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Sunrises and Sunsets The olive harvest was in full swing. We passed farmers, usually smiling and nodding as we passed, their wives perched behind them, chugging towards fields on custom made minitrucks powered by modified garden tractor motors. The morning exodus from village to olive grove, where the day was spent beating olives off the branches was the daily routine. I wondered if spousal abuse had a higher or lower incidence in Greece. The end of Crete near Zákros was a quiet secluded portion of the island. Backtracking to Palekastro we were treated to many traditional sights. Little mountain villages were just beginning to show signs of life. Hardened old Greeks peered at us from crumbling doorways; old women stooped to feed chickens; others hung out the day's wash; men thrashed olive trees with whiplike implements; donkeys plodded from field to village with huge sacks of olives strapped to their backs. And everywhere, cats darted from doorway to doorway. The villages were not as picturesque as I had envisioned. Gone were the gleaming white houses with sky blue trim-they were the exception rather than the norm. The majority of houses were deteriorating rock and drab unpainted concrete. They definitely had character. Those homes that had once been whitewashed stood in pained neglect, long having lost any look of purity. Rather than the vestal young bride she had once been, the houses reminded me of an aged widow in a faded wedding gown. There was a road of red gravel but we opted to give it a pass, preferring to leave it for next time with our mountain bikes. Over a hill, past bladeless windmills, the grueling terrain was left behind. There was more downhill than up on our return journey towards Sitia. We relished the considerably easier terrain before stopping for lunch at a beach with a serene clear blue sky view and spent the afternoon eating banana chocolate chip pancakes, reading, and talking about how much we enjoyed what we were doing. Often times, our trip seemed like such a dream I called it riding rainbows. We felt incredibly lucky to be able to celebrate so much of our lives together. The sky worked itself into a spectacular sunset. The best thing about cycling in the winter was that we got to see both sunrise and sunset. The riding hours were so short we rarely missed a sunrise. That would be something I missed when the days grew longer again. That and the sleep. We had been getting our quota of rest, but I still wasn't convinced one could get too much sleep. |
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