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From Santorini our Greek island cruise led us south to the island of Crete – specifically to its capital, the port city of Heraklion.

Amongst other things that we encountered during our brief sojourn there I was particularly taken with these two tugs in the harbour. Specifically I was fascinated by the extraordinary disparity in size between them. The little one looks like a toy!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI also like the dancing cranes in the port – and the decorative umbrellas in this little backwater in town:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidWhat one really goes to Heraklion for, though, is to prospect the site of the ancient palace of Knossos – regarding which Wikipedia helpfully offers us this:

“Knossos is the largest Bronze Age archaeological site on Crete and has been called Europe’s oldest city. Settled as early as the Neolithic period, the name Knossos survives from ancient Greek references to the major city of Crete. The palace of Knossos eventually became the ceremonial and political centre of the Minoan civilization and culture. The palace was abandoned at some unknown time at the end of the Late Bronze Age, c. 1,380–1,100 BC. The reason why is unknown, but one of the many disasters that befell the palace is generally put forward.

The site was excavated and the palace complex found there partially restored under the direction of English archaeologist and pioneer in the study of Aegean civilization in the Bronze Age, Arthur Evans, in the earliest years of the 20th century.”

Most of the recovered artifacts are now in the Heraklion Archaeological Museum, whence these images were taken:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid Images of bulls feature heavily, of course, as does the absurdly macho amusement of bull-leaping!

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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In the centre of the caldera of Santorini there are two new(ish) islets that appeared after the eruption that created the outer ring of islands. These form the visible part of the dormant – though potentially still active – volcano. On our second day in Santorini we boarded a lovely traditional Greek boat to visit the islands and to climb to the top of the cone. We also got to to swim into a small bay on one of the islands in which there is an underwater hot spring. One cannot but be very aware of the immense power the lurks beneath the surface of this beautiful and peaceful spot.

Images below… double click as ever for the big picture!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

 

 

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The Greek islands were so beautiful and photogenic that I could not resist capturing images at every opportunity. Herewith a selection of those that would not otherwise find a place:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid…and could this chap look any more Greek?

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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On our first day on Santorini we went on an excursion to visit the villages of Pyrgos and Oia. The latter is the second largest settlement on the island after the capital, Fira, and is probably the best known to those who have not yet visited. The gentle reader will see why this is so from the attached images.

First, though, this is Pyrgos:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidWe loved the hats as lampshades:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidAnd this is Oia:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThese images could almost be of a model – or of an Escher-like illustration:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidGorgeous!!

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After a brief hiatus in Milos:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid
…to gather our thoughts and to absorb what we had already experienced it was onward to one of the highlights of our short voyage through the Cyclades – two days at Santorini. The InterWebNet furnishes the bare bones concerning the island:

“Santorini is one of the Cyclades islands in the Aegean Sea. It was devastated by a volcanic eruption in the 16th century BC, forever shaping its rugged landscape. The whitewashed, cubiform houses of its 2 principal towns, Fira and Oia, cling to cliffs above an underwater caldera (crater). They overlook the sea, small islands to the west and beaches made up of black, red and white lava pebbles.”

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidOnce tendered ashore the main town of Fira is reached by ascending the cliffs by one of two methods – the traditional mule ride up the steep and twisty path, or the modern and spectacular cable funicular. No guesses required…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidOn our first day on Santorini we had one of those wonderful lunches – in a beautiful restaurant overlooking the caldera – that seems to transcend the usual dining experience. The food was fabulously fresh and every mouthful delivered an explosion of taste, the wine was chilled and chilling, the view was spectacular and the company was scintillating. What’s not to love?! This was the view…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidNote that our cruise ship (the one on the left of this photo) is positively pint-sized compared to the giant that hove up later and dropped anchor in front of us. Bah!

Now – Santorini is known for a number of things, but perhaps most tourists know it for its sunsets. Indeed, on clear days (of which there are many) there seems to be something of a competition to nab the best spot to capture same (most probably these days in the form of the backdrop to a ‘selfie’ – but I will whinge more about that later).

Anyway – so as not to disappoint…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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Having boarded our cruise ship in Athens and settled into our balcony stateroom we had a little time before setting sail to acquaint ourselves with the port of Piraeus – the largest passenger port in Europe and the second largest in the world overall.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidHaving set sail into the gloaming as we dined we slept to the gentle swell of the Mediterranean. We awoke the next morning to find ourselves docking at the first port of call on our whistle stop tour of the Aegean – Mykonos.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThe island and harbour town of Mykonos are both very pretty – the town centre comprising many small twisty lanes full of fascinating emporia dealing in all manner of artistic and decorative artifacts… mostly aimed at the visitors from abroad to be sure, but none the less appealing for all that.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidThis chap was gutting the day’s catch – to the enormous delight of the seagulls. Best restaurant in town – and the views…!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidNo visit to Mykonos would be complete without taking the short boat ride to the neighbouring sacred isle of Delos. The island is now completely uninhabited save for the archeologists who perpetually work on the ruins of the various civilisations that formerly occupied this holy sanctuary.

The pathways through the ruins were narrow and there were many tourist groups fighting for space on the day of our visit. Here are our tour guides running to the entrance to be first in the queue to pick up group tickets, before the rest of us have even left the boats.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI got a few photos but with the crowding it was difficult to get good shots. There were many opportunities to come later on the trip for better images of antiquity.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThese guys had the best idea!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidAfter a busy day the balmy evening in Mykonos was quiet and relaxing.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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In my hurry to get yesterday’s post out I did not correctly edit the photo of our Greek cruise ship. As a result on some devices the image appeared sideways.

Amateur!

Here it is again the right way up…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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Following our stay in decadent hotel luxury in the depths of Surrey – during which hiatus we visited (and were visited by) many lovely generous folk who all seemed eager to commune with us (or just to gawk at the strange people from Canada!) – we continued our UK visit by taking to the road in our hire car to visit on successive days Colchester in Essex, Sevenoaks in Kent and Maidenhead in Berkshire. The purpose of these brief but delightful tarriances was, naturally, to foist ourselves upon the hospitality of dear friends whom we had not seen for at least four years. The results were – hopefully – to the mutual enjoyment of all parties.

Well – that is certainly how it was for us, anyway, and it was lovely in several cases to visit for the first time the new homes of those that we love! Thank you all.

It was also good to be able to visit ‘new’ places. The following images – for example – are of a part of England that I have not visited since I was a very small boy and of which I have – naturally – virtually no memory at all.

I like these houseboats (or live-aboards as Canadians would term them). I sense a certain Dickensian feel to these images of inexorable decline (though maybe I am actually thinking more of Dickens by way of David Lean!).

What is glaringly wrong in this photo of the lovely cricket ground that has been used since 1974 by Copford Cricket Club in Essex?

That’s right – there is a massive oak tree at midwicket (or in the covers depending on which end the bowling is currently from)! The ground is on the estate of Copford Hall and the only restriction that the owners place on the club is that the oak cannot be disturbed. It makes an interesting – and very English – hazard!

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Some photographs of the spookily sparsely occupied Oatlands Park Hotel and its environs (see previous post for context).

Looks like the clientele has not only checked out but also contrived to leave!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Oldest friend and his good lady live in a part of rural England that is perhaps the epitome of all that is considered to be the most English of Englishness.

They did not always do so of course. When we were growing up we all lived in a small town by the river Thames in Surrey that the locals to this day (or at least until not that long ago) insist on calling (without irony) ‘the village’.

We have each now disappeared in our own directions – us to western Canada – they to the borderlands of Worcestershire and Herefordshire. Naturally I made the pilgrimage to the heart of the country to get a look at our friends’ new home (the which I had previously only glimpsed briefly in estate agents particulars online) and to re-connect with them. A thoroughly lovely couple of days in the countryside ensued.

These images give a general impression of the area – and if you can hear strains of Elgar playing somewhere in your subconscious as you view them I would not be in the least surprised.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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