… to Alexis that I intended to make another voyage in the boat. He volunteered to come before he heard my plan, which is reasonably ambitious. Crete.
Crete is an island made special to me by a visit years ago and by Kazantzakis’ Zorba the Greek, and by various books I have since read about the German invasion of Crete (the one using parachutes, not the more recent tourist onslaught), and, indeed, by the creative visions of Minoan civilisations in Leonard Cottrell’s Bull of Minos, and Mary Renault’s The King Must Die, both of which seek to put archaeological flesh on mythical bones.
Again, though Lionel and I never reached Crete together, we formed an early rosy view of it, and my one-week package trip in the late eighties hardly slaked my thirst.
So, off we will sail together, Alexis and I, to meet adventure and so on. Eat your hearts out.
This is a local cave which emits strange squeaks, whistles, booms and whines due to air being forced through holes in the rocks by wave action. It is probably the origin of many a myth.