Since Sam pretty much covered everything there is to cover about Crete (and did so spectacularly) I figure I'll talk about the last day of our program wide trip: the Samaria Gorge. Located in the southern part of western Crete, the Gorge is a national park of Greece and a phenomenal place to hike. They argue about the distance, but it's somewhere between a 16 and 18km descent from the mountains, through the dry river bed and out to the sea (facing away from mainland Greece toward Libya). CYA hadn't been able to do the hike for several years because of inclement weather, so it was truly a special treat to be able to see such a natural wonder.
Despite the 5:30 AM wake up call, I managed to stay awake on the long bus ride from our hotel in Chania (on the northern side of the island) up the White Mountains to the beginning of the gorge. The hairpin, switchback turns up the sides of the mountains brought me back to my time in France and my unrelenting fear of the bus skipping a barrier and rolling down a canyon. Wonderful thoughts for 6:30 in the morning, of course. Luckily (and obviously, or I probably wouldn't be writing this post) we made it to the top unscathed, ready for the descent from the north towards that oh-so enticing goal of a black rock beach to the south. One look at the rising sun peaking over the mountain tops was all it took to get me excited for the day.
The first few kilometers are considered the hardest of the relatively straightforward hike - you spend the first hour winding down the side of the mountain on loose stone paths, dropping in elevation at an alarming rate. It can be killer on the knees if you're not careful.
When the beginning path finally leveled out we found ourselves at the beginning of a dry river bed - the very same river that created the gorge the same way that the Colorado River made the Grand Canyon. Springs and pools still dot the hike, and towards the end the river reemerges and follows the path. I'm glad that we did the hike at the end of summer - I imagine that the river must flood the trails when winter ends and the snow melts away from the mountain tops.
I was in the first group at the front of the pack, taking the hike at a brisk pace, so it was about two hours in when we reached the 8km halfway mark and the abandoned village that serves as a rest stop. It was a beautiful but chilling sight to cross the high bridge over to an almost empty settlement. The main inhabitants of the village these days are the kri-kri, a type of small mountain goat that's only found in Crete and on another small island. You're technically not supposed to feed them, but they're too adorable to ignore. Needless to say, I gave away all of the snacks I had packed to a baby kri-kri. I'm sorry to say that of the many, many pictures of a pygmy mountain goat eating from my hand, none have yet been posted. I scoured facebook for any sign of them, and this is the best I could do.
After that wonderful and animal filled pit stop we got on our way down to the lowest point in the gorge, leaving us with an 8k straight shot through the mountain pass. The sides of the mountain suddenly rise up above you on both sides, nearly blocking out the sun and reminding you of how small you really are and how big and grand the world can be. Mother Nature has a love of "Shock and Awe," I suppose. It was at this point that the river started running again, and we had to cross over from one side to the other multiple times, running over precarious wooden bridges that were missing just a few too many log rungs.
After nearly 4 hours in the gorge we made it to the end and were greeted by the soothing sounds of the ocean. Or, at least I wish it were that easy. There was another few miles of poorly paved roads to navigate before getting to the beach and the ferry that would eventually bring us back to Chania. I got to witness a mountain goat fleeing from our group by climbing a minivan, though, so I guess it was worth it. The beach, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, was truly spectacular. The beach was entirely black sand and pebbles (which were boiling lava hot in the early afternoon sun, but who's complaining?) and the water had the most amazing blue tint that I've seen yet. It was the perfect way to cool off after the hike, and the perfect end to an incredible trip to Crete. And a preemptive thank you to Will and Mary, from whom I've "borrowed" these last two photos because my camera died before I made it to the beach.
γειά σας,
Anthony
Despite the 5:30 AM wake up call, I managed to stay awake on the long bus ride from our hotel in Chania (on the northern side of the island) up the White Mountains to the beginning of the gorge. The hairpin, switchback turns up the sides of the mountains brought me back to my time in France and my unrelenting fear of the bus skipping a barrier and rolling down a canyon. Wonderful thoughts for 6:30 in the morning, of course. Luckily (and obviously, or I probably wouldn't be writing this post) we made it to the top unscathed, ready for the descent from the north towards that oh-so enticing goal of a black rock beach to the south. One look at the rising sun peaking over the mountain tops was all it took to get me excited for the day.The first few kilometers are considered the hardest of the relatively straightforward hike - you spend the first hour winding down the side of the mountain on loose stone paths, dropping in elevation at an alarming rate. It can be killer on the knees if you're not careful.
When the beginning path finally leveled out we found ourselves at the beginning of a dry river bed - the very same river that created the gorge the same way that the Colorado River made the Grand Canyon. Springs and pools still dot the hike, and towards the end the river reemerges and follows the path. I'm glad that we did the hike at the end of summer - I imagine that the river must flood the trails when winter ends and the snow melts away from the mountain tops.
After that wonderful and animal filled pit stop we got on our way down to the lowest point in the gorge, leaving us with an 8k straight shot through the mountain pass. The sides of the mountain suddenly rise up above you on both sides, nearly blocking out the sun and reminding you of how small you really are and how big and grand the world can be. Mother Nature has a love of "Shock and Awe," I suppose. It was at this point that the river started running again, and we had to cross over from one side to the other multiple times, running over precarious wooden bridges that were missing just a few too many log rungs.
After nearly 4 hours in the gorge we made it to the end and were greeted by the soothing sounds of the ocean. Or, at least I wish it were that easy. There was another few miles of poorly paved roads to navigate before getting to the beach and the ferry that would eventually bring us back to Chania. I got to witness a mountain goat fleeing from our group by climbing a minivan, though, so I guess it was worth it. The beach, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, was truly spectacular. The beach was entirely black sand and pebbles (which were boiling lava hot in the early afternoon sun, but who's complaining?) and the water had the most amazing blue tint that I've seen yet. It was the perfect way to cool off after the hike, and the perfect end to an incredible trip to Crete. And a preemptive thank you to Will and Mary, from whom I've "borrowed" these last two photos because my camera died before I made it to the beach.
γειά σας,
Anthony
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