Matala is a beach in Crete made famous in the 60's and 70's by European hippies who would visit for months and sleep in the caves next to the beach. Last year, as a throwback to its heyday, the town organized a Hippie Festival that drew 58k people. Last week was the second year of the event. One of our friends has a home one village over, so we had the perfect setup. Four guys, including George, piled up in my little Opel Astra and headed for the night ferry. Well, three guys. The friend with the home was taking an exam that was cutting it very close to the ferry departure. As we went to pick him up, we got hit by a bus, shaving the left mirror clean off. The bus driver stops, unloads a full bus load of people, calls the police and tells us with an attitude that we were inside 12-meters of the stop so he was not guilty. We huddled up and realized we had three big problems. My car's insurance had expired and under a brand new law the cops would confiscate it, ruining the vacation. Also, there was a certain smelly situation in the luggage that could land us in far hotter waters. [No, dumbasses, no decomposing bodies, we were going to a hippie festival, figure it out!] Lastly, we still had to retrieve our friend with the house. So we had to leave the scene, evade the police, and try to coordinate new pick up with our friend. We managed, although I'm expecting a hefty 500eu fine in the mail for being hit yeah, seriously.
Once on the boat, we acted like adolescents for a few hours, hang out in our cabin for a bit, and slept very nicely, waking up in Irakleion, the capital of Crete, a bustling hustling town. We made a 45-minute b-line to Matala, in time for 8am breakfast. We quickly realized that just maybe there are not enough hippies left in the world, so it was more like a fair. But hey, we were in Crete, with perfect weather and spirit.
Our friend had been raised in that village before leaving for Athens, so everyone there knew him. He had to greet everyone! Quaint but time consuming. Until we connected with all his high school girlfriends, a wonderful group of girls that adopted us the rest of the stay. So, two days at the beach, two nights at the events or just the bars. George has been enamored with the latest craze from Japan, of licking someone's eyeballs, so he kept trying to do this to several people. We even got kicked out of a bar when he went after a once friendly waitress. What ensued was 48 hours of laughter, fun, singing, beach, great food, and general craziness. In a life blessed with hundred such excursions, I can't think of a better one.
It was also full moon and the largest of 2013. You can notice it in several pics.
There were only two scary moments. One, when a wasted drunk Cretan went to draw his beretta because I "got between him and his woman". The other when the friendly girl sitting next to me most of the night, who had been joking how she wants to get engaged to me, told me she actually is living with a guy named Mitsaras. In Greek, that's a double bravado name, like Big Dick Billy Bob or something. Worse, he's an armed undercover cop. I think my real risk is low, but you never know. Anyway, by the time we were to board the ferry back, this had been declared the best trip ever. What we didn't know was that the exclamation mark was still to come. But I'll save that for tomorrow.
Sorry about the car, hope it's all resolved!
Awesome pictures, I can tell you guys had a lot of fun! (well, and glad you are alive, after that Cretan was drawing his Beretta!)
Waiting for the exclamation mark!... now what can that be!?