Chania

We also explored the old town of Chania. Chania is gorgeous—it’s a port city with winding cobblestone streets, narrow alleys festooned with blooming flowery vines, and picturesque little shops and restaurants. I’m pretty sure that I want to own an apartment here someday.

Beach Days

Next we went to Elefonysis Beach. Elefonysis is a series of islets that becomes an isthmus at low tide, with beaches on both sides and a shallow lagune with crystal-clear waters. We rented beach seats under an umbrella, passed out in the shade, went swimming and hiked around the islet a bit (I’d read about ancient ruins and was determined to find them, but they stayed hidden).

Samaria Gorge

The next morning, we woke up at 6:30 to hike the Samaria Gorge.

The Samaria Gorge is 16 kilometers long, running from the Cretan highlands to the sea. It's a must-do for hikers, and we discovered that early on--there was a horde of tourists there even as early as we got started. The mountains at the beginning were stunning, and it just got better from there.

Making Our Own Trail

After running around and freaking out like a total nerd over Minoan ruins I'd read about my whole life (I am a huge greek myth geek...did you know that the plane tree next to the Gortys Law Code is supposed to be where Zeus had his affair with Europa? The tree didn't look really old to me, but it was pretty...)

Knossos, Phaistos, Gortys

So the first day in Crete, we got into Heraklio in the morning after an all-night plane ride, then immediately went to Knossos. Knossos is an ancient Minoan palace rumored to be the inspiration for the Greek "labyrinth" myth involving King Minos and the Minotaur, supposedly because the palace itself is extremely complex in design. It's a bit hard to see the complexity still because a lot of the palace is off limits to tourists, but what I did see was stunning.

The next day we were in Phaistos and Gortys, two other important historical sites. Phaistos is another Minoan palace, while Gortys has ruins from the Dorian and Roman periods. Seeing all of those sites close together like this was actually really interesting, because all three were presented in very different ways.

Knossos was first excavated by the archaeologist Arthur Evans in the early 1900s. He built a lot of reproductions on site that archaeologists today see as a bit controversial. As much as I loved the site, I did find myself wondering about whether interesting things I was seeing were "genuine" or rebuilt--I have those feelings no matter how carefully reproductions have been based on archaeological evidence. But still, a large percentage of what you can see at Knossos is original:




This is the oldest known paved road in Europe, older than Roman roads by thousands of years:



Phaistos is another important Minoan site. There were no reproductions there--all the structures were original. What was really cool was that the site was constructed in stages--the Old Palace part, dating from about 2,000 BC, was mostly destroyed a few times before the major reconstruction of 1600 BC--but the old palace facade was excavated along with the new, so you're really looking back in time and seeing multiple layers of history here.







Gortys was neat in a different way. There was a large excavated part that had a gorgeous church and the amazing Laws of Gortys, the earliest law code in Greece which is still in situ at the site. But across the street from that, there's a huge area that's barely been excavated and not restored at all. We weren't allowed to go inside, though we could look at the excavated part from a distance. The small part that was excavated was surrounded by fields full of bricks and rocks from Roman walls. The most interesting thing to me was thinking of how much of the old city was still under our feet.



This is what most of the unexcavated part looked like, although there were still a few standing walls:





At Gortys there was an olive tree that had grown around a broken Roman column and was at least a few thousand years old. The plaque next to it said that it was possible someone had put the column there and the tree had grown around it, or that it had fallen against the tree during the earthquake that supposedly destroyed the town.



I think this is what I always look for when I'm in an old, haunted place like this. I look for signs of the actual people--not the walls, not the statues, not the columns, but the people who were there and what happened to them. The column in the tree is something that evokes a story--a mysterious story, but something real. It's more than I felt at Phaistos (though I walked around looking for it all day) and definitely more than I felt at Knossos, where sometimes I wasn't sure whether I was looking at something real or a reproduction. I always want to feel like the first person to find a place after the people who lived there left. I want to root around in the bones and the ash. Like an archaeologist, I want to bring them all back.

Open Mic Night

I've been teaching myself guitar, and I've got the calluses to prove it. I remember when playing guitar used to hurt. Now, I actually like that bite I feel when pressing the pads of my fingers up against the steel strings. I press them harder to make it sting more. When I haven't played guitar for a few days, my fingers ache to feel it.

The other night, I went to an open mic night at a cafe near MJ's place. When I got there, I found it was really informal--it was just the owner and her friends hanging out and singing each other songs. And I actually did it. I actually played a song, in public, using the owner's guitar. It was a bit hairy--I definitely screwed up a few chords--but I got through it. Hopefully it'll get better from here.

And then I read some poetry. I am a far better poet than I am a musician--so it was the poetry that got me the free drinks. Several glasses of wine later, I collapsed in bed and woke up with a hangover the next morning, my ambitious plans for an early morning gym visit completely shot. The hangover's gone now, but I've been pretty lazy all weekend. Maybe next week, I'll go back.

Skiing in the Netherlands

If you’re going skiing indoors in the Netherlands, here are a few tips.

1. All skiing in the Netherlands is indoors. You'll see why if you ever visit here--the entire country is flat as Kansas.

2. An hour is enough time. Really. No matter how huge the facility is, it’s really just a bunny hill with a roof.

3. Those rope pulls move fast. The one on this slope did not get along with me. It whacked me in the back. It whacked me in the face. It jumped out of my hands when I tried to grab it. Once I went up the entire hill hanging onto it with my hands—harder than it looks. I made it to the top through sheer will.

4. Don’t let the indoor-ness fool you. It is cold in there. They have to keep it above freezing. Both times I’ve gone skiing indoors in the Netherlands, I hadn’t brought my ski clothes—so I’ve had to borrow MJ’s. This time I went skiing in jeans, about six layers of thin sweaters and t-shirts, and MJ’s jacket—which is laughably too big for me, as can be clearly seen in the above photo, in which I imitate a potato with legs.

That’s pretty much it for tips. Other than that, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Let the fun begin!

On Being Far Away

While I’ve been in the Netherlands, a lot has happened. New York City has experienced an earthquake and a hurricane—neither severe, thankfully. My hometown in Vermont, where my parents and sister still live, was hit a bit harder—with massive flooding that tore down beloved landmarks, gouged canyons in the roads, and reshaped the landscape.

Meanwhile, things are peaceful here in the Netherlands. It’s cold and rainy—though we’ve had a few nice days. And I can’t help feeling a bit frustrated with that peace, and at being so far away from events that are affecting people and places I care about.