Samaria Gorge

The final section through the gates

The Samaria Gorge is the longest of the many gorges that run from the heart of the White Mountains to the Libyan Sea to the south. It was declared a National Park in 1962 and is one of the highlights of any visit to Crete.  It is 16 kilometres long from the start at Xyloskalo on the Omalos plateau at a height of 1230 metres to the end of the gorge a couple of kilometres north of the landlocked coastal village of Agia Roumeli. From here it is possible to get ferries west and east to harbours that are linked by roads that have been carved through the White Mountains to the more developed north coast of the island around Chania. Because of this complication, it is difficult to attempt the gorge other than by booking an excursion which provides a coach/bus to Xyloskalo in the early morning and one that returns from Chora Sfakion in the evening. I had been unable to book a trip during the first week of our holiday because the gorge had been closed but was told that an excursion was to run on the last day of the holiday - not ideal but not to be missed either.

It meant an early start in the village where I joined a friendly couple from north Yorkshire as we waited for a minibus to collect us and take us to a nearby resort where a large party of well-equipped Germans were filling a luxury coach. The three of us were surprised that all the German walkers were to be guided down the gorge. We were addressed as self-guided walkers and made to feel slightly second class when the tour guide harangued us to make sure we were down in time. The boat would leave at 5:30 p.m. and would not wait for self-guided stragglers. Still, that gave at least 7 hours 30 minutes and the guide book said that 6 hours was a reasonable time to make the descent.

Map of Samaria Gorge

                               
Cumulative                 Distance     Descent     Time
   
Ag. Nikolaos              3.8km        580m         1hr 00mins
Samaria old village     8.1km        885m         1hr 48mins
Christos                     12.3km      1075m       2hrs 56mins
Ag. Roumeli exit       14.0km      1135m       3hrs 27mins

It was 9:45 a.m. when we alighted from the coach at Xiloskala and made for the stone hut at the entrance to buy a ticket for the gorge, a modest 5 euros. There were 10 or so coaches already parked and as I began the descent it was a busy path of mainly German but also Italian, French, and Scandinavian walkers. The British obviously preferred the good life on the beaches but then it was Monday the day before the flights to and from Britain tended to take place.

The initial descent was steep down an ever-ending set of loops, it was quite a well-made and wide path but it was clogged with walkers. The views behind looking towards Gingilos were impressive and a reminder of the superb walk up there a week earlier. Ahead the path descended through pine and cypress trees which provided shade and cool on what was becoming a hot day. I was feeling fresh on the descent, normally it is something I do at the end of the day after 5 or 6 hours of climbing hills and walking along ridges. I had overtaken over 300 people by the time I reached the first water source at Agios Nikolaos after an hour.  It is located at almost the halfway point of the descent by altitude. There was no need to halt as I had water so I began the next section to the old village of Samaria.

The gradient lessened and the walkers were thinning out, the dry bed of the gorge was crossed several times. The tree cover provided protection from the sun but prevented any views out of the gorge. The quietness was eerie particularly as I approached Samaria and there seemed to be no one ahead. Just before reaching Samaria, there was a mule tethered to a tree, it presumably had brought supplies to the old village that is no longer inhabited but serves as a base for a 'Doctor' and is well provided with picnic tables around the several springs of water. There were 50 or so walkers taking a rest and I joined them to eat my packed breakfast, a cheese and tomato sandwich.

I was still feeling frisky so continued along the next section that was level as I passed the old settlements and then began to enter the narrower sections of the gorge. There were views of the mountains to either side and rock faces that were too steep for vegetation. There was not much descent but much of the route was along the bed of the gorge and the sense of enclosure was more intense. At Christos, the bed of the gorge widened and trees provided some shade around the numerous springs that had been developed. There were twenty or so other walkers resting and I took the opportunity to fill up on water, check the map, and eat an apple.

From here the gorge descends to the 'iron gates' a very narrow cleft and there was a reasonably sized stream gurgling through the rocks. It required several crossings but the rocks were dry and it was no real obstacle although some walkers took stage fright and had to be bypassed. Slowly the gorge opened again, crossed a couple of bridges, and emerged at the exit hut where tickets were taken to ensure that no one was lost in the gorge. You can catch a bus from here to Agios Roumeni but it was too early and the two kilometres of paved roads after all the loose scree made it a pleasant walk down to the coast with the sun helping to develop my thirst. I headed for the sea and found an excellent taverna, I was the first customer of the day and ordered a Greek salad and a litre of beer.

Although I had kept a good pace all the way down, I was surprised to have made it in three and a half hours, it gave me almost four hours to kill before the boat was due to leave. I spent the first hour and a half enjoying the massive salad and talking to a Swedish couple who had arrived. Then a walk to the grey sand beach at the far end of the village for a lazy float in the Libyan sea. I returned to the village and ran into the north Yorkshire couple and we spent the final hour over more beer and discussion with a Norwegian guide who took walks into the White Mountains and sea kayaking trips. He did this for six months every year returning to Norway to work as a bus driver in the winter.

The ferry was fairly full with about 400 people and it was a beautiful sail back along the coast with excellent views of the White Mountains. The late afternoon sun and gentle breeze were a perfect accompaniment. We arrived at Chora Sfakion just before 7 p.m. as the sun set and walked up to the bus park where a dozen coaches awaited us. The man from north Yorkshire had taken the registration of ours so we were early on the bus and then had to wait for late stragglers from the guided party.

The journey over the switchback roads in the dark in a large coach was slightly unnerving with vertical precipices of several hundred metres adjacent to the coach windows. We were delivered back to the village by 8:30 p.m. in time to go out for a last meal. I was suffering from back ache and was glad to get the meal over with. It had been a great excursion but it would have been nice to have had the next day lazing by a pool instead of packing and leaving early for the drive to the airport and the flight to the tortuous charms of Gatwick.

Looking back across to the Gingilos screes

Above Samaria

Mules for supplies to Samaria

White Mountains to the east of the gorge

Passing Samaria the settlement halfway down the gorge

Above Christos

Rockfalls are frequent

Entering the Iron Gate

Exiting the gorge

Lunch at Agios Roumeli

Looking up the gorge from the ferry

Gingilos, White Mountains, Crete

North Face of Gingilos

Gingilos and the Linoseli col from the Samaria Gorge

Gingilos, White Mountains, Crete
Sunday 27 September 2015

Ascent: 840 metres,
Distance: 9 kilometres
Time: 3 hours 55mins
Linoseli Col 1700m 1hr 32mins
Gingilos. 1940m 2hrs 9mins


After 4 days and two of them rainy, I was impatient to head for the White Mountains and the Omalos Plateau. It is the starting point for the famous Samaria Gorge which had been closed since our arrival because of the rains. It is also the starting point for Gingilos, the most inspiring peak in Crete with a vertical north face that looks like Buchaille Etive Mor on steroids.  Our rep had reinforced what all the guidebooks said - that Gingilos was a magnificent and awesome mass of limestone giving a tough but satisfying climb through exposed rock with stunning views over the White Mountains and to the north and south coastlines of this rough-hewn island.

There was a 70-kilometre drive to the starting point, half of which was on the long winding road to the Omalus plateau. Much of the road had been constructed through the European Union funding and it confirmed the perception of some Greek journalists that the governance of Greece had been driven by the civil engineers since Greece entered the European Community in 1981. The drive took an hour and a half including a couple of stops for photos on the quite staggering highway into the mountains. Only through the villages did the road narrow and deteriorate; on the winding ascent, it was a remarkable feat of engineering. The Samaria gorge was closed so the car park was relatively empty.

A path began from the car and coach park at Xyloskala passing a cafe at a higher car park and then continuing as a steep marked path that zigzags up the first 280 metres to the start of the traverse. The path runs alongside a steep gorge that was fenced off to avoid accidents for walkers. Although it was almost noon, there was some shade from the sun on this section and I made good progress to the start of the traverse where the path levels and then descends for about 90 metres through rock-strewn slopes littered with Cypress trees before it cuts under some pinnacles and an arch. It is the easiest and most scenic section of the climb, although quite exposed at times, with views back over the White Mountains and towards the vast screes descending from the col above. The path drops to the Linoseli spring where the water is cool and plentiful. I stopped to hydrate as the next section was exposed to the sun and looked like a tough pull.

It is a 300-metre climb up the steep loose scree slopes to the Linoseli col. There is no respite although a well-trod route has created firmer ground as it snakes up the scree. I missed the path at the foot of the scree and had to negotiate some very loose scree before securing the stability of the path, I was finding the heat a bit much in the early afternoon and climbed within myself rather than hammering all the way up. At the col I rested, slightly disappointed that the views to the south over the Libyan sea were non-existent owing to a bank of cloud.

The compensation was the view eastwards over the entire range of the White Mountains. They sparkled and had a desert-like appearance with the total absence of any vegetation, just gigantic cones of weather-shattered limestone. Below to the southeast was the start of the Samaria Gorge, a slash of dark green trees fingering their way down the gorge to the Libyan Sea. To the north, the Aegean Sea and a number of peninsulas create the jigsaw-like profile of the north Cretan coast. Best of all was the circular Omalos plateau, a flat fertile circle of land in the midst of the White Mountains that provides grazing for goats and sheep as well as producing fruit crops. A German couple were sitting nearby and they began the climb up the final slopes whilst I topped up with some food and water and took photos.

The final section is a 250-metre ascent, a long scramble through rock bands. The route is well-marked by yellow arrows. There is a 150-metre-deep shaft into a cave where two walkers fell to their death. I missed seeing it as I chatted with the German woman who had given up as the scrambling began to steepen and told me she was returning to the col to contemplate and enjoy the view. There was a large party of thirty or so well-equipped walkers descending from the summit,  they had intended to walk down the Samaria gorge but had been thwarted by its closure. I reached the summit shortly after the German walker and we shared our enthusiasm for what was a very good climb. I ate a peach and was joined by a small mountain bird that was obviously practised in enticing walkers to provide some of their food. 

The guidebook had warned that the descent was steep and challenging but the rock was solid and shortly after beginning the descent I was privileged to see a Lammergeier gliding along just below the summit, it had the wingspan of a microlight. The descent to the col was fairly quick and I continued down the screes where I met two Greek women sweating their way up in the mid-afternoon heat. I tried to reassure them that it was well worth it. They were pleased with my enthusiasm but I needn't have bothered as they lived in Chania and regarded Gingilos as the best mountain on Crete and their regular weekend jaunt.

I topped up with water from the Linoseli spring and then enjoyed the wonderful trek along the traverse, relaxed and happy as I absorbed the views of the White Mountains shimmering in the afternoon sun. I enjoyed the very best of walks and it took no time to descend the last 300 metres to the car park. Gingilos is high on my list of top walks.

Good paths

Linoseli Col at the top of the screes

Threading the Pinnacles

Through the arch

Climbing through the screes to the Linoseli col

Vegetation at the Linoseli Col

The last leg to the summit 

Looking down on the ascent route

Looking East from the summit to the Central White Mountains

Omalos Plateau from the summit

Western Crete

Pan, Iraklion Archaeological Museum

Knossos site

North Gate and Bull fresco at Knossos

Dolphin fresco from Knossos

Appolonius

It is forty-five years since I last visited Crete during a month-long tour around Greece and Italy on less than £1 a day including travel. PM Harold Wilson had restricted foreign holiday expenditure to £50 per person, if George Osborne did the same today, limiting it at £1000 per person, the UK's balance of payment crisis would be achieved by far more progressive means than by his austerity measures that put a disproportionate burden on the young and disadvantaged.

In 1970 we had arrived at Crete on a badly listing tramp steamer from Rhodes and, after a few days in rooms at Aghios Nikolai and then Heraklion to visit Knossos, we spent the remaining nights in the caves above the beach at Matala on the south coast to save our drachmas. Our visit this time was more conventional, a fortnight near Chania in western Crete. We were staying in a traditional Cretan village below the impressive White Mountains that rise to 2400 metres. As on all our jaunts this year we encountered the symptoms of climate change with only 6 days out of 14 giving Mediterranean sunshine, the rest were wet and cloudy with storms causing an untimely closure of the Samaria gorge in the White Mountains during our first week.

Before leaving home I had re-read 'Ill Met by Moonlight' by W. Stanley Moss, a book that described the kidnapping of the German General Kreipe by a special unit from the British Army. It is a tale of adventure with the local partisans helping the British travel through the mountainous terrain with the General as a prisoner. On arrival, I was lent a copy of 'The Cretan Runner' by George Psychoundakis, a local shepherd, who carried messages and guided escaped British troops to the south coast from where they were taken off by submarines to Egypt. The Cretan Runner was translated into English by Patrick Leigh Fermor, the travel writer and army commander of the Cretan operation. He also provided a foreword to both these books. They increased my thirst to spend time in the mountains and four days were spent climbing or walking down the splendid gorges of the White Mountains.

We began our exploration with the long trip eastwards to visit the Minoan ruins at Knossos. In 1970 I had been mesmerised by the extent and splendour of a site where the visitor was free to roam around at will. This time it was a more ordered offering with carefully constructed boardwalks to guide you round the ruins that had been excavated and partly reconstructed by Arthur Evans, the British Archaeologist,  at the start of the twentieth century.

Far more impressive was the excellent Heraklion archaeological museum that had benefited from a recent refurbishment. The presentation of the exhibits and the descriptions were of the highest order. The journey to Heraklion involved a 270 kilometre round trip along the E75 main road. It hosted some of the most hair-raising overtaking manoeuvres imaginable with vehicles travelling at the notional top speed constantly forced by speeding taxis and cars onto the hard shoulder whose width was variable determined by rock outcrops and overhanging vegetation.

During the rest of the fortnight, we visited the quite magnificent beach of Elafonisi in the extreme south-west, which is ranked as one of the top ten beaches in the world by Trip Advisor. We enjoyed the Agia Triada Monastery on the Akrotiri peninsula north of Chania. Nearby we despaired at the despoliation of the beautiful circular beach at Stavros, the location of the film, Zorba the Greek. Another day we explored the ruins at Aptero, one of the most important cities of ancient Crete, which overlooks the plain of Chania. We spent another rainy day in the visibly prosperous city of Chania with its magnificent Venetian harbour, busy markets and hordes of happy tourists. As with Heraklion, the Greek crisis seemed to have had little impact on the vitality and hospitality in these splendid cities.

Agia Triada Monastery

Elanofisi Beach

Stavros Bay

Hail Caesar - Roman ruin at Aptero

The Venetian harbour at Chania

Harbour at Chania

Best of all was the walking and on every sunny day, we set forth to walk down gorges, enjoy coastal walks and in my case climb in the mountains. We completed two of the many gorges: Imbros and Irini, and the coastal walk from Chora Sfakion to the village of Loutro that involved a tough exposed descent and a slog across the Sweetwater beach that sits below an unstable rock face. The sight of mainly older German and Scandinavian nudists was a bit like perambulating through a Beryl Cook picture book with the subjects stripped of colourful clothing. Although some of the German nudists do wear brightly coloured crash helmets as well as sun bloc following the death of nudists by rocks falling from the precipitous cliffs above the beach.

I managed a day in the White Mountains, climbing the quite stupendous Gingilos mountain, generally regarded as the best of the many peaks in the range, and then on the last day tackling the 18 kilometres long Samaria gorge, which had been made the first national park in Greece in 1962. It had been closed for most of the time we were there as a result of the rain and winds that caused falling rocks. So we had a full schedule of visits and lots more that could have been tackled had we more time available. Crete still provides lots of opportunities to enjoy the local hospitality and sumptuous scenery below the radar of commercial tourism.

Bareback goat riding and heading for the hills

The Loutro path, not for the faint-hearted

Loutro path from the ferry

Sweetwater beach for nudists with hard hats

Sweetwater Nudist Beach

Sweetwater cafe

The food was remarkably cheap and plentiful although even I began to wonder how many more Greek salads I could eat. All meals ended with a flask of Raki and a cake provided 'on the taverna' and we seldom had to pay more than 15 euros per head for a three-course meal that included a carafe of excellent local wine. What a contrast to the dystopian world of Gatwick airport. We had stayed at an airport hotel in order to catch a 6am flight and suffered a dreadful meal at one of the many irredeemably awful franchised food outlets. We made the same mistake on the return whilst waiting for a flight to Scotland. As an entry to the UK Gatwick is a homage to UK chain franchise outlets with underwhelming service and products as well as rapacious customer exploitation. We were already missing the easy customer friendly, local produce and healthy offerings in Crete. Our only consolation on arriving at Gatwick was that, unlike others on our holiday, we were spared the ultimate holiday indignity: a spin round the M25 on the drive home.

Everything about the demeanour of the Cretan people, their generosity of spirit, friendly nature and focus on local food and drink was an exemplar of how local rather than global services enrich the experience and promote international respect. Crete remains civilised; families and communities are self-sufficient in a way that those of us in more fractured societies aspire to reignite. And this is despite the efforts of Europe and the global corporates to force Greece to comply with trading agreements, exploit its economic opportunities with an emphasis on tourism. 

I had a bit of a spat with a tour guide/commander who was in charge of the coach and boat travel to and from the Samaria gorge for 40 German tourists and 3 Brits. He dismissed Syriza as a bunch of amateur politicians who were denying Greece the opportunity to benefit from the munificence of Europe (Germany). He decried the recent election result in which Syrizia received only 38% of the vote on a 60% turnout, which made them unrepresentative. I explained that it was pretty much the same ratio as the Conservatives in the UK but at least Greece had some measure of proportional representation that required Syriza to work collaboratively. Unlike the UK where we had a majority government arising from the votes of just 24% of the electorate. And when I pointed out that Crete, like all the Greek islands except Chios is strongly pro Syriza, he went apopletic.

It had been clear from the Cretans that we spoke to that they thought Syriza was more protective of the Greek way of life and for retaining some control of its destiny. The guide did not like my challenge and the Brits on the coach were designated as 'self-guided hikers' as opposed to his platoon of German walkers who were marched down the gorge by the commander/guide. It was almost a re-enactment of events in 1944 except we all escaped from Aghia Roumeli, the landlocked village at the foot of the gorge, on the same boat and had a good laugh with each other. It transpired that the tour guide was Dutch and keen to show off his command of languages. He knew who his paymasters were and seemed to find the Brits a bit too anarchic.