Heraklion

 

„It’s an ill wind which blows no one good“

On the way to Athens, planning to dock as usual at the port of Piraeus, we ran into heavy winds.  QM2 maneuvers without tugboats but her sheer size means that many older harbors present a challenge even in good weather.

With strong winds, maneuvering can become dangerous to impossible.  So Heraklion/Iraklion, Crete was selected as an alternative port.  What luck!

The ship’s documentary tv station has recently presented a National Geographic program, “Planet Volcano” which included a speculative segment about why the very advanced Minoan culture on Crete vanished completely, leaving buildings but no bodies.  The authors think the massive explosion of the volcano, Thera, on Santorini island, just across the water, was responsible for the destruction of the Minoan culture.  The pyroclastic flow and ash cloud buried the cities and the best guess is that the inhabitants were evacuated, by ship but were then caught in a tsunami, which would also account for the Biblical story of the “parting” of the Red Sea. 

The change was apparently decided upon about 3 pm and within 4 hours, the daily program had been changed and printed, tours to Knossos had been arranged, shuttle busses had been organized to get us out of the port area.

Heraklion was also prepared for the maiden visit of the largest cruise ship to enter the harbor.  The shuttle bus carried us through the secure area of the harbor and then we could take a taxi or as I did walk to the city center. 

My ankle is temperamental – it doesn’t always hurt and the swelling goers down when I sleep so I assume that I am just too fat for my feet, and get on with life.

First order of business in the town – post cards and stamps.  I sat on a bench across from Starbuck’s (which I refuse to patronize until they pay their taxes) to write the inevitable post cards.  A busker playing rather a tired accordion began to play “Oh, Susanna” and suddenly there was a sing-along with the other Americans going up and down the street.

Visited a small orthodox church, an even smaller Catholic church, the fruit and vegetable market, the town square and passed by a gazillion souvenir shops:  large, beautifully embroidered pictures of ships, harbors, fish and more refrigerator magnets than I have ever seen in one place.

There are bits of history all overt Heraklion.  Crete has been home to the Dorians (of Doric column fame), the Romans, Saracens, Venetians, Turks and even a 4-year occupation by the Nazis.  The gene pool must be a geneticist’s dream. 

Parts of the harbor walls date from the 16^th and 17^th centuries but as I wandered through the side streets, I was astonished at the “3^rd world” appearance:  graffiti, rubbish, piles of cigarette butts (auto ashtrays dumped?) and plastic rubbish in all shapes and sizes.

One of the lecturers last year talked about plastic in the food chain.  Plastic in the water is eaten or nibbled on by fish, generally small ones which are, in turn, eaten by the fish we eat.  He suggested that we stop eating fish from 2015 because the oceans and fish will be saturated with plastic by then.  OK, tofu, here I come!