Spring 2019: Crete – Tirana Part One

In Spring 2019, before I started this site, I cycled the first stage of my intended multi-stage ride from the southernmost town in Europe to the northernmost town. I took notes, took photos and made some videos with the bike. This is my account, split into digestible parts, based on those notes. I have tarted it up here and there, but basically these are the notes I took.

Day 0: Wednesday 17 April: Brussels – Athens – Heraklion – Ierapetra

My day starts at 5.45am fresh and rested. 

Or should do. But instead I am up at 5.01 having tossed and turned all night with my brain regularly waking me up to ask whether it is 5.45 yet. 

I think about all the things that could and certainly will go wrong:

  • Missing the flight by oversleeping
  • The airline refusing to load the bike
  • The bike getting left in Brussels
  • The bike getting left in Athens
  • The bike getting lost
  • The bike box being destroyed
  • The bike box falling apart in the rain
  • The bike seat getting lost
  • The derailleur getting crushed
  • The bike not fitting in the rental car
  • The bike getting stolen
  • Hotels refusing to store the bike safely
  • My credit cards not working
  • My wallet getting stolen
  • Getting zapped by a thunderstorm
  • Getting drenched by rain.  Every day
  • Cycling into fierce headwinds.  Every day
  • My hips becoming too painful to ride
  • My feet becoming too painful to ride
  • Not being able to cycle up all the hills
  • Food poisoning
  • Getting a cold or the flu
  • Getting dehydration
  • Having an accident
  • My bike puncturing
  • My brakes not working
  • Getting chased by dogs
  • Getting bitten by dogs
  • Getting bitten by snakes
  • Getting run over or knocked over by cars
  • Impassable roads
  • Missing the ferry to mainland Greece
  • Not being allowed into Greece because of a sudden no deal Brexit
  • Not being allowed into Albania
  • Missing my flight back to Brussels
  • My bike box being destroyed.
  • The bike box falling apart in the rain
  • The bike seat getting lost
  • The derailleur getting crushed

So I wake up in a state of paranoia, convinced that my DriveNow rental has gone hideously wrong and that their free Park and Keep overnight scheme is a lie. Or I misread the instructions. Or I forgot to lock the car properly so it is still charging me at the full rate. 

So at 5.13 I am outside in the street, checking the car. It is locked. And exactly where I left it. But still probably costing me a gazillion Euros. 

So I shrug back to the house and lie there for half an hour. 

By 6.07 I am in the car, the bike in its box resting in the seats I folded over the night before. And then off down the hill. And then back up again to check that I had really double locked and alarmed the house. Which I had done.  Obviously.

By 6.30 I am at the airport, box and everything out of the car and rental ended. For €22,89. For the entire trip. Including picking up the car last night. And supplement for airport parking. 

I spend the rest of the day paranoid that they will send me a correction. The decimal point was in the wrong place or something. 

 

The view down to Patras and the bridge that I will be riding over

Long stop over in Athens enlivened only by fight on the bus to the plane with Austrian who was shoving his backpack in my face. His attempt to lecture me on politeness was rather undermined when he nearly shoved his backpack into the face of an elderly Greek lady. Luckily his girlfriend intervened and quietly told him in German to shut up and stop annoying people.

Finally in Heraklion and reunited with my bike, which actually made it through customs before me. Beautiful drive to Ierapetra in the setting sun in an old but functional rental car.

I retreat to my hotel clutching my stomach after underestimating Greek portions and hospitality at a fish restaurant on the harbour. Nevertheless, the gods will be pleased at my sacrifice in their honour.

Day 1. Thursday 18. Ierapetra: 0km

A good night’s sleep. I am reassured by good coffee over breakfast. 

I slowly put my bike back together on the balcony of my room. Derailleur Ok. Left front fork a bit squeezed. It always seems to suffer. A quick trip to a bike shop, where they pump the tires and straighten the derailleur. Always a good test of culture: when you offer payment, how do they react? Austrians, Hungarians, Serbs and Bulgars refused payment. This guy and Estonian pocket a small fee. 

Back into the car for a brief visit to the Lasithi plateau. I stop for an agreeable lunch of grilled pork and chips, letting time pass. It would have been better to take more time here but at least it is a glimpse. I get back to the airport and drop off the car in time to catch the bus back to Ierapetra. Waiting for it, I talk to a British Chinese couple heading for a spa hotel in Malia for the Easter weekend. With the amount they are paying for it, he explains, they will not want to leave the hotel. What a shame. 

 

Windmills on the Lasithi plateau

A good dinner and walk around the port. Ierapetra might not be the most beautiful or fancy of places but it SMELLS right and that statement probably only makes sense to you if you grew up by the sea. A good sea port and a nice unassuming place to start. 

And an amazing stroke of luck on the way back. I pass the restaurant where I had eaten last night. The waiter beckons me excitedly. “Sir, you dropped your drivers license.” His boss hands it back. “You are very lucky guy. Another day and I take it to the police.” In a small way, a good omen for the trip. The gods have been pleased.

Day 2. Friday 19. Ierapetra- Milatos Beach: 60km

The gods smile on me a bit less. A brutal day. 60k should be easy but this gets progressively harder until I am begging for it to end.

It is not the climbing, though there is a lot of it. It is the wind:30-40 kph all day. Every time I work my way up a long hill, there it is, pushing me back, an effort to get downhill and that is when it is not buffeting me from side to side 

The scenery is fantastic: wide mountains on both sides, small coves, turquoise sea, pretty little villages. 

By the time I reached Milatos Beach, I was an hour late and destroyed.

Luckily, I am in fine hands at the Porto Bello hotel, where I am offered coffee and chocolate to recover, while a gale force wind rips by outside. 

Dinner in a small place just off the sea. Simple but delicious. Grilled octopus. 

A couple arrive. They are from the West Midlands, had settled 20 years ago and are speaking a mixture of Greek and English with the locals. I did not mention The Thing and nor did they, even though I wonder how it will affect them.

They warn me that the wind will still be strong the next day. And there’ll be rain. “Stay in bed. Take a taxi.” As they left, again: “Stay in bed”. 

Stats: Distance: 60.1 km, Total Distance: 60.1 km, Elevation Gain: 927.5m, Average Speed: a pathetic 13.1 kph

Day 3. Saturday 20. Milatos Beach – Heraklion 49k

A new day. The wind was still gusting but a lot lighter. I ignore the advice to stay in bed and call a taxi. I start with a stiff hill to get going and wake me up. Then down into the tourist sprawl of Malia and Gournes, mile upon mile of fur shop, flip flop shop, bars and grills. I feel sorry for the tourists if that is all they see. 

Lots of unpleasant riding along the main road but still much easier and the wind dropped to almost nothing. Stay in bed. Call a taxi.

Gradually it all thinned out and a lovely stretch of turquoise sea with kites flying before the climb to the airport and then down into the usual chaos of a big city with the entrance to Heraklion. My faith in cycling is somewhat restored.

I check in, grab some lunch and then off to Knossos by bus. It is quietly impressive though I am conflicted about the attempt by the British archaeologist Sir Arthur Evans to reconstruct and paint part of it. Insensitive vandalism or cultural restoration? 

In the moments before the return bus, I try to get a peek at the Villa Ariadne next door, where General Kreipe lived and was spied on by Patrick Leigh Fermor before the latter kidnapped him.

Real pain in my hips. This could be bad. I get worried about the big climb the next day.

Dinner by the sea, snails in vinegar marred by a chain smoking couple at a neighbouring table. Welcome to Greece. Except the lady was German, much older than her Greek boyfriend and lecturing him throughout the meal.

I drink my complimentary raki from a blue fish-shaped bottle. Highly sophisticated. And the raki does wonders for the pain.

Stats: 48.2 km, Total Distance: 108 km, Climb: 569.4m, Total Climb: 1497m, Average Speed: 15.6

Day 4. Sunday 21. Heraklion – Rethymno 79k

Up out of Heraklion on a perfect morning and into the hills, a 500m climb that became better and better. I did not exactly sprint up it, but took my time, stopping after climbing each 80m or so. On climbs like these, it becomes meditative, meter after meter. My hips complain a bit but not as much as feared. 

Near the top, I was passed by a bunch of racers going the other way. “Bravo “ many said, feeling pleased with themselves. But I was the one lugging his body weight up the hill. At the top, I get called by the hotel I am heading towards. What time will I arrive? I tell them that it is difficult to predict as I am coming by bicycle from Heraklion. “Heraklion? But that is a long way away…”

The views are magnificent. And I pass the famed mountain goats.

The smell is magnificent too. Springtime can be a joy to cycle in. 

Then a long downhill for the next 40km. No wind against me this time. Awesome. This is why I ride.

I get into Rethymno just before 6, knackered. An awful touristy town. The hotel room at the Cressa Corona Boutique Hotel is perfect though: stylish but practical, and quiet. 

Stats: 78.9km, Total Distance: 187 km, Climb: 1097.0m, Total Climb: 2,594m, Average Speed: 15.8 kph

Day 5. Monday 22. Rethymno – Chania 58k

A great breakfast: scrambled eggs with herbs, fresh fruit juice and coffee on the rooftop of my hotel and overlooking the town with mountains in the distance.

The view at breakfast

But I feel a bit wiped from the ride the day before. I am settling into the ridiculous routine of the bike tourist: ride, eat, sleep. Repeat. I am often in bed by 9.30, up at 8 and then on the road around 10.30, 11. 

So ride. I spent most of the ride with the White Mountains or Lefka Ori to my left, justly named as they are still covered in snow. It was a glorious backdrop.

I had been warned that the road to Chania was dangerous but apart from one bit towards the end, it did not feel that way. For most of it, there is a decent hard shoulder but occasionally it is narrow or overgrown. And then there is the way that the Greeks have drilled a small channel on the northern side of the road – always the bloody northern side – wide enough to trap your tires but erratic enough that you cannot simply ride on the hard shoulder, but have to go wide out onto the road, no doubt annoying the drivers. 

Always nice to get off the main road, even for a 250m climb over a headland. I always worry or resent these climbs before I get on them but once on them, the adrenaline starts pumping and I settle into a nice rhythm. I notice that I am struggling less on the climbs, my heart rate down and my hips complaining less. A good sign but I have to be careful. 

Into Chania. A sprawling city of mad drivers. On my way to my hotel, I have to get off the bike to walk the last section through narrow streets. A big dog lies in the middle of the street. I delicately try to work my bike past it. At the last minute, it wakes with fright and brushes against me with its mouth and then barks but mercifully does not bike. I check my leg. Nothing not even a scratch. Hello paranoia. But I need to be more careful. 

Chania

Eat. A good dinner at a converted Turkish baths. Grilled pork chops followed by braised rabbit. Hardly any vegetables. Not the most healthy diet but delicious all the same. Sleep.

Stats: 58.1km, Total Distance: 245 km, Climb: 641.6m, Total Climb: 3236 m, Average Speed: 16.4kph

Day 6. Tuesday 23. Chania – Kissamos 43k

A slow start because I meet my work colleague Panos for coffee and bougatsa, a type of custard pastry. The place is supposed to have the best bougatsa in Chania but frankly it is a little cheesy for my stomach. I notice that Panos leaves a lot of his behind as well. He tells me that his home town of Thessaloniki makes better bougatsa.

Then on the road for the fifth day running. Actually not too bad. But a vexatious start, working my way out of Chania and then with no break, mile upon mile of tourist resorts, bad traffic, rutted roads, potholes, and that bloody drilling right along my side of the road. 

After about 15k, it finally thins out and I pass the German graveyard at Maleme, a peaceful spot. This is where the German invasion of Crete began in May 1941 and a scene of massive fighting. Hard to believe that it was the sight of so much death. 

Then another hard but beautiful climb over a headland with the Lefka Ori in the background before a snaky descent towards Kissamos, my final stop in Crete after a wonderful few days of riding.

A final fish and wine dinner on the quayside, watching the sun go down. Sad to leave Crete after an almost perfect start to my trip – excepting the wind on the first day – and determined to come back. What a beautiful island and what lovely people!

Stats: 43.5km, Total: 289 km, Climb: 368m, Total: 3603m, Average Speed: 17.1kph