Manos and Me

Iraklion, Crete

I took a trip with Manos today--from the northern coast of Crete to the southern.

I woke up and decided that this hotel, a hybrid Greek version of the Holiday Inn,( 225 rooms, stucco, very loud sound system by the pool, meals w/ the room etc., etc. ) wouldn't cut it for me today. Not with all these ancient ruins miles away. I had arranged for a guide to take me to the major Minoan ruins at Knossos tomorrow,( since today was Sunday, the tourist agency told me it would cost twice as much... I thought I could wait) and the archeological museum that holds all the bounty from the digs begun at the turn of the last century.

So, I went to the front desk, and asked the clerk, Doula, if she could find me a taxi driver that could speak English and take me to three sites: Phaestos, Goryn, and Matala--for just a couple of hours. I had plans for the beach in the afternoon.

I waited at the entrance of this massive venue, and a silver Peugeot pulled up. A puggy, smallish man with a paunch and kind brown eyes got out with a map. " I take you to places ancient, lady," he said, his bluetooth earpiece sticking out from behind his ear making it look like Dr. Spock. I showed him the list of sites I wanted to see. "Just two hours. How much for that?"
Manos opened his arms wide. "Just one million euros, madam, for you." He smiled. " I think 110 Euros." We settled on 100, and shook.
Off we went. An hour later, we were at the first site, the Basillica of St. Titus, who was the Christian disciple who tended to the Christians in Crete. Lest I lose some of you w/ this Christian bent, it is somewhat historically interesting to consider that Christianity would have been a sect in Jerusalem if Paul and his buddies hadn't made the rather daunting trip from Jerusalem to the rest of Asia Minor and Europe. I was on the Aegean last night to get here from Santorini, in a big hydrofoil, and it was choppy--no picnic. Imagine what it was like in 100 C.E.
Just a thought.

Back to Manos and our trip. Manos stopped, I went into the 4th century structure which was pretty much what I've been seeing elsewhere,but I felt compelled to keep up the Paul theme.

I got into the silver cab, and Manos, who really spoke only minimal English, if we go now to Phaedis. Off we went, me checking each village with the map while I listened to his tape of greek folk music ala balilaika. Another 45 minutes over mountaineous regions, we arrived passing endless fields of olive trees and. ( By the way, I'm pretty sure they have it right in this part of the world---plant olive trees and vineyards with a few tomatoes and some lambs--what more do you need? )

the site near Pitsidia is one the most famous Minoan ruins in the world. And it didn't disappoint. I walked around the site, mostly not reconstructed but still quite intact. There were six civilizations in approximately 15 mile radius beginning with Neolithic ruins. More on the Minoans after I see the other major site, Knossos, with my guide --who does speak Engish!

Our final stop was the coastal village of Matala. Manos didn't tell me, but he must have been confused about what I wanted to see. So, when we arrived in the little village cum beach hideaway, he asked a local whose Engish WAS good. " I want to see the caves," I said, leaning over Manos. The local said a few sentences in greek to Manos. "Where are you from, " he asked, tilting his head. I told him and he smiled.
"Very nice here, you come have drink with me after caves." Well, now it happened. I'd been hit on by a greek man. How flattering. Didn't bother to tell him I could be his mom.

Manos did a U turn, and suddenly we were approaching a stunning rock cove and sandy beach, all Med blue and green, with big waves crashing against the eggshell rock. There, on the right, were caves carved out of the rock. Shrieking, I jumped out and walked barefoot along the beach about 400 yards to the edge of the openings. The caves had originally been a Roman cemetery; then Cretans inhabited them. Why not? Warm in winter, cool in summer, and what a view. In the 1960s, hippies apparently took them over. Since 1980 or so, they have been taken over by the island department of culture as an historical site. This isn't the first cave dwellings I've seen in Greece but the only one that I would have liked to call home ( OK, second home. )

I bought Manos a coke, and me a beer, and back we went to the Dolphin Bay Hotel. Half the time, he was either text messaging or talking to his buddies while smoking as we moved in and out of traffic ( two lane ) passing anyone who even seemed slow, regardless of how tight the turn up the mountain might seem. And more greek music.

More olive trees and vineyards as we retraced out tracks. Four hours from our meeting, Manos dropped me off. "I take you again, Maria Katerina, when you come back to Crete, yes?"

How could I say no.
M.C.