At the risk of sounding prematurely old, oh how my body aches! From the waist down, everything is feeling a little/lot tight today. And by tight, I don't mean firm (though that would be nice), I mean SORE. In my time I've done a fair amount of hiking/trekking/mountain climbing, and so I wasn't overly concerned with the possibility that the Samaria Gorge would present any kind of physical challenge, especially since I'd read that every year busloads of tourists (seniors included) make the 16KM walk, and live to tell the tale. In many ways, the gorge really is quite an easy walk, in the sense that there is no uphill walking, and so from a cardiovascular fitness perspective, is not particularly challenging. The difficulty of the walk lies in the first 6KM of the trail that starts at Omalos, a steep downhill trail of uneven steps and a slopping path of slippery rocks and pebbles. The Gorge itself is quite beautiful, but I must confess that I was so concentrated on putting one foot solidly in front of the other, and was not always focused on taking in the scenery around me. Some of the highlights of the day included the hour-long bus ride from Chania to Omalos, which passes through the mountains and takes in some beautiful vistas, seeing a kri-kri (a Cretan wild goat) hiding in the hills (apparently they are very shy and spotting one on the walk is rare), and taking off my hiking shoes to dip my sore feet in the Libyan Sea after the 5 hour trek.

 

Somewhere near the beginning of the Samaria Gorge, approximately 3KM in.

 

Near the 11KM mark, close to the end of the Samaria Gorge.

 
Even with good shoes and walking sticks, there were definitely more than a handful of people limping their way to the finish line, and onto the waiting boat. In the past, I've seen tourists walking up Huangshan (Yellow Mountain, Anhui, China) in high heels, and climb the inside of the Great Pyramid at Giza in a three-piece suit; in the case of the Samaria Gorge, fashion sense really needs to take a backseat to solid footwear, which is essential for making it down in one piece. That being said, the need for appropriate shoes does not excuse some of the egregious footwear offenses I witnessed yesterday! No matter where you are in the world, socks and sandals remain a fashion faux pas, and more importantly, they hardly qualify as appropriate hiking gear. And while Europeans have the good sense to have not fallen victim to the Crocs plague that has befallen North America, I'm mystified by their refusal to give up the sport sandal as a fashion statement.

Today I realized that there are only 43 days between now and when I'm meant to be going back to Munich, which is far less time than I thought. When I was originally planning this trip, I didn't intend to spend much time in Europe, but in the end it looks like it will take almost a full month for me to get from Paris to Istanbul, where the Middle Eastern phase of my trip will begin. I'm beginning to experience some nervousness about moving forward into the next part of my trip; I previously wrote about how user-friendly Europe is, and how I expect things to get more difficult once I get to Turkey and beyond. Of course, part of the experience of travelling (for me) is about the challenges that are presented by being so far removed from the familiarity of home, but I'd be lying if I said that sometimes those challenges aren't incredibly frustrating and exhausting. For example, in my experience of travelling as a solo female in Morocco and Egypt, there is something unbelievably tiring about the constant stares,  being followed by strange men, and the unending stream of people who call out "konnichiwa" and "ni hao". It may sound trivial, but after a few days, it becomes increasingly exhausting and difficult to ignore. Anyhow, this is all to say that I am hopeful that my experience in Turkey, Syria and (possibly) Lebanon will be different, but I'm mentally psyching myself up for the possibility that it could be a long 43 days, in terms of the more challenging aspects of travelling in the non-Western world.

Lastly, it's another sunny day in Chania, but seeing as walking/sitting/moving is a bit of a labour at this point, I'm not feeling compelled to do anything particularly taxing at the moment. I'm happy to spend my last day in town sitting in a cafe, reading my book ('My Name Is Red' by Orhan Pamuk), blogging, and doing some trip research and planning. I'm heading to Athens tonight by ferry boat, so the next time I write it'll be from the supposed birthplace of democracy!