A Walk around Ayia Roumeli
Crete in spring recalls the flower meadows I played in as a kid. But childhood memories tend to be exaggerated. You would never get that many flowers blossoming all at the same time.
According to the guidebook, it is the climate that forces such an exuberance on the vegetation. The summers here are a mirror image of our winters. The relentless sun sucks the life out of the soil: trees drop their leaves, herbs lie dormant or dead. The flowers have to cram as much into the spring as possible before the land is becoming parched once again.
As a result, Crete in spring resembles a garden.
It is also deceptively quiet. By late April, visitors start to trickle back, but the majority of those who joined us on the boat from Sfakia were hillwalkers, making the most of the springtime beauty and relatively mild temperatures.
As we ferry-hopped across to Palaochora, we passed idyllic bays and villages which looked like an earthly version of paradise. However, the majority of the buildings are hotels. In the season, tourists can outnumber locals ten to one. Still, it takes nothing away from an idyll such as Loutro:
The walkers were disappointed to learn that, despite the mild weather, Samaria Gorge would remain closed until May 1st, but truth be told we were relieved. An 18 kilometre hike wasn’t on our agenda. However, the village of Ayia Roumeli—the final stop before the boat to Palaeochora—lies at the foot of the gorge and a little of the spectacular scenery can be found a short walk inland, which made me reconsider; perhaps we should visit when we return another time.
Walking along the pebble path, it became clear that—while Crete in spring may resemble a garden—it is anything but tame. In fact it can be downright alien.
The strange structures that dangled from the tips of pine branches were not seed pods but the communal nests of thousands of pine processionary caterpillars which—I discovered to my relief when reaching up to one—had long since moved on. Touching the caterpillars’ bristles is said to be more painful than a scorpion sting. I wouldn’t want to experience either.
And while the sea around this area of Crete is an aquatic desert, with only a few patches of seeweed and small shoals of fry scattered about, the same can’t be said about the land, at least not at this time of the year. There may not be many winkles on the rocks, but there were snails on the cliffs:
Here, man and nature are close. This old church in Old Ayia Roumeli is a mere stroll away from the harbour area with its string of restaurants and souvenier shops and just a few steps from the road where hordes of visitors and cars will file past when the season starts in a matter of days, but that doesn’t seem to disturb the birds that built their nest underneath the tiny belfry.
Denni