10/27  Matala, Crete Greece

27 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

10/27 Matala, Crete Greece


With the birth of a new day we began to head back to fetch our bags from the hotel.  Beyond all odds we managed to fit all of us and all the baggage into one cab.  Two of us had to lie across laps in the back seat.  Our taxi driver slid in an eight-track and we were off to the airport.  I found it odd that the stewardess confiscated only the US passports and then forced us to sit in specific seats, “the American” section.  I guess in case of hijacking that would better protect the locals.  I believed my eyes closed for just a second but when they opened we were landing in Crete.

Everyone was herded like cattle from the plane towards the buses.  We figured it would be more economical for us to divvy up a taxi fare again, which meant we could avoid the lines and get a head start toward sleep.  We bargained with a local driver and headed to Malata.  I remained awake while the rest of the group slept.  The snoring made both our driver and I smile.  He dropped us at a small hotel on the outskirts of Malata.  The taxi driver gave us the impression that it might be the only hotel that could accommodate us.  We were all too tired to go looking for other options and just wanted to get some sleep.  Once I got myself situated I put on my bathing suit, found myself a towel and headed straight toward the sand.  It was still early in the morning so when I reached the cove I was the only one on the beach.  I took a swim out about seventy-five yards or so and two seconds after returning to my towel I was asleep.  I have no idea how long I was out or even if I was embarrassing myself by snoring or let’s hope not.  When I awoke from the heat I was surrounded by sun worshippers.  I wandered half asleep back to my hotel room crawled into bed and didn’t awake until early evening.  I woke to discover that I was alone again and assumed everybody else had gone into town to eat, so I got dressed and did the same.  The moon was up and the beer was flowing.  Each restaurant was about an arm’s length from the next and it wasn’t uncommon to move between tables and between restaurants.  I had been seeking that type of atmosphere since Portugal.  I noticed Dawn and Heidi were at each other’s nerves.  They didn’t like the fact that they both ended up in the same hotel.  I understood they had been traveling together since they met up in Bavaria at the Oktoberfest and even though they separated from time to time, somehow they always ended up in the same space.

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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