Crete, Day 1

Wow.

Wow!

WOW!  I had a phenomenal trip to Crete.   

I had been blindly searching for the bus station my first morning; I wheeled my suitcase (which is subsequently losing steam…Parents, I’ll get us a new one) all over Heraklion's cobblestone streets.  Each set of broken English directions led me a bit closer, but was never spot on.  Finally I found the station and figured out which bus (there were probably 50) was mine.  The ride to Chania (pronounced Hanya) was along the northern coast, so the view was energizing.  Olive trees grow EVERYWHERE!  From a higher vantage point the trees look like balls, so the hills appeared to have had corn-rowed afros.  Three hours on the bus and a very brief taxi ride later (the woman driver initially said it would cost 45 dollars, and really meant 4.50- we had a nice chuckle) our hotel in Chania was adorned with huge Backroads signs.  They were a lovely signal that I had finally reached the correct place.

Opening Skit

After settling into my room it was time for the Backroads Staff Ride kickoff meeting.  We all funneled into an amphitheater across the street (one could imagine early Olympics going on there) and found stuffed grape leaves and beer galore awaiting us.  All the Staff Ride participants settled onto the stone bleachers, and our amazing Backroads Leaders for the trip put on a skit explaining the history of Crete.  A minotaur ravaged the stage, a hurricane from a water bottle wiped out all the Minoans, the Italians took over in a wine stupor and a crumpled old Greek woman stormed around with a cane and junk in her teeth (presumably olives).  All of this was narrated by an actual Greek god, Devin; our Leader with natural bleach-blond hair and big, bulky muscles.  It was a good sign for things to come; the Leaders did an excellent job organizing and entertaining all week long.

View from our restaurant back toward the hotel

Dinner that night was a short stroll away from the hotel along the beach.  We were greeted with raki ("rocky") shots, a very bitter Greek liquor which literally met us around every corner the entire trip.  It reminded me of Japanese sake with the burn of Bacardi 151; not something to be savored.  A better version of it mixed with honey and cinnamon (Rakiomello) was introduced later in the week, but it still wouldn’t be my first choice drink.

A buffet dinner was served: steamed vegetables, pork, Greek salad and stuffed bell peppers.  Maybe the raki was a calculated aperitif, because the main courses tasted delicious all week.  The wine was flowing faster than the water, shouts of yamas (Greek for 'cheers') abound, and shortly after our innocent friend Kara was organizing her first ever skinny-dipping expedition.  A small group of us found our way to a dark spot on the beach and sneakily dipped into the ocean.  There was a huge rock ~100 yards offshore which we had been admiring from dinner because the restaurant had a spotlight on it.  Soon the boys in our group were heading that direction, and the girls didn’t take long to follow.  The water felt wonderful, but the rock did not; it was like climbing onto a pile of daggers.  We each settled into as flat a nook as we could find and looked toward shore.  When we had departed most people were inside dancing, but word traveled fast and a huge group of Backroads friends were lining the shore to watch.  One by one, we could see more swimmers coming toward us in the water until it became a flock of naked Backroads employees (bosses included).  The image of naked people swimming toward us from every direction on the beach will be burned into my memory forever.  Every time I think of it I laugh. People on the beach said we were far enough away that we were only naked silhouettes, sirens calling to shore.  We really embraced the idea of Greek gods and goddesses!

View from the restaurant; the rock was just barely off to the right.

Someone shouted that the police were on their way, so we scrambled down (not without battle wounds) and back to shore.  The police never showed, so we continued our night dancing in the bar attached to the restaurant (fully clothed this time).