Greece travel | Travel Thru History

Mieza: A Royal School for Noble Boys

Macedonia, Greece

by W. Ruth Kozak

It was a school, dedicated to the Nymphs, fashioned for a young prince and his companions. Built along the edge of a lush, forested ravine, with a series of caves in the hillside where boy could explore, the school at Mieza was built by Philip II for his adventurous, precocious young son Alexander.

Located near the royal city of Pella, Alexander and his chosen companions were sent there to study under the tutelage of the eminent philosopher Aristotle. There could not have been a better teacher for the future king of Macedon, who would in time become known as Alexander the Great. A Macedonian by birth, whose father had been the court physician at Pella, Aristotle had already made his mark on the ancient world, establishing a school in Asia Minor as well as in Athens at the Lyceum. He had studied as Plato’s pupil in the Academy at Athens and remained there for twenty years where he enjoyed a distinguished reputation as a thinker, scientists and philosopher.

You won’t find much, if anything, in the guidebooks about Mieza. Located a short distance from the town of Naoussa, it is now receiving more attention from archaeologists who are lobbying the Greek government for funds to finish preserving the site, including several ancient tombs nearby. They hope to turn the area into an archaeological park. Although the ancient city of Pella has been open to the public for several years with many new excavations on-going, the site around Mieza has until recently only been open to archaeologists. If the site area is turned into a park, the antiquities of Pella and Mieza will be connected with pathways and there would be guided tours offered to the public.

The ancient town site of Mieza was first excavated in 1954. It was a settlement of prosperous Macedonians reflected by the remains of luxurious residences and villas built by its wealthy inhabitants. It flourished during the zenith of the Macedonian kingdom (4th – 2nc centuries BC) The largest tomb found there, known as The Tomb of Judgement, dates to the early 3rd C. B.C. and is thought to belong to Peukestas, one of Alexander’s generals. The tomb, which needs restoration, includes a colourful wall painting in bright red, gold and blue depicting Hermes, who guided souls to Hades.

Plutarch mentioned Mieza in his “Life of Alexander”, referring to the Nymphaeion where Aristotle instructed young Alexander. The stone seats and shady walks still survived in Plutarch’s day and more recently, the caves were uncovered and identified with the Nymphaeion. Today some structures survive ‘in situ’ while some clay artefacts and roof tiles are on display in the museum at Veria.

I traveled to Mieza via the town of Naoussa, after a visit to the royal tombs of Vergina (near Veria). The town of Naoussa is on the slope of Mt. Vermion and is known for its rich red wine, peaches and silk. A short taxi ride from the town delivers you to the entrance to the Nymphaeion, the site of Aristotle’s fabled school.

In 343 BC when Alexander was thirteen years old, his father, Philip II, invited Aristotle to come to Mieza as the young prince’s tutor. Philip developed the area known as “the Nymphaeion” near the ancient city of Mieza, in a tranquil setting of lush vegetation, fresh water springs and caves full of stalagmites and stalactites. The school was called “The Peripatos” (‘the Walk’). It was a two-story L-shaped building linked by staircases, built along the face of the rock incorporating the many caves in the area. The school’s facilities were set up to harmonize and blend in with the environment. At this school, in the beautiful woodland setting dedicated to the Nymphs, Aristotle taught and educated Alexander and other scions of Macedonian royal houses.

What a thrill it was to walk those same paths and rock-cut stairways under the bowers of the plane trees. Wild figs and grapes grow there, and ivy drips from the bowers. The only sounds are the chirring of the cicadas, trilling of birds and gurgling of the river.

Inside the largest cave, that had carved passageways, I imagined hearing the voices of the boys echoing from the past. Alexander and his elite companions attended the school for two years. Here on the shady walks and on the stone-tiered seats, he was initiated into philosophy and poetry, mathematics and natural sciences. In 340 BC at the age of sixteen, he left Mieza and returned to Pella in order to act as Regent while his father was away in Perinthos and Byzantion. His bond with Aristotle remained strong through all his life, as did the Aristotelian thought on his educations, his philosophy of life regarding ethics and politics and the development of his personality, one of the most fascinating personalities of the ancient world.

It seemed appropriate that when I left Mieza, I went to Thessaloniki and found myself in the Plateia Aristoteles, where there is a statue of the philosopher. I strolled down the sea-front, past the magnificent statue of Alexander riding his horse Bucephalus, facing Eastward toward his conquests of Asia. A group of young boys were practicing their skill on skate-boards around the tall sarissas and shields that flank the monument. I visualized Alexander at that age, trying out daredevil stunts as he was known to do, not much differently than these modern Macedonian boys.

Thessaloniki Half-Day Food and Culture Tour

If You Go:

VERGINA: Site of the royal tombs: located 11K s.e. from the town of Veria. Open 8 am – 7 pm Tues – Sun
MIEZA: The Nymphaeion and ancient city site: located on the road that leads from Naoussa to Kopanos
PELLA: The royal city: located west of Thessaloniki on the Edessa road. Open 7 am to 7 pm daily. The museum is open 8 am to 7 pm. Tues – Fri; 7 am – 3 pm Sat and Sun.
THESSALONIKI: Northern Greece’s major city, reached by bus or air from Athens.
TRANSPORTATION: There are buses between all the towns and some tours available to the sites such as Pella and Vergina. Mieza is a short taxi ride from Naoussa. For those driving, the roads are well maintained and marked.
ACCOMMODATIONS: Good accommodations are available in Veria, Naoussa and Thessaloniki.

About the author:
W. Ruth Kozak has been a student of Macedonian history and Alexander since she was a teenager and is near completion of a novel about the fall of his dynasty titled “Shadow of the Lion”. She has lived in Greece and visited all of the Macedonian sites many times for research and to connect her with the past.

Photo credits:
Mieza nympheum by Jean Housen / CC BY-SA
All other photos are by W. Ruth Kozak.

The Ghost City of Mystra, Greece

by W. Ruth Kozak

My journey began with a dream: my deceased mother pointing to a spot on a map and saying “This is Mystra. You must go there.”

Mystra, a ghost city near the Peloponnese city of Sparta, dates from the Byzantine period. Usually I prefer exploring the Classical or Bronze Age sites of Greece. But who can ignore a mother’s guidance? I packed my tent and began the five-hour trip to Mystra at the bus terminal in Athens.

The highway hugs the sea coast north of Athens and crosses the Corinthian canal, a deep slash cut through the rocky Isthmus that joins the Aegean Sea and the Gulf of Corinth. Passing ancient Corinth you have a view of the distinctive mountain, Acrocorinth, where once the famous courtesan-priestesses of Artemis plied their trade from the Goddess’ temple.

Leaving the Gulf shores, the road winds inland through harsh, stony terrain and mountains covered with holly-oak and scrub pine forests. My first stop is Sparti (site of ancient Sparta) located on the Lakonian Plain and surrounded by high, snow-capped mountains. Irrigated by a river and mountain streams, the Plain is lush with orchards, citrus and olive groves, and vineyards. Spartans were noted as the most dauntless warriors of the old world though not much remains of the ancient site. I have time to visit the Museum and walk the flag-stone pathways where oleander and wild flowers bloom among the ruins.

A troupe of children follow me to the Sanctuary of Artemis Orthia, near the river, begging me to take their photos. The place is haunted by the spirits of Spartan youths who, on reaching puberty, came to this shrine to honour the Goddess in a rite of passage. At Artemis’ altar they were flogged until their blood splattered the stones. Some did not survive the beating, others who did proved themselves worthy and went on to become warriors, like Leonidas the Spartan hero of Thermopylae, whose statue stands outside the Stadium nearby.

I catch the local bus to the village of Neo Mystra, six kilometers away. Neo Mystra is a picturesque little village of quaint stone houses with red-tiled roofs, twisted lanes lined with fragrant rose gardens, and magenta bougainvillea spilling over white-washed stone walls and balcony trellises. Yellow flags bearing the double-headed eagle of Byzantium fly from every wrought iron balcony, and each lamp post is stamped with this golden symbol. In the centre of town, at the cross-roads, I come upon an ancient oak tree, its thick trunk entwined with roses. It has grown around the spigot of a spring where cold drinking water still gushes. I fill my water flask here before venturing up the hill to the hold city, just as pilgrims might have done in medieval days.

Built on the slopes of Mount Taygetos, the Spartan’s sacred mount, the ruins are two kilometers up the mountain. One of the most important cities of Byzantium, Mystra once had a populations of 45,000 and was occupied until 1830. Villas, monasteries, restored palaces and churches are strewn up the steep, uneven mountainside. The gabled houses had balconies and decorative arches and are the best preserved examples of Byzantine city houses. On the peak of the hill, Castle Myzithras rears up like an imposing warrior on guard.

It is a bright, sunny May morning. I saunter along narrow streets and pathways and wander through arched lanes. Except for an occasional tour group of Greek seniors, the medieval city lays petrified and still, the silence disturbed only by the trilling of birds, humming of bees, and a faint sound of music echoing up the hillside. Wild flowers bloom everywhere. I feel as if I am on the edge of paradise.

Later, I sit in the courtyard of a monastery savouring the feeling. Gradually, a composition I used to play on my mother’s piano comes to mind: In A Monastery Garden. I realize that this setting with its roses, potted plants, flowering shrubs and burbling fountain is exactly as I used to imagine as a child. Inside the chapel, I sit on one of the little wooden seats along the wall and think of my mother whose presence I have felt all day, and I thank her for guiding my way here.

Sparta Mystras Private Day Tour

If You Go:

Late May, early June is best for wild flowers.
Sparta Museum: 8.30 am – 3.00 pm Tuesday to Saturday. 8.30 am – 2.30 pm Sunday
Mystra site opening times: 8 am to 6 pm (summer) 8 a.m. to 3.30 pm (winter)
There are frequent buses from Sparta.

ACCOMODATION in Mystra (also spelled Mystras or Mistra)
There are small guest houses in Mystra but only one hotel.
Castle View Camping has a swimming pool and good facilities,
Hotels are available in Sparta.

About the author:
It is true that a dream encouraged W. Ruth Kozak to visit this remarkable Byzantine city ruin in the Peloponnese. Her interest in history and archaeology also compelled her go and live in Greece for several years and she now considers it her second home. Ruth advises everyone to ‘follow your dreams’. You never know where they will take you!

All photos are by W. Ruth Kozak.

Away from Home for the Holidays

Athens, Greece

by W. Ruth Kozak

Christmas in 1983 was the first time I had ever spent Christmas away from my family. I couldn’t have been any farther away from Vancouver, Canada than Athens, Greece. It looked as though it would be a dismal time. I had been living in Athens since October and shared a two-bedroom sparsely furnished flat with another woman. We both worked as E.S.L. teachers. What money we earned bought the barest necessities for our flat. I used an upturned drawer to put my typewriter on and bashed out travel stories for newspapers at home. After what we were accustomed to at home, life in Athens was bleak. I made friends with two Irish men, Donald and Barry, who made their living busking on the metro enchanting the Greeks with their Irish songs. They were homeless, and as we had an empty salon, I invited them to stay with us. Donald and Barry became my saviors, cheering me with their Irish humor and lively music.

As Christmas drew near I searched for festive signs around town. Greeks don’t celebrate Christmas the way we do at home. In the shops around Omonia and Kolonaki Square there wasn’t a sign of Rudolph, Frosty or Santa’s helpers. A large tree with lights was erected in Syntagma Square, but I missed the cheery sound of Salvation Army bell-ringers and carolers. Except for those who have adopted the western customs of celebrating the Yule season, Christmas traditions in Greece are different than those at home in North America. Early in December there are celebrations to honor Aghio Nikolaos (St. Nicholas), patron saint of seamen. There are fasting days and a Christmas meal with traditional food. But the Greek’s real festive celebration starts on New Years Eve with a social evening. The men play cards and gamble the night away; the children and families visit other houses to sing ‘kalandas’ accompanied by the chiming of little silver triangles. Santa Claus doesn’t visit on Christmas Eve. Here’s it’s Aghio Vassilis (St. Basil) who comes at New Years with gifts for the children.

I went to the street market where the gypsies sold holly, pine branches and flowers and bought a little laurel bush with shiny green leaves and little wax-like red apples spiked on the ends of the branches. I put it in a flower pot and hung gold garlands on it with three red paper birds for ornaments and a string of tiny colored lights. Soon parcels arrived in the mail and I placed them underneath.

My room-mate’s Greek boyfriend was opening a bar on Christmas Eve in the town of Chalkis on the island of Euboeia and he hired Donald and Barry to play there. The cozy little pub was located near the sea. The opening night was disappointing as very few customers came. There certainly wasn’t a festive spirit.

On Christmas day, we went for a stroll along the waterfront. As we walked, Barry played his guitar. Some seamen called us over so Barry and Donald sang Irish songs for them, and we all joined in singing Christmas carols. We found a little crčche with models of Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus surrounded by live goats and sheep. On our way back to the taverna, we stopped for a meal. The closest thing to turkey we could find was chicken, but it would have to do. At least it was beginning to feel a lot more like Christmas.

That night we sat alone in the empty taverna and reminisced about Christmas at home, describing in detail the turkey dinners we remembered from past Christmas. We imagined the feast our families would be eating that Christmas day, savoring every vicarious mouth-full: the succulent turkey meat, the spicy stuffing, the cranberry jelly, the candied yams, mashed potatoes swimming in gravy, the variety of fresh vegetables and best of all, the delicious aromas that went with the food. We imagined the steaming plum pudding smothered in hot rum sauce, and how we would get the piece with money wrapped up inside. We felt comfort in each other’s company. We were a ‘family’. Because of Donald and Barry, Christmas became special after all, even though we were all so far away from home.

If You Go:

In recent years things have changed in Greece and with the influence of the European community there is more evidence of the Western style Christmas.

Christmas in Greece
Travel guide to Greece

About the author:
That Christmas in Greece was the first time in her life that W. Ruth Kozak had spent Christmas away from her family and friends in Canada. It was a unique experience. But it would have been a lonely time if it hadn’t been for the Irish boys, Barry and Donald, who cheered up the Season with their Irish wit and songs.

Photo Credits:
Athens Christmas decorations by Vouliagmeni / Public domain
Russian icon of Saint Nicholas by The original uploader was CulturalUniverse at English Wikipedia. / CC BY-SA
Madonna and child by Theophanes the Greek / Public domain

Nauplion, the Fortified City

Nafplio, Greece

by W. Ruth Kozak

On my first visit to Nauplion [also spelled Nafplio], in 1978, I recall it only as a dusty little town dominated by an impressive citadel, with a small Venetian fortress out in the Bay. Recently, on a quest to explore Greece‘s medieval past, I decided to return there. What I learned was that Nauplion has been a fortified city since the Bronze Age, and an important part of Greece’s history of the struggle for independence.

I traveled by bus from Athens through scenic countryside and historic places such as ancient Corinth, the Corinth Canal, Argos (with it’s immense Larissa fortress built on the ancient agora of Argos, a conglomeration of Byzantine, Frankish, Venetian and Turkish structures). The bus route passes by ancient Tiryns massive walls dating to the Bronze Age. In the barren mountains nearby is Mycenae (Homer’s “well built Mycenae rich in gold”) where Agammenon’s palace stood.

Located on the Argolic Gulf in the Peloponnese, Nauplion was the capital of Greece after Greek Independence. It has been a major port since the Bronze Age. Right across the Gulf is Argos, where Jason set sail in search of the Golden Fleece. According to one of the many ancient legends, Palamedes of Nauplion joined the expedition of armies who sailed against Troy. Odysseys accused him of being a traitor and he was murdered. For revenge, Palamedes’ father sent his other sons to seduce the wives of the Greek commanders. The plot apparently was successful as only one wife remained faithful to her husband: Penelope, wife of Odysseys. In the 7th century B.C. sided with Sparta against Argos. In retaliation, the King of Argos destroyed Nauplion and made it a naval station for his own city.

Nauplion’s main fortification is the Acronauplia, built by the Romans and Byzantines and later strengthened by a succession of conquerors including the French, Venetians and the Turks. Built on a peninsula, the Acronauplia was protected by a moat and a stronghold with vaulted ceilings and underground passages stocked with explosives. The gates of this citadel were decorated with an Arabian sword which supposedly belong to the first janissary to cross through when the Turks captured the city in 1715. According to legend, the sword dripped blood every Friday, the day the city was invaded.

There are three castles ruins in Nauplion, as well as elegant restored Venetian houses and gracious neo-Classical mansions. The narrow streets are lined with interesting shops and traditional tavernas. A seaside resort, it provides many things of interest to see and do.

The harbour is guarded by the Bourtzi, a small island fortress (left) built by the Venetians. The Venetians called Nauplion “Porto Catena” (the Chain Port) because a heavy iron chain stretched from the tower across the water, anchored in a bastion which was fortified with five cannons. Vessels hoping to enter the harbor had to pass by the chain and were caught in the crossfire. The Bourtzi was used as a fort until 1865 when it became the residence of the executioner.

Nauplion town is built up under the walls of the old Venetian castle, the Akronafplia Fortress, which has walls containing stones from the original Bronze Age citadel. Once the town was completely enclosed within its walls. The fortress was used as a political prison from 1936 – 1956, rather ominous given the starvation, torture and beatings these political prisoners were often subjected to. Now the prison is gone and in its place is a fancy hotel complex. The old town spills down the hillside under the walls. A paved walk skirts the promontory to the pebble beach where there are beach tavernas and accommodations for sun-bathers and swimmers.

Every corner you turn in Nauplion is a photo-opportunity. First I went to the harbour to get a closer look at the Bourtzi, then I walked all around the promontory below the walls of the old castle, toward the beach. It was a blazing hot day but I didn’t let that daunt me, and walked until I was ready to drop before going back to my air conditioned hotel.

That evening I did more exploring by foot and hopped on the little motorized sight-seeing train for a look around the town. The train was full of Greek tourists. Children’s music played a tinkling tune and everyone sang along. It was fun, and a good way to see around the town.

Later, at a cozy traditional taverna near my hotel I enjoyed a delicious meal: kalamarakia (squid) that melted in my mouth they were so fresh; patatas fourno (potatoes baked in the oven with cheese); horta (wild greens) and a bottle of very good retsina. All for 14 Euro.

The next morning I caught a taxi up to the imposing fortress of the Palamidi, named for Palamedes of the legend. The fortress is on a 216 m. high outcrop of rock overlooking the town. There are 1000 steps leading up to the gates. In spite of the heat a troop of people—men, women wearing high heel shoes and children, were making the arduous climb.

Within the citadel walls are three separate Venetian fortresses built between 1711 and 1714 but seized by the Turks shortly afterwards. Above the gates is the Venetian emblem of the Lion of St. Mark. This stone emblem appears in various places around the walls of the old castle too. During the War of Independence against the Turks, under the leadership of the venerable “klepht” (mountain fighter) Theodoros Kolokotronis (left), the citadel was besieged and finally won. Kolokotronis is said to have ridden his horse up the steep slopes of the Palamidi to celebrate his victory. One of the bastions is called “Kolokotroni’s prison” because he was later imprisoned there after being charged with treason in 1834. He was later pardoned and died in Athens in 1842.

I wandered around the spooky cell blocks, cave-like stone rooms with barred windows. Some of the smaller cells still had the iron rails on the walls were prisoners were chained. I wondered how many souls had perished there, or languished away their lives, and how many men had been jammed into each of those stone caves.

I followed the cobbled paths and climbed on the crumbling walls for hours before making the descent, inching my way down the steep, slippery stairs.

By then it was time to leave Nauplion. I hadn’t seen the museums, nor did I take the small boat out to the Bourtzi. That would have to wait for another visit. I had seen what I came to see, an important part of Greece’s historical past.

Private Walking Tour in Nafplio

If You Go:

Buses run several times a day from Athens.
Accommodations: There are few budget hotels in the old town, but many available in the main part of the port. Several camp sites are nearby.
The Palamidi Fortress: Open daily 8 – 6:45 (summer) and 8 – 5 (winter) Admission: 2.35 Euro.
The Akronaplia Fortress: There is a lift up from the western edge of town.
The Bourtzi: Boats leave from the town provided there are at least 4 passengers. 1.50 Euro.

Argolida Private Tour: Mycenae, Nafplio and Epidaurus Day Trip from Athens

An exciting exploration of Peloponnese at ancient Corinth, Mycenae and Nafplio

Nafplio City Tour

About the author:
W. Ruth Kozak started visiting Greece in 1979. She lived there for several years and is a frequent visitor who considers Greece her second home. She’s lived on both Vironos (Byron’s) St. and Kolokotroni St. in Athens and combines her research field trips about Greek history and culture with her travel writing. You can read more of Ruth’s travel adventures on her blog:
www.travelthroughhistory.blogspot.com

Photo Credits:
First Nafplio photo by: Jeanhousen / CC BY
All other photos are by W. Ruth Kozak

Hiking the Samaria Gorge

A Sensory Experience in Crete, Greece

by Lindsay Soberano-Wilson

From the moment I reached the threshold of the trail leading through the Samaria Gorge, on Crete, I became acutely aware of the limitations of conveying my experience in text or on film. The sheer magnitude of this landscape is impossible to capture in a photo or even in words. And yet my camera lens was resilient when it came to struggling to capture the pristine vistas or vivid colours of the floral and fauna. To taste this sublime experience you must stand before the Iron Gates (the narrowest part of the gorge), smell the pure air, or drink from the natural spring. A hike in the Samaria Gorge awakens the senses.

My base for the day-long hike was the town of Hania in Western Crete, which boasts a romantic Venetian port. I embarked on the 7:30am bus to the Samaria Gorge in the White Mountains (forty-four kilometers south of Hania), a trek of a sixteen kilometer trail. The Gorge officially became the National Park of Samaria in 1962. Between May to October it attracts thousands of visitors a day.

The Gorge is situated below the Omalos Plateau with a river flowing between the peaks of Volakias (2147m) and Avlimaniko (1858m). The width of the entire gorge ranges from 150m to 3m. The famous Iron Gates is the narrowest width of the gorge (three meters). Though the trail is sixteen kilometers, concluding at the shores of the Libyan sea in the quaint town of Agia Roumeli, the walk through the National Park of Samaria is thirteen kilometers, plus an extra three k. walk to Agia Roumeli. But experiencing the Samaria Gorge is not only about the trail: it is also about the scenery, wildlife and the many perks at the end of the long hike.

Before I embarked on the hike I made sure that I was armed with the necessities. Besides the obvious items, such as sunscreen and a hat, I had a packed lunch (the only places to buy food are at either entrance), and a bottle of water (the first rest stop and spring is 1.7 km into the trail.) While 1.7 km may not seem that long, the beginning is the most difficult part of the trail, as it is downhill and the terrain is slippery due to smooth stones. Consequently, running shoes or hiking boots are essential. The hike takes anywhere from three to eight hours to complete depending on your pace. I considered myself fairly fit and the hike took me seven hours to complete.

I began the trail at approximately 9:00 am entering the trail through the “Xyloskala” (wooden staircase) entrance. My pace became slowed when I realized that everywhere I turned was an opportunity for a fabulous picture. The fresh, crisp morning air kept me moving down the two kilometer steep and winding stone path, the most heavily shaded part of the trail.

Most hikers enter the trail through “Xyloskala” and travel from north to south. Hiking in this direction consists largely of descending steps and somewhat leveled surfaces. As a result, hikers seeking more of a challenge enter the path from the opposite direction. Though there is no avoiding the countless steps over the river, either by stepping-stones, wooden bridges or planks.

During the hike I was overwhelmed by the natural world: mountains, cliffs, trees, the river, springs, flora and fauna and wildlife surrounded me. It is difficult to describe just how lush and vibrant the Samaria Gorge really is. I felt as though I had suddenly walked into a Group of Seven painting, even though I was in Greece. When I was there in early June the entire trail was draped in vibrant pink oleanders.

The hike through the Samaria Gorge is not only perfect in beauty, but also because it is home to a large number of endangered species. The Cretan wild goat and the “Kri-Kri” (Ibex) are among them. In fact, the gorge was developed into a national park in order to save the Kri-Kri from extinction and to preserve its rare flora and fauna. At that time the inhabitants of the Samaria village who consisted of a few families of woodcutters were relocated. Just south of the abandoned settlement, which is halfway through the gorge, is the small 14th century Byzantine church of Saint Maria of Egypt. Apparently, “Samaria” derives from the Greek phrase “Osia Maria” (Sacred Mary). If you wish to sneak a glance of the Kri-Kri, it is best to avoid the tourist rush, since they are shy. The trick is to arrive as early as possible (the first buses usually arrive at 8am).

Remarkably, despite the large number of people who frequent the park, it is clean. There are mountain rangers by the rest stops and a medic on site for your safety. There are also springs where I filled my bottle with fresh drinking water. I never tasted better or cheaper bottled water in my life.

Though my primary goal was to reach the end, I also had one other landmark in mind: the Iron Gates. Once I reached this destination, not only was I eleven kilometers into the hike, but I was also facing one of the world’s most photographed landscapes. The Iron Gates is the narrowest part of the gorge, where two mountains hold all but three kilometers of space in between them at a height of 600 meters. I felt as though I was in a scene from some epic journey. I finally knew what it meant to deem something as sublime. Once I reached that point I knew that it was not much longer until the exit (only two kilometers to go)—or so I thought.

I did not reach the park exit until 3:30 pm. Perhaps my frequent rest stops and photo ops did not help my time. Still, I did not consider the hike to be difficult, rather more like a test of endurance than strength. What I didn’t know was that there was still a three kilometer path up ahead that lead to Agia Roumeli. Although the last portion of the walk was challenging, as there was no shade, and I was at the end of my energy, I pushed myself because I knew that there was plenty of gold at the end of this rainbow. In fact, the thing that makes this hike a unique experience is that there is more than one reward: upon the completion of the hike not only did I feel a sense of accomplishment, but also I had the Libyan Sea to cool off in, the seaside town of Agia Roumeli to explore, and a ferry ride from Agia Roumeli to Hora Sfakion where I took a bus back to Hania. It truly was an exciting sensory adventure.

Full Day Tour to Samaria Gorge

If You Go:

Gorge Info: The complete guide to the gorge of Samaria
– Buses to Omalos from Chania leave every morning from 7.30 to 11:00 am.
– Taxis from Chania to Omalos, 40 Euro (for 4 people)
– Entrance to the park: 5 Euro (children under 15 free, half price for students)
– The gorge is only open during the day. Guards check tickets to make sure nobody is in the park overnight.
– Start the hike early, at dawn. If you start after 12 noon you will have to spend the night in Aghia Roumeli.
– From Aghia Roumeli, boat service takes you to Hora Sfakion and from there get a bus back to Chania.
– Best time to go: Spring is ideal. Mid-summer can be far too hot. The gorge usually closes from mid to late October.

Samaria Gorge Tours Now Available:

Full Day Samaria Gorge 10-Mile Walking Tour from Chania

Samaria Gorge Small-Group Hiking Day Trip from Chania

Samaria Gorge Tour from Chania – The Longest Gorge in Europe

About the author:
Lindsay Soberano-Wilson holds a Bachelors of Arts degree in English and Creative Writing from Concordia University and a Masters of Arts degree in English from the University of Toronto. Her poetry, fiction, and non-fiction have been published in various Canadian publications, such as The Jewish Tribune, The Canadian Jewish News, Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, Running with Scissors, Canadian Woman Studies Journal, and Yalla Journal. She teaches high school English and Drama in Toronto.

Photo credits:
First Samaria Gorge image by Tina Bierhoff from Pixabay
All other photos are by Lindsay Soberano-Wilson.