Beneath the Matala Moon and Hip Hania… our weekend exploring Crete

Beneath the Matala Moon and Hip Hania… our weekend exploring Crete

Red Beach... Matala

View of the caves and beach at Matala

Peter picked up our rental car after lunch on Friday –it was a Nissan Micro and “Micro” was an understatement! Even so, it cost over $75 to fill the tank so, while the car rental seemed inexpensive, with the cost of gas at about $9 a gallon, it was a lot for two days. Peter loved driving (too fast!) on the winding mountain roads and we both appreciated the freedom our wheels gave us. That afternoon, we headed to the southern half of the Island in search of warmer sun and nicer beaches. Our destination was Matala, a beach town about 75 miles south of Herkalion on the Libyan Sea (as close as I would want to get to North Africa at the moment). Matala was a hippie getaway in seventies, immortalized in Joni Mitchell’s song Carey:

The wind is in from Africa
Last night I couldn't sleep
Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here Carey
But it's really not my home
My fingernails are filthy, I got beach tar on my feet
And I miss my clean white linen and my fancy French cologne

Oh Carey get out your cane
And I'll put on some silver
Oh you're a mean old Daddy, but I like you fine

Come on down to the Mermaid Cafe and I will buy you a bottle of wine
And we'll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down

Let's have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Let's have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town…

Maybe I'll go to Amsterdam
Or maybe I'll go to Rome
And rent me a grand piano and put some flowers 'round my room
But let's not talk about fare-thee-welIs now
The night is a starry dome.
And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll
Beneath the Matala Moon…

To hear Joni sing this song and give some background on Matala go to:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jmwxGYA1IIA

The town still has some vestiges of its hippie days and I can see how the caves might be a hangout for some…although it would creep me out to sleep in what were once tombs during roman times. The beach was nice and the water a bit warmer than on the north side of the Island. The best feature was a hike up the hill behind town towards Red Beach with gorgeous views of the sea and the rocky shoreline.

Hania Harbor and the road to Hania (looking east)

The next morning we headed towards Hania (or Chania, but really neither of these in Greek) a picturesque harbor town built by the Venetians. We first stopped in Rhythmno, a university town, on the way west and walked that Venetian harbor, which was quite pleasant in spite of the rain. Our arrival into Hania coincided with Market and we got caught up in an endless loop of traffic trying to make our way into the old town. After about 45 minutes of circling and trying to read the map and the street signs, we found a place to park a few blocks away from the old town (the streets were too narrow for cars-- even micros!) and walked to the Doge Hotel, a curious blend of Italian and Greek that seemed to be under construction. Our room looked like it had once been a store, complete with displays and a stage area, but with a modern bathroom and a very comfortable bed. That evening we had our wonderful meal at Tamam described in my previous post about Greek food.

Hania old town and the stormy sea

Sunday morning was bright and sunny after a big storm the night before. After a wonderful Italian breakfast, we headed back towards Heraklion with a detour inland towards Mt. Psiloritis, the largest mountain on Crete. It was great fun to take the small country roads that climb up the side of the mountain and drive through all the tiny towns along the way. As I noted before, agriculture is Crete’s mainstay and every tillable portion of land is well tended. We stopped at a stream about two thirds of the way up the mountain and walked along it a ways to explore the flora and fauna, including some incredibly loud frogs. While the scenery was beautiful, it was disconcerting to discover trash pretty much everywhere… something we had noted before. Ubiquitous plastic bottles and bags that will never degrade…aughh!

The other interesting thing we noted were quite a few high-end Land Rovers and other expensive vehicles in what seemed like poor villages… we discovered later that there is healthy drug harvesting and trafficking in the hinterlands and it is best not to explore too far away from the main roads.

We made it as far up as roads go and tried to visit the caves but they closed at 2 p.m. so we had a picnic of our leftovers from Taman on the side of the road overlooking the expansive valley towards the sea and then headed back to Hotel Handakas, ready to start our next week at St. Spiros on Monday.

The baby goat is finished… Greek culinary adventures

The baby goat is finished… Greek culinary adventures.

Food in Greece is a mixed bag. We had some wonderful meals of the usual Greek fare: spanikopita (spinach pie), fresh grilled fish and endless Greek salads and gyros. Most of the meals at the Handakas hotel were very good and satisfying; however, the breakfasts quickly became monotonous as they consisted of white bread, boiled eggs, yogurt, corn flakes and undrinkable coffee. Peter had wisely brought our REI thermos mugs with a built-in coffee filter, which we would fill with coffee and then ask for “nero zestra”, hot water, to make our own coffee each morning. I am willing to do anything in the name of global peace and understanding but I must have a decent cup of coffee in the morning…and that’s NOT Nescafe.

Our breakfast at Hotel Doge...wonderful coffee there!

Coffee is puzzle: everyone in Greece drinks Nescafe, either “freddo”—cold— and whipped in a blender or hot with milk…and it’s not cheap…about 3 euros (close to $5) at coffee shops. I am usually adverse to frequenting American franchises while abroad but the Starbucks in Athens and in Chania were a welcome respite…and the baristas were so happy and friendly at each one. Maybe because they had work and they had finally discovered that good, brewed coffee makes life so much better. Tea doesn’t fare much better and all you can really find in the stores are Lipton tea bags.

Although there are vineyards everywhere the eye can see on Crete and around Athens, I never found an exceptional bottle of Greek wine. The closest was their version of a cabernet sauvignon, which we could read on the bottle because they don’t translate it into Greek. For the most part, the wine is sweet –even if it says dry – thin, and really very uninteresting. I even saw a waiter at a restaurant in Athens add water to our carafe of wine before bringing it to us. That didn’t stop us from drinking it, however, or from imbibing in Raki, the traditional Cretan liquor made of the wine stems. Some of it was really quite good –especially at the convent next to St. Spiros, where the nuns graciously serve it to you with a welcoming smile.

Which brings me to bread, another important staple of the good life. Most of the bread we had in Crete was white or seminola flour with a soft crust –again not very interesting. But that could be because I had just come from Italy where the bread (along with the wine and the coffee) was wonderful.

Our best meal of the trip was at a hole in the wall taverna called Tamam, in the old town of Chania, which was just around the corner from our hotel there. We cooled our heals in our room until 9 p.m. which is still early but a respectable time to head out for dinner. We wandered the harbor and ignored the restaurant hawkers along the waterfront and headed into the rabbit warren of streets to find a restaurant that had a lot of people in it. When we came across Tamam and saw people lining up outside, we knew we found our place… and we weren’t disappointed.

The pony-tailed server sat us down at a cozy table and announced: “the baby goat is finished but we have everything else on the menu tonight”. When we asked what is good, he responded: “Everything! This is Tamam!” as if we needed any other proof. I had a wonderful grilled chicken kabob and Peter had a cheese and meat pie that was so good and rich that we saved some for our picnic lunch the next day. And we had a superb carafe of house wine (cab) for only 5 euros. The place was packed with locals and a smattering of tourists who were all happily enjoying their meals, which included complimentary raki and cake for dessert! Who could ask for anything more??

Special Olympics at Agios Spiros

Monday March 28 2011

Special Olympics at Agios Spiros and other fun tasks

Our team assembled after breakfast early Monday morning and climbed into our bus for our trip up into the mountains to Agios or St. Spiros (agios is Greek for saint). Our bus driver, Nikos, skillfully maneuvered the lumbering coach up the winding, switchbacked road and squeezed it though the village of Krousounas, which is the closest town to the center. This would be our route for the next two weeks and I never tired of the mosaic of vineyards, orchards and lush farm fields with the rocky mountain peaks in the distance. The colors changed gradually from browns and greys to brilliant greens and yellows as spring took hold during our time there.

St. Spiros and view behind the center

The center is above the site of a former Monastery, now a convent, and was built 30 years ago by a Greek Orthodox priest to provide a place for mentally disabled people to get away from the noise and congestion of the city. His daughter is the current director and she greeted us at the door and gave us some background on their program. Our job would be to help the participants in making religious icons to sell in their gift shop and to get them to exercise through somewhat organized games. A graduate student (who was the heartthrob of many of the woman there as he could have been out of central casting for the role of “greek Adonis”) has been working with St. Spiros on his thesis project and comes up several times a week to direct the physical activity of the students and then monitor their progress.


Dapper George and Katerina... let the games begin

Nikos and his icon boards

George, Aphrodite and Yannis "working out"

We divided up into two groups and met our new friends while we worked with them on their projects. Here are just of few of the characters at St. Spiros: Dapper George, who likes to wear suits and read the paper; Katerina, who loves to sing and has a really good sense of rhythm; Aphrodite, who is a superb artist and unfailingly polite and generous; Yannis, a sweet young man who spent time in Canada and can carry on a limited conversation in English; Savros who loves to play basketball; and Nikos, who is very intent on his work (sanding the blocks of wood for the icons) and who doesn’t like anyone disturbing his production line. Having a brother with Down’s syndrome, I had no problem relating to our friends; it was like a whole bunch of “Ken’s” …only they all spoke Greek, which is not unlike Ken’s usual banter.

The graduate student "gym teacher"

Each volunteer selected a day during the two weeks to write for the team journals. I am including my journal and Peter’s, as they are both about our time at St. Spiros:

Global Volunteers Journal Entries

Monday April 4, 2011

by Laura Merriam

Service -- Fun -- Growth --Immersion

That was our discussion after dinner last night. After the first day of the second week at St. Spiros and we all agreed that we are scoring on all four team goals.

We arrived this morning to see all the smiling faces waiting for us. Peter got a bear hug from Mickael who then did a jump shot with anticipation of playing ball later. We set to work at our task of producing authentic antiquated religious icons while our Greek chorus watched and cheered us on. Having finished our quota for the day, we then could go and play, which our friends at St Spiros know how to do quite well.

A quick a game of pick up basketball ensued and Savros, who has really has perked up since last week, led the charge. Katerina and George joined in and Mickael recruited others while Peter managed turns at the basket. I ventured into the other icon craft room and Yannis looked at me with his soulful brown eyes and said in his Canadian English: "oh yes... I love to play ball". He jumped up and joined the crowd, which had increased to several groups playing various forms of ball with hoops and gym equipment in surprisingly organized fashion.

Besides getting our charges to move, many of our volunteers have been busy on various art projects which has resulted in a beautiful collage of drawings and paintings on what had been a drab blank wall. Peter has been taking portraits of each of the participants and we hope to have something put together before we leave. -- something we can give these beautiful people who have given us so much.

The serene drive through the valley and up into the mountains each morning to spend a few precious hours each day with our friends is just the icing on the cake (and we get way too much of that!). It has all been so enriching that I can't believe that anyone would consider this work.

Tuesday, April 5th, 2011

by Peter Armstrong

“It was once said that the moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; and those who are in the shadows of life, the sick, the needy and the handicapped.”

Hubert H. Humphrey

Traditionally, Global Volunteers has served the citizens of Crete in the dawn of their lives; helping to build an educational foundation that allows the children of Gazi a chance to become prosperous, involved and engaged members of a world wide society.

We can’t deny that Global volunteers draws from those of us who have “lost a step” or have more salt than pepper in our hair, a significant number of participants. We offer to share our life experiences in exchange for the benefit of unconditionally helping and contributing. Try as we might, we always come home having received more than we’ve given.

The Greek government seems to be in the background , while the Greek society and culture takes care of those in the twilight. Charlotte has been kind enough to lend us all an insight into the health care system, showing us a level of compassion and care for those of in need that many of us have sadly come to no longer expect from our own medical facilities in the United States.

During this fortnight we have been most privileged to see first hand at St. Spiro’s, how families, a church, dedicated teachers and a community take care of those of their own who are often kept in the shadows.

We’ve done our best, and although it seems small in the scope of the whole, but we hope it’s significant. Each day we lend a hand and hold a hand. We pitch in with our hearts and hands, our legs and our backs, and sometimes our brains. Our labors are to supplement and support-- we’re never tempted to take over an operation or activity, as one of the more experienced participants at St. Spiro’s is always ready to show the proper way to get a thing done. We’ve learned to manipulate paper, leather,wood, fire, water and pigment to make art. We have re-learned how important it is to have a useful contribution to a project be recognized, respected and valued. We know what we’ve always known, that we all have the need to be seen, to be listened to, to be loved. And that we all have the capacity to to value and try to understand and to love one another.

Tuesday was like the other days, Nikos ferried us in his coach up the mountain road, shoe-horned his immense bus in and out or Krousonas--twice. We exchanged smiles and kali-meras. We worked at our tables, toiling at our appointed tasks and instigating art. We played, we laughed. We shared a good and a real life. And then it was time for lunch.