After travelling the world, I found a great job that returned me to the best city in America: Louisville! Still trying to get to Mongolia, but until then we can reminisce about the good times I had.
Ancient Knossos, present-day Heraklion, home of King Minos' palace and the Labyrinth of the Minotaur.
Crete is an atypical tourist destination. Being the southernmost significant* point in all of Europe** in itself made me want to visit. The real draw for me though was rounding out my ancient archaeological tour of Greece. You're only a wanna-be Greek scholar if you haven't visited King Minos' labyrinth! Most people that do visit Crete go through Chania in the western part of the island. Not me though! The much less trafficked eastern shipyard and airport in Heraklion put us in a prime spot to uncover the legend of the minotaur...
*Excluding very tiny islands, such as Gavdos just below Crete
**It's worth mentioning in fairness that some of Cyprus is even further south, but Cyprus' inclusion in the continent of Europe is contentious.
The Συντ⍴ꙇβάνꙇ (Suntribani??? no translation found) fountain
We arrived by speedy ferry from Santorini in the evening and spent the night walking around town. We enjoyed one of the best dinners of our trip here at Amalia's Kitchen. Like Zapiecek in Warsaw, this restaurant was worth returning to the next day. Amalia's is a family-run restaurant with some of the nicest owners imaginable. Huge recommendations for the dakos (Cretan specialty) and the moussaka, but everything we had was really top notch. We chatted the family up a bit about our travels and in return they gave me and Phil free nachos, free water (unusual for Europe), free dessert (some sort of crème brulée), and four free shots of the father's homemade vodka - both nights we ate there! Γεια μας! Let me throw a few sites at you which we found during our first evening's perambulation. These are all in the center of Heraklion. They are surrounded by a busy nightlife of restaurant-goers.
Venetian Loggia
Morosini Lions Fountain
Church of St. Titus
My hair is starting to bleach silver-blond now from all the sun. My luscious locks haven't done that since the summer of '99. I do think my hair looks really good at the moment - took me a couple weeks to grow into my pre-trip cut.
In the next daylight we caught a few more minor sites before setting off for the minotaur.
Inside the Saint Minas Cathedral...
...and out.
A look to the west from the Venetian City Wall
Our four mile trek to King Minos' palace begins from atop this city wall. Nobody walks to the palace. Maybe an occasional biker but nobody walks. There are no walking paths once you get outside the city. We waddled and sweat over boiling hot black asphalt as cars dodged us. This would be the longest uninterrupted walk of our trip.
Legend says the labyrinth was designed by Daedalus to imprison the deadly Minotaur. Minos demanded penitence from the Athenians for their role in his son's demise, and so Athenian youths periodically were sentenced to eternally trying to escape the labyrinth. Inevitably, Daedalus' diabolical design doomed the damned to death by the demon before they could depart the maze. The Greek hero Theseus volunteered himself one year as a sacrifice and, upon arrival at Knossos, fell in love with Minos' daughter, Ariadne, who gave him advice as to how he could slay the Minotaur and find his way out of the labyrinth.
You can notice in many of these pictures a "labyrinth" taking shape. Obviously there was never a half-man-half-bull-half-pig creature running about, but Minos palace was definitely constructed without ease of navigation in mind.
You might also notice that some parts of this palace look nice. Suspiciously too nice. That's because some English screw-up archaeologist named Arthur Evans took it upon himself to rebuild the ruins he excavated according to his imagination. Phil and I both hated what he'd done with the place. Total agreement. There's a time for restoration and a time for reconstruction, but you'd better make sure, in our opinions, that you are outputting a result accurate to the T.
What Evans did was practically turn the site into some sort of theme park. If you're having trouble distinguishing between original sections of the palace and renovated sections, don't worry, so were we, even in person. And that kills so much of the magic of this site. At every stone we had to ask "Did Minos or Evans place this?"
Good thing they put those fences up, because my inner Link is calling.
I don't regret going once to see the minotaur, but I certainly wouldn't go again. The entrance fee is too high to merit strolling through Arthur Evan's travesty of a creation.
Hey! Listen!
The city-state/Republic of Venice controlled Crete for several centuries in the late Middle Ages. During the tail end of their rule, the Venetians brought the Italian Renaissance to Crete and Greece, but before then, at a time of persistent war, they were responsible for bolstering Crete's defenses, including the city wall we were previously standing above and also this Heraklion Fortress:
Cannons shoot out those little windows at incoming enemy vessels.
From on top of the fortress
Don't miss the mountain-scape!
A walk through the tourist area eventually yields a spectacular clearing into the deep blue.
Look up the Heraklion "Lighthouse". You'll see the mile-plus jetty we walked along to get to it.
Yes, that thing on the right side of the picture is the "lighthouse". Still, it was a fun walk.
And finally, we have my favorite museum of this entire trip (maybe my favorite ever, up there with the Met). The Heraklion Archaeological Museum was, oddly enough, our first and only archaeological museum. Given how much I liked it, apparently we should have attended more of them, especially the one in Athens. It's a wonder that it took us so long to get to one; but I suppose when you are seeing the "real stuff", who needs to see it in a museum?
Hades with Cerberus and kidnapped wife Persephone, whose annual return to the Hades' underworld brings about the winter season.
A lineup of great Greeks
The draughtboard board game
One artist's recreation of Minos' labyrinth
Though I did own an airsoft once, I'm really not one to possess a weapon: guns, bows, or what have you. However, I do find the history of weapons very interesting. I am being far from novel to say that weapons give some of the best insight into how technology is progressing in any era. We name whole epochs by what types of weapons are being produced at the time (Stone Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age)! And though we have stopped the widespread naming of time periods after weapons (Gun Age, Missile Age, Nuclear Age?), we nonetheless can use weapon development as compelling evidence of the status of technology and which societies are local/world superpowers. The forces with the best weapons will dominate. The whole importance of the Iron Age is that iron weapons are more durable than bronze or stone! Durability, that's it! When a civilization using iron engages in battle with a civ stuck in the Bronze Age, who do you think will win? So when I take pictures of WWII weapons in the Warsaw museum, you can know it's not just an infatuation with MoHAA.
The museum has a room and a half devoted to weapons - a complete armory!
The labrys, or double-bit axe, was a favorite of Cretans and is a symbol of Greece.
A collection of ceremonial shields
Ancient jewelry
Just before grabbing our bags from hostel storage and leaving, we were treated to a show by the local Duende Dance Academy in front of the Loggia. There were some very talented dancers. Elementary school girls made up one dance troupe and I swear the youngest girl there, probably not even in elementary school yet, stole the show. Not illegitimately by being super young and getting all the attention that way. No, she was actually a prodigy. I don't have any recordings or photos of her performance because that would be creepy. Thanks, society.
Bravo!
We chartered a very early flight out of the Heraklion airport into Rome and consequently slept in the airport instead of a hostel that night. That was a rough. It was a three mile walk this time from the center of town to the airport; not as long as the walk to the labyrinth, but now we are carrying our big backpacking bags. Ooof. All this walking took a big toll on my sanity due to chafing, and I think Phil started to complain about his legs at this point. Time for a new butt - my old one had a crack in it.
This is my final post before returning to America. Sad to be going but my body is so beat. Butt is gone, legs are gone, feet are really gone. Glad I finished up Greece, soon I will start the posts on Italy and the remainder of my trip.
We booty-danced all over the roof of this church in my new swimsuit just before sundown. God was not happy, but I was.
There are two famous Greek islands for tourists: Santorini (aka Thira, aka Θή⍴α) and Mykonos. For reasons of my fascination with the iconic blue churches, I picked Santorini for our trip prior to hopping over to Crete. This could have been the perfect place to relax, but due to either short-sightedness or selecting for cheap travel times back when we booked our cruises (can't remember), we were only in town for a much-too-short day and a half. In our desire to see all of Europe, we didn't insert a day to bask and relax. I consider this one of my biggest follies in planning this trip, of which I really haven't committed many. In hindsight, a day from Florence could have moved to Santorini. There's no question we could have spent at least a day more just lounging on the beaches, provided we had enough sunscreen. I got my only serious sunburn of this trip in Santorini, and on just my thighs of all places. It'll make sense, read on.
Before we continue on my journey, make sure you caught all three of my Athens posts: alpha, beta, and gamma! I popped them out quickly and you may not have realized you skipped one.
On arrival from Athens, our bus to the hostel needs to work its way up that sliver of a switchback road.
Plenty of cruises come and go from Port Santorini.
After dropping our stuff at our hostel where our efficient hydration methods were foiled by our discovery that the Santorini tap water is barely potable, tasting like a mix of salt and milk, Phil needed to buy sandals and I needed to buy a European bathing suit (my second souvenir). Then we decided that an ATV rental for 24 hours would be our best way to traverse the island. So we jammed our combined 180 kg big boy frames onto the smallest off-road vehicle we could find in a laughable display of stinginess. And, haha, we still chuckle at how absurd we must have looked. Although we could barely move on any inclined road, which made getting to the highest point on the island especially difficult, we did make it everywhere we had to be.
Starting our ATV cruise
Phil likes the feel of my bare legs clutching his sides for stability.
Some shots from the highest point in Santorini, called Moni Profitou Iliou. Some sort of Greek military base exists up here also.
Looking down on our hostel area
The biggest Santorini town of Fira is straight ahead.
Way in the back on the north end of the island is Oia, where the blue-capped churches are most dense.
From now on, we spent the entire day doing a full lap around the island. Mostly, I was hunting for the best possible shot of the blue-caps. It was all so relaxing, going anywhere and taking our time, bound by the 30 square mile island. For I think the first time, our time in Europe felt like a vacation vacation, and not a scramble to see every possible site. We rode all over the island, hollering "Santorini!" as we went, taking nature walks where we could, and learning to say "you're welcome" in Russian (bo-jah-LUI-sta). And so you see why I wish I gave us more time here.
These blue-caps are all over the island, you can't miss 'em.
The blue-caps exist in some of the strangest, most desolate places.
There are beaches all over the island, including at least one nudist beach. There are black- and red-sand beaches. And I swear there is no sand in the depths of hell as hot as that black sand.
I'm a cool guy.
Public paths two bodies abreast woven between buildings on the mountainsides are difficult to navigate, especially in the more crowded towns.
You can get right up to some of these domes. They are public churches afterall.
Shoutout to the Santorini board game.
Did the perspective fool you? This is a little church model left in memory of someone who died on this cliff.
The path out to Skaros Rock
Ready to dive in. Like my swim trunks?
So malnourished. And you can see my thighs getting beet red from the beating the sun laid on me while on the back of the ATV.
Bojahluista!
Behind Skaros Rock
Looking back on the island
Now we had two things on our mind. Get to the lighthouse at the southern tip, and get somewhere good for sunset. We couldn't make it to the lighthouse for the sunset in time, but fortunately there are many locations on the western coast for a good look at the sun. You get to see it fall behind the mini-islands and light up the water.
Phil and I sat at the top of a cliff in the southern quarter of the island to watch the sun disappear. It was a heartfelt evening, eschewing the usual jokes we would toss at each other ever since our first semester in grad school. Yes, we are just two normal guys... sometimes. This evening, we shared the soul of humanity, staring out at the edge of the world.
We talked about how special seeing a sunset is. We are alive for about 32,000 of them, but how often do you actually see the sun fall below the earth's horizon? Usually it's behind a building or hill. I know in my case, I treat the sunset like a time. Oh, it's just a point in the evening, a number. We speak of sunsets like they happen every day, but if you don't witness it, did you truly appreciate what the solar system has done for you? Count how many you actually see. Maybe one a year for most people. It's a jarringly low frequency.
With the sun gone, we didn't give up on getting to the lighthouse. The walk past the lighthouse to the very southern tip is tricky. Definitely don't do it in the dark.
The Akrotiri Lighthouse
After the lighthouse, we went to the beach near our hostel, lied out under the stars, and napped until it got too chilly for my tank top. We spent the next half a day eating and lying on the beach some more until we had to go catch our next ferry to our last stop in Greece. The late June Mediterranean water was colder than I expected but still plenty warm. I had the best Greek salad ever that day. Sure, the garden produce was especially fresh and there was a generous portion of feta, but I think I relished it so much because my body was telling me I need to eat more vegetables.
Aside from shortchanging our beach time allowance, we missed out on a potentially interesting tomato paste museum. Yes, a tomato paste museum. If I'm ever back in Santorini, I'm going.
Santorini was weeks ago. In real time, I am in the Zurich airport. Short layover in Dubai (kinda hoping to miss my connection to spend more time there) and then Tokyo thereafter.
Not even another concussion would cause me to forget this day.
You can notice in many of these pictures a "labyrinth" taking shape. Obviously there was never a half-man-half-bull-half-pig creature running about, but Minos palace was definitely constructed without ease of navigation in mind.
You might also notice that some parts of this palace look nice. Suspiciously too nice. That's because some English screw-up archaeologist named Arthur Evans took it upon himself to rebuild the ruins he excavated according to his imagination. Phil and I both hated what he'd done with the place. Total agreement. There's a time for restoration and a time for reconstruction, but you'd better make sure, in our opinions, that you are outputting a result accurate to the T. 
