11/04  Crete, Greece

04 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

11/04 Crete, Greece


The sunrise was a picture to behold.  Sitting on that beach was like being the only person on the planet.  Once we were all up and awake we attempted to hide the remains of the burnt telephone pole and headed up to meet the first bus to Nicolas.  We were in need of a shower and food.  We took advantage of the stop over on the way to Nicolas which provided enough time to grab some real food.  We were all so hungry but still skeptical after the last experience.  Once we stepped off the bus in Nicolas a little fat kid’s persistence persuaded us to follow him to an available room.  After a few blocks I volunteered to watch the gear while the others checked out the room.  I was told it was a dump.  We traded turns watching our bags while the others went searching for something more inexpensive but also in a more suitable location.  We managed to get lucky and found a really nice room with balcony overlooking the street and most of all hot water to spare.  After we all showered everybody but me was interested in checking out the harbor’s night life.  I needed to play housemaid and wash all my clothes.  I offered and each threw in a few garments of their own.  They came back to retrieve me for dinner but I was at a disadvantage.  Only my bathing suit was dry enough to wear.  So Dave lent me one of his clean shirts.  The shirt had some Canadian this or that written across it.  It seemed everywhere I went somebody would wander up thinking I was their countryman which opened up the door to a different type of conversation.  We ended the evening in a local disco but that wasn’t for me.  Michael Jackson and Saturday Night Fever is not my cup of tea so I wandered off to bed.

We thought about mopeds but the wait for available bikes was far too long.  We ended up instead waiting for Dave to finish up an I love you conversation with his girlfriend back home.  A day of just hanging around the harbor.  We wandered across a group of kids playing soccer with a taped up t-shirt and thought it would be nice to pick them up a ball.  We found a local shop that had soccer balls for sale and bought one but the kids playing seemed to have vanished.  The first young boy who crossed our path became the proud owner of the new soccer ball, be the man.  Elspeth had been talking about experiences she had while working on a Kibbutz in Israel.  To the group Israel sounded like a good idea but I had my mind set on Santorini.  But once we obtained the ferry schedule Santorini didn’t seem practical.  It was the off season and ferries were no longer a daily event so we agreed Israel would be our next destination and purchased tickets to take the next day’s morning ferry.

Those disco nights were not for me but it sure made the girls happy.  They had all paired up on the dance floor and it appeared I was the odd man out.  I was not interested.  I was given a patch of the Canadian flag to sew to the outside of my bag.  They persuaded me that it would help us avoid any anti-American attention while in the Middle East.  I had snuck out of the Disco and wandered along the water’s edge toward our room.  I sat along the shore looking up at the stars and reminisced about the many things that had happened, the many faces and the many memories gathered over the past few months.  It seemed as if I’d been on the road for years rather than just months.  There were so many pieces that made up the puzzle of the memories that now are my past.  I am still too close to see its composition.  Back in my room I caught up on some writing.  For me, reading at night is always a recipe for sleep.

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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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