lepers and fishers

Eastwards from Heraklion

Tuesday

Neighbours with the leper colony

Seems the whole of the northern coast east of Herkalion is built up for the tourist trade - bright lights, cafés, discos - and is rather well-patronised this November Tuesday evening by young males under 25 and their motorbikes - hundreds upon hundreds of them, for an hour's car journey ... My tame Greece-expert Nick warned me about Mallia, but I must say the other places along that stretch seem rather similar ...

At the end of the road is the town which to the Greeks is Agios Nikolaus, St. Nicolas to you and me, another of those places like Bournemouth and Marseilles - big, pricey, white, concrete ... from there, I strike north through Lounda, also spelt Lounta, recommended by Iro, but I find nothing there to stop for either ...

At the end of that road, just before it turns into a winding mountain track, is Plaka, a little village which has a restaurant famous for its sea-food, closed now, of course. The last house on that stretch of the coast is some kind of vast taverna with ultra-bright strip lighting and three people inside, an elderly couple watching television and an even more elderly man sleeping at the table with his head on his arms.

click for a larger view!

They show me a rather nice room across the street with a balcony facing out in a picturesque way to the main building - though you at least know that the sea is just on the other side, and there's a kind of squinty view out to the nearby island, Spinalonga, with its ghost town built to preserve a leper colony at a safe distance from the rest of humanity. Still, it has a comfy double bed with rugs on it and an overhead light for reading by ...

Old Maria wants to keep my passport overnight, saying that the police can always come and ask who she has sleeping there ... I hand it over reluctantly, she takes it, then gives it back, saying it's OK, and she can see I don't really want to part with it ...

Georgious (or maybe this one was Yoannis) wants 7,000 drachmas for one night, 12,000 for two; when I ask him if he has something smaller for 5,000 for one night, he says, 'Oh, OK ...' and disappears. But a cup of coffee is more than they can do at 8 o'clock on a November night - 'Sorry, closed'.

I sleep and read till 1.30 the next afternoon, which I guess must have done me some good, and they don't ask for any extra because I'm there after midday, though the notice on the back of the door says they might...