Explore with Fran

Between the lakes

Between the lakes. Quite literally. We were staying at the Swiss town of Interlaken, nestled between the lakes Thun and Brienz. And we could not have had a smoother travel day. Often, when we look at where to sleep we need to consider our mode of transport. Where we will arrive in a place. For much of Europe we have travelled by train, as we did today, and the Hotel Merkur was literally across the street from the station.

The hotel lottery

We spend a lot of time trying to find accommodation. It is exhausting. Looking for somewhere that is not a hovel, yet always trying to find the cheapest deal. With the Hotel Merkur I wasn’t sure what to expect. Google reviews are our first point of reference, and various travellers had given, let’s say, less than positive reviews. Resulting in an overall Google review score of 3.5, the lowest we had dared to book to date.

Would we be met by the same “surly receptionist”? Will breakfast “underwhelm us” as it had done other travellers? As we disembarked the 12.04 train from Bern, and I spotted the unassuming hotel across the street, I steeled myself.

Despite being early, before the very strict 3pm check in time that Swiss hotels adhere to, we were met with a friendly face and a kind offer to watch our bags so we could explore the town ahead of the room being ready. 

Yes, the cows really do wear bells

Interlaken is a small town, very popular with what the guide books describe as “adrenalin junkies”. And immediately, looking up to the skies, you can see some of them, slowly floating back to earth in a tandem paraglide. This became a very common sight over the two days that we were there. A never ending stream of paragliders, coming down between the mountains, and landing in the field populated by cows. Cows that by now were ambivalent to the tourists landing nearby and taking selfies, to prove their achievement. The bells around the cows’ necks ringing as they nonchalantly chewed grass and no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about.

Impressive Interlaken

It is easy to see why Interlaken is such a draw for tourists. Very small, and ringed by impressive, snow capped mountains. If paragliding is not your thing, you can also go kayaking, hike the mountains, and even take a trip to the famed Jungfrau. The highest train station in Europe. 

On our second morning we did something that got our own adrenaline going. We headed to the “Top of Interlaken”, via the steepest, and highest funicular we have ever been on. Harder Bahn is the funicular that takes you, almost vertically, up the mountain, to Harder Kulm, some 1323 meters above sea level.

And the views are spectacular, looking across both the lakes, with Interlaken, tiny, nestled between the two. Even more impressive were the two walkers that appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, having trekked up the mountain on foot. Thankfully, there was a warm restaurant at the summit that we could get a beer and toast their achievements.

Zurich

For our last stop in Switzerland, we were back on the train. We were to spend three nights in Zurich, a place we were both really looking forward to visiting. It was in Zurich that we really got to start experiencing the xmas markets that Europe is famous for. Scattered all over the city, we were never far from a bratwurst and a gluhwein. It turns out that we weren’t very far from a B list celebrity. Vicky Pattison, of one time Geordie Shore fame managed to photobomb a picture of Victoria as she explored the xmas markets of Zurich. She really was “balls deep in Bratwurst” as she had promised on her Instagram feed.

Zurich is a fabulous city. Sat on the Limatt river, which cuts through the old town, it also is home to the largest clock face in Europe. A fact I had learned from an American tourist. St Peter’s church has a clock face in excess of 8 metres in diameter, putting Big Ben firmly in the shade. Strolling through the old town, we headed to a cafe to stave off the cold. We had our sights set on another great Swiss hot chocolate, incomparable with many of the poor imitators you may have had elsewhere. 

Xmas decorations

As the temperatures dropped, and the light started fading, we were drawn back to the gluhwein. Our new “cost of living” indicator. Immediately, the 6.90CHF (Swiss francs) became our new benchmark. I learned that gluhwein typically is 10% volume. Stronger than I thought. And this could explain that the more of it Victoria drank, the more she wanted to purchase xmas decorations. A tradition that started way back when we were in Dubrovnik, Croatia , picking up a xmas decoration for home has become a regular occurence. We are currently up to three with many more xmas markets to come. I fear we will need to buy a bigger bag..

Raclette, a game changer

Having spent money on luxury items such as hot chocolates, we had little left for dinners. This resulted in a few days of living on xmas market food. The highlight of which was my raclette burger. If you have never had raclette, which is very strong, very pungent, melted Swiss cheese, then you need to fix this. Quick. It is life changing. And scraped from the raclette tin, onto the pink pattie of a burger is one of life’s pleasures.

Time to bid farewell to Switzerland

This was our first visit to Switzerland, and we already know that one day we will return. Yes, it is blooming expensive. So expensive. Not the kind of country a traveller can spend much time in. So, in the future, we will return, with money in our pocket and have more than one of those decadent hot chocolates.  For now, we have a train booked for the morning. We are leaving Switzerland and off to country number 15 since we left Perth way back in June.

Our first foray into Austria will be to Innsbruck.

Am I in Switzerland, or France?

If the change in temperature in Milan slowly crept up on us, when we arrived in Switzerland it hit us like a stone. We were going to have to get creative with the few clothes we have squeezed into our bags. Thankfully, we did pack rain jackets, as when we left the airport in Basel it was raining.

Arriving in Basel is a strange experience. As you will know, Basel is in Switzerland. Yet, the airport is actually in France. This threw me into a momentary panic when I was checking out how to get from the airport to downtown Basel. I hadn’t expected to have to find my way from France.

Leaving the airport, is another novel experience. After collecting our bags from the luggage carousel we searched for the exit signs. And there were a couple of options. We could exit into France. Or into Switzerland. Are there any other airports in the world with this scenario? We were later to discover, and visit, a place up the river in Basel where the borders of Switzerland, Germany, and France all converge. Never had I been so close to three countries, all at the same time.

Switzerland, so the currency is CHF. Obvious?

Back at the airport, we left through the Swiss exit and after a short wait we were on a bus headed into the city of Basel. Whilst in the Schengen zone, Switzerland maintains its own currency, the Swiss Franc (CHF). Why “CHF” you ask? I asked myself the same question and a bit of research taught me that CH is the official domination of Switzerland. CH, standing for Confœderatio Helvetica, the offical name of Switzerland. This also explained the numerous CH stickers on Swiss cars.

A transfer to a tram and we arrived at our hotel just before 10pm. The latest we have arrived at one of our destinations. The downside of budget air travel. The upside was that we could spend a little more on our accommodation. Our hotel had a fridge. So salubrious. And a mini bar that was complementary. Quite why that fridge would only have one beer is beyond me, but I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was at this point that I observed what I at first found odd, and have since found out is very common across European countries. The single duvets (two of them) on a double bed. I have since come to realise it happens everywhere, and I like it. Snuggle up in your own little cocoon and don’t be disturbed by your partner’s nocturnal duvet hogging.

Basel, a great introduction to Switzerland

Wandering around Basel was a great introduction to Switzerland. So scenic, with an old town that hasn’t changed for centuries. Meandering through the narrow streets, marvelling at the houses, with a growing sense of excitement as we noticed all the xmas decorations, and large xmas trees all over the city. The xmas markets had arrived in force in Switzerland and it wasn’t long before we were having our first gluhwein of the season. Served in festive mugs, the mulled wine was delicious, sat outside a little cafe, on sheepskin rugs to keep our bottoms warm.

So, in Switzerland, a Cordon Bleu is a posh schnitty

Our “cost of living” indicator had changed from spaghetti carbonara to a wiener schnitzel. A “schnitty” is a classic pub dish in Australia, a particular favourite of ours. The schnitzel hails from this part of the world, next door in Austria, and were to use it to see how expensive places were. Our first evening I had a posh schnitzel. The Cordon Bleu. A schnitzel wrapped around ham and melting cheese. Delicious. And pricey in Switzerland, as we were to learn everything is.

Some things are worth paying for. And regardless of cost, we were on the hunt for our first Swiss hot chocolate. And, we found it. Thick, creamy, and steaming hot. Served with a chocolate on the side, Victoria had a smile that could have lit up the city. Happy wife, happy life, or so they say.

After a couple of days it was time to hit the road again. We had a train booked to Bern and after securing a hotel, my next job was to find a bar showing the England vs Iran football match. 

Why is there a bear pit in Bern?

Switzerland has no official capital, but Bern is one of the three that commonly gets recognised. Walking from our hotel, over the water and past the bear pit…wait, bear pit? Yup, it turns out that Bern has its very own bear pit with a connection to bears that stretches all the way back to the city receiving its name.

Legend has it that Berchtold V, Duke of Zähringen, the founder of the City of Bern, vowed to name the city after the first animal he met on the hunt. This explains the preponderence of bears on the city flag of Bern, and the many statues of them across this beautiful city. It was just a shame that it was the time of the year that the bears hibernate.

I also discovered that Einstein lived a few years in Bern. Passing the apartment he lived in I discovered that it was in Bern that he developed some of his theories that were to change the world, and how we saw physics. The great man is commenorated by a museum in his old apartment and with various statues across the city.

Switzerland steals our hearts

You don’t have to be Einstein to work out how great Bern is. Once again I am left asking myself why we have never visited Switzerland before. Picture postcard perfect. I must pass on my gratitude to Victoria. We were originally going to travel straight from Basel to Zurich. Left to research the options, Victoria got looking at other places in Switzerland that we could visit on the way to Zurich. And so we found ourselves exploring a lot more of this beautiful country than we expected.

I even managed to find a bar to watch the football in, and we were the only ones in there for a while, until a couple of the bar owner’s friends joined us. This suited us fine as we quaffed cold Swiss lager and watched England make light work of Iran.

Tomorrow, we head to Interlaken, and I will be sure to share what we discover.

Revisiting Italy

Whilst our time in Athens had been a pleasant surprise, with the vibrancy, and cheap cost of living, with Italy, we knew what we were getting. Long a favourite of ours, Italy is a country that we have previously explored at length. I will have blogged about it somewhere, I’m sure.

Heading out of Athens there was only one place to start. The Eternal City. Flying into Rome, and transferring to the Termini railway station I immediately felt a sense of calm. Rome is a city that I have explored many times and I never fail to tire of her beauty. Around every corner is something new to stop you in your tracks. Make you pause. And consider the history, and the people that have come before you.

Rome wasn’t visited in a day

Talking of people, Rome was busier than I have ever seen it. True, you may think this of everywhere you go, but this time it was very noticeable. One of my favourite places in Rome to quietly spend a little time is in the Pantheon. Stood in the middle of the vast structure, and staring up through the circular hole, to the sky. With each previous visit I have just wandered in, and around, and taken my time.

When we got there this time, there were long queues, snaking around and around, just like you see when you arrive at passport control in Manchester. No longer were we able to just stroll in and take a quiet moment. We had thought we were travelling in what used to be known as the “shoulder season”. Coupled with the cost of living crisis I keep reading about in the UK and European news, I hadn’t expected such huge numbers of tourists.

Experiencing life through a lens

Things were just as bad at the Trevi fountain. Always a popular spot, never have I been there when you physically struggle to even make your way from one side of the fountain to the other. And the rather sad thing was that most people weren’t even looking at the fountain. They were looking into their phone, on selfie mode, trying to get the perfect picture. Are the days gone where people can just visit somewhere and enjoy it for what it is? As we travel around the world, the great sights are becoming less like places of pilgrimage, and more like Disneyland. Sigh.

Yes, I realise the irony of having a selfie above the last paragraph 🙂

Give me carbonara, please!

One thing that lifts my spirits, when I visit Rome, is the thought of getting Roman carbonara. Around the world there are few dishes as ruined as the humble spaghetti carbonara. Bacon. Cream. What?! Talk about ways to spoil one of the world’s great dishes. But, here in Rome, I know I am getting what I expect. A dish made only of spaghetti, eggs, pecorino romano, guincale, and black pepper. I am getting hungry even writing about it. I could eat pasta every day, and I could eat Roman carbonara twice a day.

Leaning into Pisa

For the sake of my waistline, we needed to move on from Rome after a couple of days. We were back to Termini train station, and heading for a 4 hour journey to Pisa, famous for perhaps the most photographed tower in history. And like everyone else, we did our best to keep it upstanding. Strolling through the Piazza dei Miracoli never have I seen such imaginative photos being taken. The tower being held up. Being pushed over. The tower coming out of ice cream cones. Out of backpacks. You name it, all day there is someone trying it.

Our accommodation in Pisa was only a 10 minute walk from the Leaning Tower of Pisa. A great bed and breakfast in an old building in the Santa Maria district of Pisa. Pisa itself is always associated with the tower, and less seen on photos are the buildings that share the Piazza with it. The Battista is stunning, as is the cathedral. But, people can’t seem to focus their lenses on anything but the famous leaning tower.

My focus was on a restaurant I had seen earlier in the day. Advertising itself as a Roman restaurant, specialising in carbonara, of all things. Guess where we went for dinner that night. And the menu was very simple. Spaghetti carbonara, or Carbonara Imperial, which is double egg and double guanciale. Very simple and very tasty. 

Cash preferred

When it came to paying it turned out there was a “problem with the card machine”, and would I mind paying cash? Without any cash on us, the waiter walked with me to where the nearest ATM was. On the way he was chatting, explaining the “tax is very high” in Italy and cash is better. Ah, I was now beginng to understand why the card machine wasn’t working. That said, the waiter was exteremly freindly, and only charged us 30 euros for dinner, knocking 3 euros off for the “inconvenience”. 

Far from inconvenient, train travel through Italy is fast, reliable, and very efficient. After a couple of days exploring Pisa, and more importantly, having a laundry day, we were setting off to Florence. A favourite city of ours (we could say that about much of Italy), we had a journey of less than an hour, bringing us into Santa Maria Novella train station. From there a short walk had us at our hotel in the city centre.

If it is Florence, it has to be Bistecca alla Fiorentina

If you have been to Florence you will understand why people flock to it every year. It has been 5 years since we were last here and these cities being what they are, centuries old, you soon get your bearings back. With the Duomo dominating the centre, and streets leading down to the River Arno, everything is accessible on foot. One of Mrs C’s favourite spots in the city is Piazza della Signoria, where she can marvel at the replica statue of David.

Last time we were here a recommendation from the AirBnB host had us having our first Bistecca alla Fiorentina at a local trattoria. And yes, we went back this time. Without a reservation, we were queued at the doors, ready for the 7pm opening. Easy we thought. Not so. We were told that the restaurant was full, unless we could eat, and finish within the hour. Absolutely, I said. I don’t feel Victoria was quite as enthusiastic, yet when the steak arrived, a smile crept onto her face. Just like the first time we visited, we were plied with limoncello at the end of the meal, even being “forced” to have one for the road with the staff.

Towering above Tuscany

One place that has been on our list for a long time, having missed the opportunity a few years ago, is the famed town of San Gimignano. Known for the many towers that loom over the Tuscan countryside, we were only a short train ride, and then a bus from San Gimignano so we made our way there.

Back in the 12th century, monied landowners would build towers to display how wealthy they were. It became a competition. A medieval “keeping up with the Jones”. Now, there are a lot fewer than the orignal 72 towers left yet San Gimignano remains a draw for the thousands of toursits that visit every year. We ambled through the old centre and had a great pasta lunch (not carbonara this time) with a glass of wine, keeping away from the biting wind as much as feeding our appetites.

Magnificent Milan

Our last stop in Italy was again to be somewhere we have spent time and thoroughly enjoy. Arriving into Central Station in Milan, I had one thing on my mind. Risotto Milanese. Each region in Italy is renowned for a certain cuisine, (did I mention carbonara in Rome?), and in the north, in Lombardy, risotto is king. Although, I wouldn’t get this dish until tomorrow, our last night in Italy.

The first day was all about re-exploring Milan. The hugely impressive Duomo. The exquisite Gallerie Emmanuel. The Castle Sforzi and the surrounding parks. The elegant cobbled streets of Brera. Meandering through Milan I couldn’t help but notice a distinct change in temperature. The colours in the parks were autumnal, but the temperatures were wintry. We were now having to dig out the few winter clothes we had packed back in June when we left Australia. I was very glad to have my woolly hat to keep the morning chill off my ears.

Our apartment was like the one in Athens, in that it was located in a large, nondescript looking residential apartment block. It was in a great location, just a 10 minute walk from the Duomo, and nearby there were a number of supermarkets, a traveller’s best friend. Each morning we were able to pick up a couple of pain au chocolats and a coffee, all for under 5 euros. A perfect way to start the day.

The day, and sadly, our trip through Italy, was coming to an end. We finished at a cosy restaurant not far from the hotel and the canals of Milan. I had Risotto Milanese with osso bucco and Victoria had the pan fried Risotto Milanese, a way of cooking this northern Italian dish that I hadn’t seen before. We toasted another great country and we looked ahead to what were sure to be, colder days in country number 14.

Arriving in Athens

Leaving Mykonos, and our island hopping adventure, we chose the fast boat to Athens. And by fast, I mean the one that only took us four hours to reach Piraeus, the port in the capital. As we sailed into the port, night had fallen, and we traipsed past over eager taxi drivers, and shuffled with our bags to the metro station. A short-ish 20 minutes walk away. It would have been quicker if it wasn’t for all the uneven pavements we had to drag our bags over.

In Athens we were to spend a couple of days staying between Monastriki and Plaka. A couple of trendly neighbourhoods. We had both previously been to Athens, each many years ago. Following the economic woes suffered by Greece, and the subsequent unrest, I had pictured Athens as being run down and rough around the edges. 

Our apartment in Athens

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Our apartment building matched my initial expectations. A building you probably wouldn’t want to go in, unless your room was on the 5th floor, as ours was. Yet, once up where our room was we were pleasantly surprised. A refurb on the floor resulted in a corridor of newly fitted out rooms, branded “Xclusive”. We had a shower and a coffee pod machine. All the mod cons. 

Walking out that first night, in the dark, we soon realised that we were in the middle of a very buzzy neighbourhood. Bars and restaurants spilling out into the streets. Shops selling tourist knick knacks. It was all very welcoming. We found a restaurant in the Plaka neighbourhood and as we sat down to our dinner, lamb kleftiko in front of me and Victoria pouring the 6 euro house wine from the carafe, we reflected how happy we were to have chosen to visit the Greek capital. 

The Acropolis of Athens

Well rested and after my morning coffee, it was time to plan the day. How else do you spend your first full day sightseeing in Athens? You head to the Acropolis, of course. En route we visited Hadrian’s library and the Temple of Hephaestus, before walking up the hill and joining the long queue for the tickets to enter the Acropolis. 

There is evidence dating back to 4BC that the hill the Acropolis sits on was inhabited. Not specific to Athens, an acropolis is a settlement atop Greek cities. The most well known building on the acropolis in Athens is the Parthenon. Visited by thousands of tourists every year I could only speculate on how many people, in history, had walked these paths before me. 

A last supper in Greece

And walk we did, from leaving the apartment in the morning, we covered much of Athens. Our step count was high, and I was tired. A late afternoon nap did wonders and soon we were back out for a cold beer and assessing dinner options. It was to be our last night in Athens, and our last night in Greece. I was determined to sign off with the dish of the Greek trip. Moussaka. 

Like the “cost of living” reports that compare like for like items across the world, to assess the price of living somewhere, moussaka had become one of ours. A quick scan at a menu, anywhere in Greece would quickly tell us if it was to be a one beer day, or two. I was very surprised to get to Athens and see how cheap it was compared to places like Mykonos and Santorini. A breath of fresh air, and great for the travel fund.

Greece had been amazing. Just as we knew it would be. Already big fans, having the opportunity to spend time on the islands cemented what we knew. Laid back. Great weather. Fabulous food. We know we will be back. But, for now, it was time to head to country number 13, and find bed number 47.

Calm my beating heart, we were headed to Rome. 

Leaving Crete

If getting to Crete proved to be harder than we anticipated, as we shared here, getting off the island was a breeze. The good people at Cretan Transfers were waiting for us in the hotel lobby at 6.30am and by 7.30am we had wheeled our bags up the large ramp, to the SeaJet Super Runner. The boat that was to carry us from Heraklion in Crete to Fira on the island of Santorini.

And it was all going so well. We pulled away from the dock on time. Settled into our comfortable seats, and got our books out. About two thirds of the way into our two hour journey to Santorini, I checked my watch, and blissfully thought of that first cold bottle of Mythos. It won’t be long now. Or so I thought. Then came the announcement.

Adrift in the Sea of Crete

“Due to a direction from the coastguard, we have to change course and go help a boat in distress”.

We waited. And waited. And nothing else came. It seems this was the only update we were getting. Looking around the boat there were a lot of confused faces.

“What is going on”, I asked a recalcitrant staff member on the boat, “How long until we get to Santorni?”

“We don’t know”, was the rather unhelpful reply, followed by a shrug of the shoulders before they walked off.

This left us not knowing how close we were to our destination, nor how long the detour would be. It did not help that the sea was getting rather choppy and my stomach started to feel rather crappy. 

The Ghost Boat

What felt like an age later I could see people start to stand up and move over to the boat’s windows on the left. And then I saw what they were looking for. A solitary boat bobbing about in the water. This was our “boat in distress”. Tied up behind it, in the water, was the dinghy the owners must use to access the boat. The captain of our vessel sounded the horn. We started circling the boat. And yet, nobody appeared. It was like a ghost boat. Very eerie. As we were in the middle of the ocean the owners obviously hadn’t just jumped in for a swim. Something was amiss.

Circling the boat numerous times, each time bouncing up and down in the waves, I started to feel worse and worse. All around me I could hear people heave into sick bags. I took a few large breaths. Then a few more. We can get through this.

And we did. Eventually. After what felt like an age, we got another announcement that told us we could leave the boat and continue on to Santorini. The “ghost boat” would forever remain a mystery. Some four hours after we left Crete we spotted the island of Santorini. I would have preferred the scheduled two hour trip but after seeing the abandoned boat, I had a worry that somebody had had a much worse day than us. We had a lot to be grateful for.

Santorini

Santorini is a beautiful island. Without doubt one of the most scenic of the Greek Isles. It is blessed with charm and a coastline that has no rival. Unfortunately, this charm brings a side that drives me mad. Queues and queues of camera phone wielding Instagrammers. Some even bring bags for a change of clothes for each shot. Give me strength. We were last on the island three years ago and things were bad then. I even had a person ask that I move, in the street, as my “shadow was in their photo”. Correct, I didn’t move. Granted, three years ago we stayed in Oia which is particularly infested with these people.

We hadn’t planned to return to Santorini so soon, yet it made perfect sense when looking at options whilst we were on Crete. So here we were, although this time we spent three nights in Fira, the main town on the island. The views across the caldera are still breathtaking, but Fira attracts less of the annoying types than its beautiful sister, Oia.

One morning in Fira we got talking to an elderly Greek lady. Typical of the Greek islands she was dressed head to toe in black. And she was gazing out over the clifftops, and the water.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”, she asked. “I was born here and return once a year for this view. Each time it is like the first time I have ever seen it”.

“Yes”, we immediately agreed, “it is truly beautiful.”

The look of peace and serenity on the old lady’s face was something that stayed with me for a long time afterwards. 

How to spend your days on Santorini

Our days on Santorini were spent finding the best gyros. Finding the cheapest moussaka. Squeezing in another long lunch down at Amoudi Bay. And doing our laundry. It is not all three star hotels and carafes of house wine when we travel. We also have to do the quotidian. Laundry being the one task we most look forward to. After wearing my socks for multiple days on the trot, there comes a time when if I didn’t take them to be washed, I think they would walk themselves there.

With a laundry bag of freshly washed clothes, we packed up for the last time and headed to the port. It was a travel day. And today, we were headed somewhere new for both of us. The island of Mykonos. An island with a reputation for partying. Not the reason we were headed there, I can assure you. At the port, we overheard one of these tourists that you encounter rather regularly. One that seems to know everything. Been everywhere. And is full of advice.

Mykonos is closed, apparently

It wasn’t advice we needed and when we heard her tell some fellow travellers that “Mykonos is closed”, we looked at each rather sceptically. She carried on. Saying that “everything has shut up for the season”, having been on the island and hearing all the fireworks for the various “closing for the season” parties that bars and clubs were holding.

What we found for our three nights on Mykonos was the opposite. Restaurants were open, and at capacity. Cruise ships were coming in daily and until they stopped docking in Mykonos I very much doubt that the restaurant owners would prematurely choose to close. Staying in a hotel just a 5 minute walk to the town, and the famous windmills, was a masterstroke. Visiting family tavernas, we both managed to get our fix of traditional Greek food. Kleftiko and moussaka topped the list. Would we ever tire of this cuisine? A rhetorical question I always ask myself.

It was to meet one of the cruise ships that had us walking to the port on a beautiful, if somewhat windy day. Little did I know that Mykonos is renowned for the wind that whips through the streets. Off the Norwegian Gem cruise ship came Victoria’s brother and family. We were going to spend the day with them. The timing had worked out perfectly as they were on a cruise between Croatia, Montenegro, and Greece. Having been on the road for a while it was great to catch up with family again.

Athens bound

With James back on the cruise ship, and our time on Mykonos coming to a close, we headed back to the hotel. We were to spend the afternoon around the hotel pool, considering where to go next. As we were nearing November, the smaller islands were closing up for the season. Very few hotels remained open. So we made a plan to head to the capital. The seat of European civilization.

We were headed to Athens.

Leaving Dubrovnik

The taxi from Dubrovnik old town to the airport was on time. A good start to a long travel day. Thirty minutes and we were at the airport. A little early for check in so I had a burek and coffee for breakfast. The burek was traditionally a Yugoslavian breakfast and you can still buy them all over Croatia. I had taken a particular liking to the cheese version. 

Going to Greece

We were here for a flight to Crete. An island in Greece that I had not been to previously. As with most trips to the Greek islands via plane we were to transit through Athens airport. Easy enough, I thought, as this is a transfer we have done often, on previous trips.

Just like clockwork, our flight from Dubrovnik to Athens left on time, having us in Athens early enough for me to stop worrying that our bags might not make the transfer. Athens airport feels like familiar ground now, having transited through so many times. I know where the gyros is. And where the beer is. Just as importantly, I know where the departure gates are

And we got to gate 28 slightly early. All looked good. This was until we crept closer to our departure time. And then nothing. No announcements. No movement at the gate. Just an ominous silence. 

The silence was eventually broken, with an announcement that we would not be departing at the specified time and that we would get “further news” in a couple of hours. What? Did we hear that right? I wandered to the counter and enquired. 

An anxious wait

Yes we heard right. Due to the bad weather conditions on the island of Crete, our flight was delayed and we would have more news later. When the news came, it was worse. Heraklion airport on Crete was currently closed. It had flooded and they had staff frantically trying to clear it. Until they did, there would be no flights in or out of the island. 

My thoughts immediately turned to the start of this long trip overseas. Back to Hamilton Island and our eventual flight cancellation. A bit of drama ensured that day and I did not want a repeat. It was an anxious wait. We did the best thing we could. Took ourselves off for a cold beer.

Later in the day, I was killing time by reading a couple of chapters of my book. Not really paying attention to the muffled announcement. The subsequent round of applause brought me back into the present. I looked at Mrs C expectantly. 

“We are flying to Crete and boarding immediately,” she said. 

A wave of relief flooded over me as we boarded and took our seats, albeit a few hours later than planned. We would be going to Crete today. With the long delay I very much doubted our pre-booked transfer from the airport to the hotel would still be waiting. 

Chaotic Crete

Heraklion airport on Crete was chaotic. Pure bedlam. Greek airports are not the best. Often old and lacking the right infrastructure for the number of visitors they get. The baggage reclaim hall was a mass of people. A mass. People everywhere. We couldn’t work out where the luggage carousels were such were the numbers of people crammed in. 

I had a creeping sense this was not to be our day. When we worked out where our bags should arrive I heard some Americans nearby say that they had already received a text from the airline. Their bags would not be joining them today. Off they traipsed to the lost luggage desk. Joining a very long, and lengthening queue. Oh great, I ruminated, that’s bound to be us, too. 

Except it wasn’t. And things kept going our way. Collecting our bags and forcing our way through the crowds to leave the airport I kept scanning all the handwritten signs for our names. Nothing. We exited on to the street. In pools of water and streets now turning to a morass of mud. The storm had really hit. Our bags quickly became wet, and were getting caked in mud. My spirits lifted when I caught sight of my name. Yes! Our driver was still here and waiting. I resolved to break my rule of not tipping. He definitely deserved a couple of quid. 

Now time to embrace the Greek lifestyle

So it was, late, dark, and still very wet, we made it to our hotel. We had decided to slow down a little and had booked a week in the town of Agios Nikolaos. A week we were really looking forward to. How much gyros could I eat in a week? And is there such a thing as too much lamb kleftico?

Greece really is food heaven

I only had a couple of gyros, but the one above might rank as the best I have ever had. Ever. It was huge. Stuffed with delicious meat. And was under 4 euros. If you find yourself in Agios Nikolaos, you must eat at Karnagio Pita. Unless you are a vegetarian. Hmm. Then I would recommend you stay well clear. We came back later in the week and had the gyros plate. Oh. My. Word.

Local tavernas

If anything makes a Greece holiday authentic for us, it is the unassuming, simple, Greek taverna. And in Agios Nikolaos we were spoiled for choice. We were on the island quite late in the season and it was obvious that tourist numbers were down. Thankfully, we had enough local restaurants to work through our Greek “wish list”. We had lots of halloumi. And when I could convince Victoria that we needed a change, saganaki was next up.

Two of the tavernas we chose did lamb kleftiko, another absolute favourite. A local tradition that we enjoyed on Crete, and did not see again whilst island hopping in Greece, is the bringing out of a free dessert, and a small bottle of raki to share. The Greeks are very partial to raki, and for those of you not familiar with it, just imagine drinking pure alcohol. This is how it feels. But, as the waiter drinks with you, you really feel a need to imbibe. Yamas!

Time to move on

As our first week in Greece drew to a close, the waistline on my jeans felt noticeably tighter. We are managing to do a lot of walking still, but Greek food is not conducive to moderation. At least, not for me. So, I am a few pounds heavier, and happy for it. We are leaving Crete by boat today, headed to Santorini. I have already been researching where I can get my next lamb kleftiko. And if need be, a new pair of pants.