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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Bicycle touring Crete

Réthimnon

What happened to that clear sky? The morning dawned totally gray and spitting rain. Sharon felt like laying in the tent and reading all day, but I prodded her out for a pancake breakfast with bananas and Nutella chocolate spread. I wanted to ride since it was a Sunday and that usually meant less traffic.

I got the award for most rubbish picked at one site and strapped a bulging trash bag onto the back of my bike as we prepared to leave the beach. It hadn't all been left by Greeks. Unless they read British biker magazines. Sharon said I had a formidable task ahead of me if I planned to clean the garbage from every spot we camped. Most places had tons of refuse strewn about.

A liberal dose of tailwind pushed us onward to Réthimnon. It was still overcast with rain in the distance. At Réthimnon we dropped off the main road into the small city with the immense Venetian fortress of Fortetza guarding the harbor. Sharon went to explore the fortress while I went to the museum. It had some interesting archeological finds from Minoan sites as well as some Roman sculptures. There was much pottery including tools and weapons.

Réthimnon had narrow streets running through the old section of town. We did our best to get lost in them. On our rounds we lucked upon a small Greek restaurant and ordered our daily pita gyros. Not much was open, but we enjoyed the whitewashed houses with bright trim, the cats prowling the streets, the old woman in traditional black tilling her garden and the Greek Orthodox Rabbi in his black robe and hat as he scurried past.

After sightseeing we headed for the hills. It was quite a climb out of Réthimnon, so, of course, we stopped and bought two kilograms of oranges to lug. We chugged past the sports arena where two teams were battling in an exciting football match (gauging by the wildly cheering crowd).

By dusk we had reached another gorge. We started into a narrow gorge with its sheer tiger­colored walls on one side and steep drop­off to the river on the other. A church was carved into the rock above the road. We considered camping beside it, but there was traffic and they would see us if they looked up at the church.

Realizing there weren't going to be any suitable spots we backtracked to an olive grove just outside the gorge and set up on a sand bar. Sharon wanted to clean up. She just couldn't pass up a fresh water stream.

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