Heraklion, Crete
Well, for starters, it wasn’t 26 in the shade, it was 33. Then you have to add on 6-8 extra for direct sunlight. Some say 10, but I think that’s a bit overdramatic. Whatever your preference, to quote the song, it’s too darn hot. There was a breeze at the port – I had to chase after Dad’s hat, twice! – but once you moved inland, nothing. But this is more like it. Clear blue skies, pounding sunshine, turquoise waters, and… a container port! Woohoo! I thought P&O Cruises were losing their touch, but, true to form, they have come up trumps again. Bless ‘em.
This port is a working one and we were the only cruise ship in. The shuttle bus from the ship to the port entrance was about eight to ten minutes and plentiful, too. At the terminus, we bought tickets for the Hop on, hop off bus and set off in search of King Minos and his labyrinthine pet.
And off we went. There’s a preserved ruin everywhere you look here, just by the side of the road, with VIP-style ropes to separate them from the proletariat, i.e., oiks like us. The recorded commentary was in heavily accented, but intelligible, English and the driver yelled the stops out very effectively. Blue earphones with orange sponges, in case you were wondering. The recording did, however, last less than halfway round! The Palace of Knossos is about 5 km out of town, and no, I don’t know what that is in old money. But Crete is volcanic. Google maps told us that it would be 18 minutes by cab but over an hour on foot, which was our first clue that it would be very much Uphill. In fact, the Palace overlooks the (hopefully!) extinct caldera.
After a while, Dad started feeling unwell – touch of heat stroke perhaps? So we went into a café opposite the Palace entrance, had a cold drink, and I put him in a cab back to the blissfully cool ship.
Greece is not very good at accessibility. They have grasped slopes for wheelchairs, and even a lift at the Acropolis, I’m told, but ambulatory disabled with limited mobility aren’t yet on their radar. Despite nice, smooth boardwalks to lead you through and over the Palace ruins (or at least the results of Arthur Evans’s Victorian reconstructive guesswork), not one person thought to put in a bench. I didn’t make it far, needless to say. On the upside, entry is free for disabled people, and the disabled loo was lovely. But the lack of shade and seating meant I couldn’t hack it for long, and I went back to the ship.
I might even have been on time for my acupuncture appointment, if they hadn’t stopped running the shuttle bus before everyone was back! The poor Cretan security lady had to make several, increasingly aggravated, calls to get them to come and get the last few of us. Apparently, I was the very last to board. Yikes! But, as an indication of the fierceness of the heat, BOB* was 6pm but we stragglers were waiting for the shuttle bus at just gone 5. Everyone else had long since run for cover.
But it was wonderful to finally be in the place that inspired all my archaeological and historical adventures over the past half century. I’ve been desperate to come here ever since my first year at Big School, when Miss Rogers taught us about Greek mythology.
Talking of half centuries, Happy birthday, James!
If you visit Knossos, say hello to the young lady on the audio tours desk. Her name is Hermione, and she may be The Kindest Person On Earth. I cannot begin to tell you how lovely she was to me.
I have finally managed to flummox Joel, by developing a cramp in my KNEE, that he could not fix. He’s still learning what M.E. entails.
The scales in the gym say I’m down nearly six kilos now. The gym is next to the spa, in case you were looking for the sequitur!
And, yes, I did buy a t-shirt.
*For new readers, BOB is Back on Board, our deadline for departure, After which they are legally allowed to leave without you.
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