CRETE AND THE PELOPONNESE

SUNDAY 01 JUNE 1997 GR CALYPSO HOTEL, AGIA ROUMELI (FOOT OF SAMARIA GORGE)

After a 25 mile ride from near Hania, climbing 4,000 ft, we left Alf by the cafe near the top entrance to the Samaria Gorge, drank a last coffee and entered the National Park at 10.50 am (3 Drachma each, one way). Plenty of rest areas with cold water springs. Very steep for first 3 miles to the little church of Ag Nikolaos, then more level in the gorge bottom but we needed to watch our footing and we often crossed the full stream on stepping stones or little wooden bridges.

Picnic lunch break 5 miles down at Samaria village (evacuated in 1962 when the gorge was made a National Park), under the trees. A 'doctor' was on duty in the warden's post there with a rescue horse. There is nothing on sale within the Park boundaries (except the entry ticket), but the water was good and free. Soon after leaving Samaria village, we saw Martin, a young man with Down's Syndrome, struggling along and falling in the stream, helped by his brother-in-law and his exhausted older father. Barry rose to this, shouldered Martin's right side and helped him over all the hurdles, wading in the streams alongside him through the narrow section (the 'Iron Gates') and beside the bridges, up to his knees in water, finding a joy and a purpose in it, as nothing else mattered except getting this man through. He had very poor eyesight, poorly co-ordinated movement and was well over the weight limit for his age.

The 'doctor' at Samaria had been unwilling to try and get him on the horse, saying he shouldn't have come. The tour reps had told his family it was a pleasant walk "OK - downhill all the way". Disgracefully uncaring all round. But Martin did it with great spirit (though without Barry's help it could have been a tragedy). We all reached the Park exit soon after 3 pm and put Martin and his dad in a van which had come to meet a German party. We then walked on another mile or so to Agia Roumeli village on the beach and at the foot of the Gorge, past 2 bars just outside the National Park boundary, doing good business in fresh orange juice and ice-creams.

Martin, his family and many others got on the 'Samaria' boat going east to Hora Sfakion at 3.45; yet more people caught the 4.15 'Sofia', west to Sougia and Paleohora (a boat we came to know well). We got a good room in Agia Roumeli for £12.50 at Hotel Kalypso, a welcome cup of tea and watched the boats leave (the third and final one was at 6 pm to Hora Sfakion). Then peace - rest, shower, book, food (pork chop and souvlaki with chips and Greek salad at nearby taverna), sleep disturbed by vivid dreams. 11 miles of rough walking and 4,000 ft of descent in 4 hours' walking time.

Breakfast of Ham and Eggs at Hotel Kalypso and set off up the gorge before 9 am. A last coffee just before the gorge entrance, wondering if we were the first (or even the only) people going up it today. Entered the National Park at 9.30 am (another £3 each) and walked in blissful solitude for over an hour, taking photographs of the classic views of the narrowest sections, empty of people (yesterday, getting Martin out, we had hardly noticed them). Saw a lone man hurrying down soon after 10 am, who must have been first through the top entrance when it opened at 6 am. Then just odd couples spread out, who'd made good time, until we began to meet the fittest of the coach trippers coming down by about 11 am. Stopped for water and brief rests, but ate nothing except a bar of chocolate until we reached the cafe at Xyloskalo (Wooden Steps, the top entrance) at 2.30 pm: 5 hours' walking time for 11 miles and a 4,000 ft climb! This is the average time for going down. The last 2 hours were the hardest, but the crowds had thinned out by then. Saw no-one else going uphill. A couple from Cologne had walked down as far as the Ag Nik church (a 2,000 ft drop) and were struggling on the return - the woman had breathing difficulties.

We were very well pleased with our times and progress, celebrated with tea, sandwiches and enormous ice-cream cornets at the cafe by the top entrance and returned to the campsite on a patient Alf.

Rest day! Margaret told the campsite reception we were back and was told there was no discount for absence, which we'll challenge. To local Marinopoulos Supermarket to restock fridge and freezer. In the evening, Margaret talked to couple from Frankfurt in exchange for a paper (Bild am Sonntag) and a glass of wine. He'd retired early (heart problems) from being a computer expert in local government and he was very interested in 'full-timing' in a Wo-mo. They knew the 'Chief Executor' of Wakefield, their twin town.

Day on Alf, to Nopigia and Paleohora. Inspected Campings Nopigia and Mithimna which are close together on coast about 5 miles east of Kissamos. Nopigia was excellent, with swimming pool and new facilities, though only pitch no 1 looked big enough for Rosie. Mithimna OK, (a Sunshine Club site), about the same price after the 20% Club discount.

The main road south to Paleohora (where Thomas of the toy aeroplanes toots his horn on every bend) twisted its way across the western edges of the White Mountains, sometimes a new broad road, sometimes narrow and rough, as ever in Crete. Camping Paleohora was a disappointment: small and scruffy, mainly for tents, and the only place for larger outfits was right on the road, with no privacy.

The friendly warden warned of a noisy disco on Friday and Saturday nights, so altogether it was not worth the difficult drive over from the north coast with Rosie. Thomas was away, selling his aeroplanes, but the mysterious French camping car was there (seen at Camping Elizabeth and Ag Marina but not spoken with). Ate sandwiches on the beach and Alfed it back to Hania.

Final Samarian Gorge feat: off at 9 am to cycle 55 miles, climbing 1200 m (4000') to Xyloskalo and back, on a very hot day. Paused for coffee in village of Lakki, before hardest climbing began, then for an excellent lunch in Omalos at Maria's Restaurant: pig and chips, with free jugs of 'snow water' and little honey pancakes with a Raki on the house to finish (it nearly finished us!) Final push across the Omalos Plateau and a coffee at the Samaria Gorge cafe, where the woman was most impressed - Where from? Hania? In one day? How long? (4 hours' riding). The return took just 2 hours, with another coffee break in Lakki.

Moving day. First into Hania to get money and mail (letter from mum and 1 of 3 packets from Alan, with a new reversing bleeper for Rosie). Also collected photos, got bread and visited Tourist Police to check position re campsite fees. After consultations with her ring binder, the tourist office, us and finally the campsite itself, the policewoman announced that we would pay only for Rosie for the night we'd been away. Victory! Not that the campsite owner was pleased and we were relieved to leave.

Filled up the LPG tank at Hania Autogas before driving west along the coast road, which became a lot quieter and emptier after Maleme (scene of the earlier German airborne landings in 1941 and the German Military Cemetery).

Camping Nopigia was welcoming: the owner and his assistant actually climbed a couple of trees and lopped off branches so we could get in, as pitch no 1 was taken by a pop-up toaster family from Bavaria. And for all they knew it might have been for just one night. And the price with hook-up was slightly less than Ag Marina without one, so we had electricity, as we're in shade (reducing the output of the solar panels) with very few TV stations (a chance to watch videos). Lovely site, properly organised pitches, sea view on an empty bay.

Camping £8.60. 25 miles.

Thunderstorm during night, electricity off for a few hours and heavy rain - the first since the end of April at Ag Galini, none at all during May. Used campsite washing machine, a brand new Italian automatic for £2.50. After lunch cycled a total of 20 miles, into Kissamos (aka Kastelli) and beyond to its harbour. It's a small sleepy town, all closed and deserted except on the seafront where we bought Greek sun protection cream, ate ice-cream and read as we waited till 4.45 pm to see the twice weekly ferryboat 'Maria' arrive from Gythion, Kithera, Neapolis and Antikithera, ready to sail again at 8 am tomorrow. It just had a simple car-deck to drive into (no upper ramps), but the angle of the ramp from boat to dock looked difficult for one such as Rosie (who, it has to be said, has a bottom that sticks out a bit at the rear). Golden Ferries have taken the line over from Miras Ferries, who paid no tax and had their 'Theseus' impounded in Pireus!

Long day on Alf, to Paleohora by the back roads and to Sougia by the even more minor roads and tracks. Picnic by Paleohora harbour, where a smart trip boat waited to take you looking for dolphins at 5 pm. There were also daily trips to Elafonissi islet and the boat ('Sofia') to Sougia/Agia Roumeli and back. Our interest was the twice weekly sailing to Gavdos, a small island 30 miles south of Crete and Europe's most southerly bit of land. The 'Sofia' leaves at 8 am on Monday and Thursday (via Sougia, Ag Roumeli, etc, or so we were told), takes 4 hrs and comes straight back. We booked returns for Monday 16 to Thursday 19 June, and a room on Gavdos for 3 nights in the Rooms Calypso, whose owner will meet the boat. Rang mum: she's just had a windfall from the Leeds BS shares and is thinking of a holiday. Good news indeed.

The roads (or tracks) to Sougia showed why it's quicker by boat, though we would have missed a few hills. Rejoined our earlier route from Hania to Ag Iriril gorge near Rodovani and followed it past Livadas to the coast at Sougia, which was just a beach, and collection of rooms and tavernas. Had a drink and read, waiting to see the 'Sofia' arrive from Ag Roumeli at 5 pm and disgorge her cargo of Samaria Gorge walkers into their waiting buses. Dismayed to find that it was just a passenger ship, with the odd bicycle being manhandled on (is that why we'd been told to buy Alf's ticket on board when going to Gavdos?) Asked the ticket seller if it would carry Alf — "No problem, 100% certain". We're not

A long ride home, pausing in Kandanos to read the German on the inscription, originally put up when the village was destroyed in retribution for the "bestial murder" of 25 German soldiers "never to be rebuilt" - thankfully they have, and they still remember.

Cycled 20 miles into Kissamos and found the only agent for the Peloponnese ferry. The fare for Neapolis (half the time) was about 3/4 of the price to Gythion and we were advised to book about 10 days ahead. Met an interesting couple in the main street: Ann, ex-head of department from an FE College in Bootle and her friend Alan. She'd taken early retirement last September, let her house out and come to Crete to work part-time teaching English, as she knew a couple doing this in Heraklion. She got a job in Ierapetra with a private secondary school, teaching 19 hours a week to small groups (about 10), following a set textbook: easy, no prep, little marking, finishing in June when exams start. She'd rented a small flat for £150 a month, earned £5 an hour to supplement her pension, and loved it. She returned home in the summer to visit family, and Alan and her daughter came out for holidays, and she was looking into buying a house here. Nice woman. Sounded like FE had got even crazier (2 of her staff sacked for not signing new contracts) and there would be no more early retirements.

Ancient Polirinia was only 4 miles from Kissamos, but it meant climbing about 1,000 ft across a ravine up to the end of a road in the village, near a Roman aqueduct, then leaving the bikes to scramble high above to the acropolis of a city founded in the 8thC BC by the post-Minoan Achaeans. Just a few walls remained, but fine views of the bay, and 2 old churches on the way up. Met a German Gruppe conquering the summit, complete with ski sticks. After a tricky, prickly short-cut descent, a very welcome omelette, bread and salad in a tiny taverna frequented by dozing old folk. Shaded from the afternoon heat, we ate and watched as the locals carried goats and drove donkeys up and down the steep village street.

Downhill all the way back to Kissamos, stopping to shop for essentials. Home in time for Margaret to read by the pool and do a few lengths: surprisingly warm and pleasant. Then watched video of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom: good stuff!

Day at campsite catching up with jobs. M worked on this word processed diary, getting June up to date, then had another swim (15 lengths) and turned leftover corned beef, tsatsiki and veg into a surprisingly successful curry (followed, untraditionally, by Xmas Pud!)

B fixed his cycle computer with soldering iron and invasive surgery, did a Gorge Walks collage, serviced Alf, cleaned Rosie and bikes, etc. Site fairly busy, with a few small tents and German Wo-mo's, plus a Dutch couple out for a few months (retired gardener).

Into Kissamos on Alf to collect photos (excellent pictures of all our gorge walks which the man said were better than the postcards) and rang Adrian at Rodley's Motors in Bradford about the handbrake cable again ('Ring again next Monday"). On to ancient Falassarna, 10 miles west through Platanos. This was the port for Polirinia, the ruins scattered over a wide area and along a rocky headland ridge. Many stretches of Cyclopean walls, even high on the promontory between the rocks, and house foundations including a curious round structure divided into quarters, underground cisterns and a quartet of lustral basins/ancient bidets? The position of the harbour could be made out, but now well above the level of the sea in the little bay as volcanic movements have tilted Crete, raising the coastline by about 26 ft (8 m) at this, the western end of the island and dropping it at the eastern end. Some kind of throne (for Poseidon) carved from the rock by the side of the lane. Very quiet, a few fly-drivers out for the nearby sandy beaches, but still B's maroon cap (Rotherley Construction mc) vanished when forgotten outside the little church while we drank our coffee.

Back to write, read, sort photos, make saucy chocolate pudding and enjoy this shady, flowery site and its pool. M finished Leonard Cottrell's 'The Bull of Minos' (still the standard historical book on sale, though now 45 years out of date and written before Malia, Zakros, Akrotiri and others were excavated) and B is reading Cohn Thubron's 'Journey into Cyprus'. Watched the 3rd of the Inspector Frost videos.

Into Kissamos again: got details on day cruises to Gramvoussa (island off northwest corner) and Balos Bay in a smart little boat 'Gramvoussa Express', 9 am to 6 pm on Wed, Sat and Sun (plus extra days according to demand) for £12.50 each. We may take this, even if it means following in the footsteps of Charles and Di on their honeymoon. (In the event, rough seas prevented it sailing on the days we planned to go.)

Then a superb circular ride on Alf, past the Ealassarna turnoff in Platanos and down the west coast to the beach at Sfinari where we had our coffee away from 3 tavernas, who'd put their sunbeds and umbrellas along the best sandy stretch. They offered 'free camping', of the backpackers' variety: space for little tents with water and WC available and beach showers. Continued on very hilly road with super views over the olive groves and tomato houses fringing the coast, then out to sea where it blended hazily with the sky. Very quiet, road being improved and retarred in places. Through the minutest villages, turning east at Amigdalokefahi, then rejoining the main road back from Paleohora at Mill, returning through the short tunnel above a gorge, where we had to wait 5 minutes for the red light to change (not that many Greek drivers kept us company).

Back for a late lunch, reading and writing and fruit cake baking, and another swim.

Back east on Alf, along the main road, good and quiet at this end, getting more and more crowded and touristed and noisy as we passed our (least) favourite camping at Ag Marina. Into Hania for bank, post (2 packets from Alan) and a new cap for Barry (bright blue with a map of Crete). Also 2 books from the excellent multilingual bookshop by the harbour: Cohn Thubron's The Hills of Adonis (Lebanon) and Mary Taylor Simeti 'On Persephone's Island' (Sicily).

Then still east through Souda to Aptera, on a plateau above Souda Bay, taking due care in view of the date. Picnic lunch by the vast Roman cisterns, hugely cool (later used for grain storage), in the town which flourished from 5thC BC until Byzantine period. Small church and associated buildings among the ruins. A keeper, but no entry fee or information except Beware of Falling Stones in the vast vaulted cisterns, left to disintegrate. Nearby was a Turkish fortress Icedin (looking like a smaller Frangokastello) on the edge of the promontory, with fine view of Souda Bay in front and mountains behind, overlooking another fort on the New Nat road, now apparently a prison. Talked to a 24-year-old from Cheshire and his French girlfriend who were on the 3rd day of their holiday and still pale and puzzled. ("Why is there nothing about this castle in our guidebook and no signs or information?") It was interesting, looking out over Souda Bay and towards the British Military Cemetery, exploring their knowledge of events of WWII - the French apparently won the war (!) with 3 million in the Resistance (and she claimed to have her Baccalaureat in history).

Back to spend time over the mail. Some disappointment: no word from R Jeynes, Alan, Comfort Insurance or the magazine to which we sent the lonion Beach report. Some joy: letters from Martin Wiltshire, Sue & Sam, Mick & Flo, Eugene & Nicole, Maria, a birthday card from Pete, postcards from Mike Allan and Stephen in Inverness, and 2 cheques from MMM. Some puzzles: cards from Anna Summerskill and change of address from Jayne. Finish with read and swim.

Off at 8 am on Alf to Paleohora (taking 1 hr 15 mins). Left him at campsite in custody of the friendly owner and walked the difficult coastal footpath to Sougia, as in the Trekking in Greece book, where it's given 5 strenuous hrs (approx 10 miles). Luckily, cloudy for the morning, getting hot by lunch-stop and running out of drink by Ancient Lissos, making the final hour down through the gorge to Sougia harbour a thirsty slog. Lissos must have the least-visited ancient remains on the island, unless people come round by boat. Helenistic (3rdC BC) and Roman: Temple of Asklipios with superb Roman mosaic floor. We were sorry that the warden (reputed to sell drinks) was not on duty; only later did we discover that the healing spring of Asklipios was still running and was drinkable! We only saw 2 other couples walking our way (German and French).

Arrived Sougia by 3.45 pm and staggered into the minimarket for water and orange juice (you get much more for £2 that way than in a cafe). Watched the 'Sofia' coming down the coast from Ag Roumeli again, arriving about 5 pm, with its cargo of gorge-walkers. Talked to a Hamburger on board, whose hired scrambler motorbike had sailed with him from Hora Sfakion, no problem, roped to the rails. Arrived back at Paleohora at 6 pm, then 30 mins walk along beach back to Alf at campsite. Paused to photograph an enormous pink Pelican sitting preening itself on a sunbed! Seemed very tame, thankfully, with enormous fully webbed feet and strange beak. identifed as a White Pelican (which are sometimes pink!) Back on Alf into Paleohora to check Monday's boat to Gavdos: agent says 8 am, captain 7.30 am! Better make it 7 am. Late back at Nopigia, to find a Dutch caravanner's tow van parked right in front of us. A very weary chicken casserole and welcome bed.

Cycled to Kissamos to collect photos and book ferry to Neapolis (Peloponnese). Should have realised nothing is that simple here. She took a reservation' (wrote our name on a piece of scrap paper) for the ferry leaving at 8 am on Sunday 29 June (twice weekly, the other being 3 pm Thursday), but we paid no money and were told to check and buy our ticket the day before, at the harbour or the agents (the only one in town). Left feeling very unconvinced that we were booked or reserved on any ferry.

Some hassle with Dutchman about the nearness of his van. Eventually it was moved, but with ill—will (his aggression and the number of beer bottles outside his caravan gave aptness to the expression 'Dutch Courage'). Site is getting busier and noisier now, we'll probably move on our return from Gavdos next Thursday, DV. Still enjoying the washing machine and swimming pool, though.

Up before 5 am, still dark but very warm. Left 5.40 am for Paleohora, getting campsite owner out in pyjamas to unpadlock gate. Dawn came as we crossed the 3,500 ft watershed of the island, 30 miles and 1 hour 10 mins later we were at the quayside, 'Sofia' was just loading, moored alongside the Elafonisa trip-boat. Had time for a very welcome cup of coffee on the quay and lifted Alf aboard for a £7.50 backhander and sailed at 7.45 am (turning back for 2 who just arrived by taxi, and leaving behind those who came for 8 am, as we'd all been told). Busy and noisy with a bus trip of older Greeks (public holiday today for Whit Monday). Talked to a single woman of about 60 from the other end of Europe - the top of Norway, near Kirkenes who was seeking a travelling companion, but we couldn't interest her in a 60-year-old drunk Dutch drop-out with peroxide curls and bare feet!

There was also a trio of young women with ear and nose rings and tattoos going to join their men on Gavdos's St John's Beach. Talked to the one from Antwerp, speaking excellent English after a year in Essex. The others were Greeks she'd met at a rave in Athens. They sleep out under the trees, make fires to cook, and generally get stoned, presumably. She tried to make it sound idyllic, nothing to do for a couple of weeks before starting a job with kids in a Belgian hospital, but admitted that last time on Gavdos (her 3rd visit) a Gavdian shepherd had put poison in the well they used. The boat went straight to Gavdos (not along the coast to Hora Sfakion as we'd believed): 30 miles in 3 hours. Coffee on sale, but no food on the boat (except for our own pre-frozen sandwiches and cake). Saw dolphins jumping in the distance, announced by the captain in Greek.

At Gavdos's tiny port of Karave (1 taverna with 4 rooms) we were met by Nikos Tsirindanis, owner of the Calypso Rooms, in a battered blue Nissan pickup with a board permanently attached declaring 'To Calypso Rooms'. The day-trippers were met by the island's only bus (retired from Rethimnon) and the beach-bums were met by a tractor and trailer with a board saying 'Sarakiniko Beach, Free Camping, Rooms with Shower, Taverna'. Nikos led us 400 yards up the hill on a smart blacktopped road to a row of 4 very simple rooms and his one-room house, overlooking the harbour. Beyond his rooms, the road became a dirt track to the other 4 of the island's tiny settlements.

We shared the £12.50 room with a gekko and several map-lice slowly eating away the top corners of the framed map of the island! A single dim lightbulb, 2 beds, a little table and wardrobe completed the spartan decor, with no electric socket or bathroom light, rough concrete floor, a picture of 3 flowers, a new wooden door and curtain pole, tatty brown curtain and metal framed window/shutter. Had to ask for towel and soap but were given a coffee in his living room. A former seaman, from Hora Sfakion, he told us there are about 40 people on the island (a triangle, 3 miles base, 6 miles height) through the winter, to tend the animals and olives, joined by their families in the summer. The school closed 5 years ago so children stay with relatives in Crete in term-time, but there is a doctor (later we discovered there wasn't) and a priest (Emm Bikogiannakis who wrote the book on Gavdos we bought).

On to Sarakiniko beach which has a few shanty-type tavernas but only 2 appeared open, one busy with the day trippers and one unfriendly. No shops, just a few items on sale in the taverna (biscuits, crisps, rusks, pre-packed croissants we used for breakfasts, drinks but NO BREAD). All very basic - Nikos has chickens and a goat and a farm of 500 olive trees, like a Mediterranean Romania, subsistence under the sun, subsidised by the EU? No sign of money. Mistake to bring no bread, except our packed lunch, having assumed ther'd be a baker for the tavernas. They order it to come on the boat from Paleohora! Luckily we did have a tin of sardines and luncheon meat and our faithful brewing-up kit (camping gas stove, mugs, plates, kfs, coffee, teabags, etc). Directed to a white house just before Kastri where a one-eyed man bakes bread in winter but he had none and ranted and raved at nothing and no-one as M retreated fast. Finally got half a loaf from Nikos with other gifts: an orange, a tomato and a bottle of water. He didn't trust the well-water for drinking, claiming it was spoilt by tourists pissing outside (what about the goats, which far outnumber the people?) We felt strangely abandoned as we sadly watched the Sofia sail at 2 pm, taking a gang of small-tenters from Korfos Beach and the bus trippers and our Norwegian friend. After resting and reading, we ate excellent pork, chips and salad at the Karave taverna, smuggling the bread out for breakfast. Fellow diners were 2 mid-aged Englishwomen (who might have been happier on Lesbos) and, as we were leaving, the sun-tanned pair from Surrey for whom the boat had turned back this morning, who we got to know better later. Slept well with no mosquitoes - thanks to the gekko, or lack of surface water on the island.

To Europe's most southerly point at Cape Tripiti: not an easy journey! On Alf on steep dirt roads initially through the 'capital' Kastri, consisting of a war memorial, a tiny council office/post office/doctor's, and a police station - all firmly closed - and a cottage or two. (The first time we rode through Kastri, which is not where it is marked on the lice-eaten map, we didn't notice it and had to turn round, looking for it again). Then south to Vatsiana, the southernmost hamlet where the dirt road ends, 2 hours' hard walk from the Cape. At Vatsiana was a small church and graveyard, both still in use (latest grave Feb 96, a man of 75, with his photo). Only recent graves (1950's onwards) had names and dates, often with photos: a lovely woman of 35, ancient grannies, a couple of children's graves just marked with pebbles. Nearby a small museum of Gavdos (locked), a cottage with a noisy dog and a black granny, an old couple with 2 donkeys and a younger man we were to meet later. A last brew-up before setting out at 11.45 am on a somewhat optimistic expedition, as we'd no boots or rucksack, it was very hot and we could carry only 1½ litres of water.

The path was undefined/non-existent, taking us past 2 abandoned villages and all the back-breaking terracing of attempts to survive on this stony barren earth. Delighted to finally see the small chot (dried-up salt lake) behind the beach at Kamareles, where we cooled ourselves down in the sea before climbing up and scrambling along to the final southerly tip of Europe at Tripiti above the 3 sea arches, past a small working light by a rusted collapsed larger one. There was nothing there to declare that we were at the end of Europe except the view of the sea stretching to Libya (250 miles) and Egypt (300 miles), and our compass bearing. Still not finding the path for our return, we tried to follow the clifftop north, but it was high, steep and riven with deep gullies: exhausting work in the heat with rationed water.

But someone was looking after us: as we reached the well at the deserted village half way back, suffering heat and thirst exhaustion, there was a shepherd, the man from Vatsiana, drawing water with a home-made bucket and rope for his goats. He urged us to drink and saved us further chances of heat stroke. The water was good and cold and fresh, so we filled our bottle and ourselves and he was well pleased with a packet of Benson and Hedges in return (kept for just such a day and that day had come). He saw us to the beginning of something of a path back to Vatsiana and, after 5 hours, we were at last reunited with Alf and his supply of solar-heated home-made lemon squash. Some walk! Ate at the Karave taverna again, trying the delicious lamb stew for a change, with only the 2 Englishwomen in attendance, who barely spoke unless spoken to, which they weren't except to be impressed by our walk. (Bill and Heather from Surrey went to Sarakiniko taverna, but the food was poor.)

Exploring rest of island on A-f day. First along track signposted 'Korfos Beach, Taverna' where we met Bill and Heather walking wearily in flip—flops. Luckily for them a truck came by and picked them up and we met at the taverna further along, well above the beach. A bigger ship 'Samaria' had arrived and trucks of food, canned drink, etc disembarked to supply the various tavernas for the summer tourists who had not yet come. This taverna was, however, still closed, so we sat on its terrace and made coffee for the 4 of us. Bill is a freelance journalist, working from their tiny cottage near Woking on various projects linked with homelessness (PR for Shelter) and refugees in Europe (Rowntree Foundation funded) and environmental issues (had a share in a journal which their daughter, Sophie, now edits. Sophie's husband, Alexis, a photographer, will work with Bill on his European Anti-Racism project; all London-connections-money). Heather had been a librarian and worked in a bookshop, but gave up work to do a degree in Eng Lit and History of Art, which she never finished. They were not as shallow as they first appeared, had 3 children and 2 grandchildren, and some social conscience which didn't prevent them enjoying the good life and collecting Greek islands for their hols! interesting name-dropping stories of politicians, royalty, etc from Bill who had met them all in his Fleet Street days (He'd started out as a teen, working for 'Jacky', going to America with the Beatles).

Left them to negotiate a lift back with the lorry and returned to Sarakiniko beach to eat our packed lunch, where we met them again, having theirs at a taverna. M joined them for a swim and discovered the delight of shallow, warm sea with a sandy bottom (the sea, not M). View across to Crete, with White Mountains still snow-flecked.

Then to see the 5th and last hamlet on the island, through Kastri then right to Ampelos, past the ruin of last century's lighthouse on the highest point, at 1250 ft, from where we could see the entire coast of the island. The lighthouse used to be visible from 40 miles away, run on petrol, bombed by the Germans after the island had surrendered in 1941. Ampelos seemed to consist of one cottage with the usual goats, donkey, granny, outside baking oven and (most incongruously) a new bank of solar-powered photo-voltaic cells, as supplied throughout the island to give 24 volts for lighting, etc. (The 'Electric Sun Village' as the Priest called them). Joined Heather and Bill for a leisurely evening meal and talk at Karave taverna, where they are staying. Their room is the same price as ours, but better equipped (next time ...) Bill had fish, £7.50 for the one he chose from the freezer, so we kept to pork. She was a very good cook and did all the work with a smile while her husband messed about with hosepipes and disappeared on his Yamaha Town Mate (where to?) Some time since we were up past midnight in good conversation.

Sailing day - told 1 pm, Bill walked up after breakfast to tell us he'd heard the 'Sofia' coming straight from Paleohora arriving about 11 am. That much was true, but it finally sailed at 3 pm! We returned to Sarakiniko for a last walk along the beach towards Fokospilio, but turned back quickly on meeting a naked skinhead (clearly male) in the sea with a loud dog which ran in our direction. Back to the harbour, a last coffee (we thought), then hours of waiting! Bill and Heather let us use their room and patio to make our lunch while they dined at the taverna, than M joined them for another swim on the adjacent beach. Very decadent. Lovely voyage back, sea breeze most welcome, boat quiet, arrived about 6 pm. Coffee in Paleohora with Heather while Bill found them a room, then north over the mountains to Camping Nopigia and Rosie's luxury. An amazing contrast between Crete and Gavdos - suddenly Crete feels luxurious: roads, traffic, shops, people.

Quiet day at campsite. Into Kissamos to shop and restock fridge and freezer. Small dhobi in our Easiwash. Found a good waterbottle left by a cycle-camper. Swam in pool. Barry cleaned and serviced Alf and read 'The Ghost Road', Booker prizewinning novel given by Bill. No more than a 2-day read, sadly.

Rest day. Reading, swimming, thinking. German caravanners got tickets for tomorrow's ferry to Gythion so it's still running (or is it?)

Alf took us out along the westernmost cape of Crete towards Balos Bay and Gramvoussa island, though the track ended just before reaching them. Superb views of Kissamos Bay, smooth blue sea meeting the land in a shimmering smudge of light. A tiny church among the pink oleanders, goats blocking the track to eat their fodder, the odd fly-driver in search of a beach. Near Kaliviani was the rusting hulk of a coastal freighter, 'Bremen' just discernible on the stern. Seawater is good for cooling the feet while enjoying a flask of coffee.

Back to make tsatsiki for a Greek lunch, then transformed a tin of Noy Noy (pronounced Noo Noo, Greek for Moo Moo!) condensed milk into a tub of chocolate ice-cream and a plate of millionaire's shortbread. (Cheap to make, honestly! Camping shop charging £5 for their 2 litre ice-creams.) Another swim for M (36 lengths, with 2 on back, and practised jumping from diving board: a big improvement of stamina). Meanwhile Barry emptied 13 large red buckets of assorted liquids from Rosie's nethermost regions.

After dinner rang Alan from Kissamos (nearest cardphone) to get Comfort Insurance renewal cost. Mum is well apart from straining her shoulder helping Mrs Hackett up from falling off her garden stool, Uncle Harold still has a tumour behind his ear though the hospital say it's benign (reminded of one of Bill's name-dropping jokes: Evelyn Waugh, hearing that Randolph Churchill's tumour was benign, said that it was clever of the doctors to find the only bit of him that was). The UK weather is cold and wet - do we miss it? Watched Jane Eyre video in bed, the end of a perfect day.

Wrote to Comfort Insurance and MCM magazine to chase lonion report. Rest of morning getting this log up to date. Swim, then to Paleohora for Bill's 54th birthday celebrations. First time M had worn a skirt since leaving HTC.

Drinks outside their room (G&T for Bill, orange juice for the rest). A present for M: small bottle of Worth perfume from the plane. Bill really chuffed with his card and bit of Berlin Wall, and pick of B's selected used paperbacks, including 2 by Graham Greene. Less interested in 4-Winds brochure which he obviously considered in poor taste compared with their 15th century cottage on Woking Common (where Heather dare not walk alone, even with the dog).

On to their choice of taverna with 2 live musicians by the sea. Usual food but very well done: salad, chicken souviaki, yogurt with fruit and honey, jugs of water and wine, free eclairs and rakis. Bill put away all 8 rakis, much of the wine and an ouzo instead of coffee. He does have a problem, and gout, but we liked him a lot. Nice sense of humour, good raconteur, some social conscience. Heather more refined than her Dusty Springfield look-alike appearance might lead one to expect:

warm and well read. Left after midnight for a moonlit ride back on Alf through the cool night air, with a genuine invitation to visit them at Whittles Farm. They'll be there tomorrow night, Bill and dog back boosting the takings at the village pub. Strange encounters. His surname should be Bryson.

To Kissamos for food shopping, phone and post. Sent cheque to Comfort Insurance and coupon asking Midland Cards to refund annual fee on Profile Points. M rang Peter Underwood, who'll contact R Jeynes (ring again in a week). B rang Rodleys re handbrake cable and finally gave up on them and rang Clive at Gold (ring again in 2 days). Also confirmed there's still no direct ferry to Turkey or Italy from Crete. Bank, petrol and oil for Alf.

Afternoon spent on log, reading, swimming. B wrote R Jeynes, c c Underwood.

M wrote note to mum, enclosing 2 letters for her to post (request for Midland's investment brochure and copy of PEPS report) and worked on diary, while B to post in Kissamos with that plus R Jeynes correspondence. After lunch went up Rodopos Peninsula on Alf in a strong wind. Past the Gonia Moni (Venetian, 1618), up to a Monument with super view across Hania Bay to Maleme, then down to a little beach for coffee where the Lovely Cookies blew into the waves! Back via tiny villages of Rodopos, Aspra Nera and Ravdouha. A footpath from there to Nopigia, but didn't look navigable on Alf. Back home, a large group of German scooterriders took over the space opposite and are here for a week. Time to move on. Swim and end of Jane Eyre.

Explored the hills inland of Nopigia on Alf, following a gorge south from Malathiros, hoping the land wouldn't slide further today. Tiny villages waiting for their roads to be surfaced. By the time that happens no-one will be left to need them. Into Kissamos to watch the Maria arrive from Gythion - it didn't! We learnt there was a 'problem' (sounds familiar) but it would definitely come on Sunday. In the travel agent's shop, 2 irate Italians were buying tickets for the ferry from Hania to Pireus, while 2 German outfits returned to our camping: they'd been told the problem was the anchor. We were assured that we have a reservation for Sunday's boat, so we'll buy a ticket when it materialises.

Back at Nopigia, met 2 couples from Sheffield in the swimming pool: Dave and Caroline who now live in the nearby village of Potamida in a converted olive mill running special interest holidays (walking, yoga, painting, etc) and their friends, Neil and Julia, originally from Montreal, here on holiday.

Day out, full of variety. First down the west coast, through Platanos and Sfinari, with a side trip up to the minute village of Melissia. From Vathi the route to the Hrissoskalitissas Moni is now a good road, becoming a rough track to Elafonisi. The Moni (a convent) seemed deserted, apart from a few tourists, as we clambered around its promontory in our indecent attire (no one to hand out dresses to cover our knees). Then we saw an aged nun doing her crochet work in the chapel and a bent monk, with long white beard and dark blue robe, hobble through the courtyard. Sitting in the car park eating our lunch, we saw him go to his battered pick-up truck and strip off, down to vest, shorts and sandals, then drive away. Very strange.

Past the Moni, the countryside became even more barren, dry and dusty until we bumped round a bend and saw the Oasis of Elafonisi - a long beach with umbrellas and snack bars, disorganised car parking with the odd coach and camper, and hundreds of people, in the middle of nowhere. The attraction is the shallow sea and sandy island you can wade across to, if you don't mind getting your shorts wet (which we didn't). The island forbids umbrellas and sunbeds to protect the environment!

Returned via Mill and then the familiar route past Ag Sofia's cave and the tunnel. Stopped to see the cave, 15 mins climb up above the road and the gorge. Another surprise: a huge cavern with stalactites, a sacred place since Neolithic times, now with a small Orthodox chapel which is a place of Easter pilgrimage. Home in time to read and swim after a last day which summarises all that is special in Crete.

Paid the campsite, with no hassle about the fee for the 3 days in Gavdos, costing just £2.50 a day for Rosie. Did the dhobi, diary and cleaning. A last swim then a final pot of tea, interrupted by the arrival of the dreaded Caroline who came inside to say goodbye (but not to see Rosie, she was too full of herself).

Drove to Kissamos Harbour by 6 pm but found no ferryboat (due in from Gythion at 4.45 pm). Rang the ticket office and told 'No problem, it's arriving late at midnight'. Sounds like no problem Greek-style. Strolled round watching the fishing boats and freighters, had supper, went to sleep convinced the FB Maria would never appear. 8 miles. Free night.

Woken at 5 am by a thoughtless British camper coming alongside with banging of doors, and an Italian the other side remarkably quiet. Amazed to see the Golden Ferries 'Maria' docked, aglow with lights, just 12 hours late!

Got tickets as soon as the office opened at 7 am, ready for departure at 8 am. Cost 3,978 dr each, plus 28,809 for Rosie, to Neapolis: total £91.91, saving about £30 compared with going on to Gythion. Loading was the usual chaos, with a steep ramp from the narrow quay, needing a lot of mats and a lot of patience to get Rosie reversed into position. Took some time to get the anchor up! A small boat, just one inside cafeteria with snacks - we found good seats on deck but out of the wind which rose steadily as we sailed.

First stop after about 2 hrs at Antikithera, a small island with a tiny harbour, reminiscent of Gavdos. The only houses seemed clustered round the jetty. Very few people got on after a lot of manoeuvring to back onto the jetty and off it. Anchor reluctant to come up. Then on another 2 hrs or so to Kithera. The wind getting stronger from the east made docking, end on to the little jetty, difficult and there still seemed to be some more difficulty with the anchor. The schedule listed Neapolis, and then Kithera, but we left it to the captain and crew, who said nothing. By the time we approached Neapolis at 3 pm the wind was very strong indeed and they were having even more trouble with the anchor. The boat circled just off the jetty wall for at least 30 mins, with most of the passengers clustered below among the lorry and motorhome drivers, standing on the half-lowered ramp and watching the sea going up and down - an anxious time was had by all. As usual, no-one took charge of information or safety procedures. Finally disembarked with great relief at about 3.30 pm, pleased we were not continuing to Gythion (via Kithera again?)

Stopped on the seafront at Neapolis to have a late lunch and watch the Maria sail off into the sunset. The Peloponnese looked good — at once more prosperous, with better roads and houses, but very much less visited and touristed than Crete, with just a humble hotel and a few Greeks paddling in the sea.

Turning into a decrepit Shell station, an interesting linguistic discussion paralleled our attempt to fill up with 36 gallons of water. The pump man did not recognise our request for 'Nero' although we pronounced it with every combination of accents and vowel sounds. As we turned away, to drive on, he suddenly brightened up and said 'Visa?' After some more non-verbals, he insisted it must be 'aqua' we wanted since we were foreigners and that was a foreign word he knew, agreeing eventually that it was 'Italia' although we weren't. 'Nero', he said, was for 'Grekos'. We fought that to a draw and got the 'Water'. We also bought some 'Diesel' with less difficulty. Continued towards Monemvassia for a good night in a quiet layby, shared by a row of beehives, a few miles before the town. 36 hot miles. Free night.

90 degrees by 9 am! Drove to Sparta on narrow winding roads through the long thin villages of the rural Peloponnese. Very hot now the wind has died, reaching 100 degrees in the cab but Rosie is running very well and keeping to the bottom end of the 0 in NORMAL on the water temperature gauge, except on the longest hills. Pete remembered us at the Sparta campsite (this was our fourth visit) and we settled in his empty field in our favourite corner (in a corner of some foreign field).

54 miles. Camping £8.