Goodbye Frangokastello (Greek: Φραγκοκάστελλο)

July 15, 2012

I am sitting in the Chania Airport waiting for our flight to Pisa. We started the morning at our hotel in Frangokastello. We drove from the south side of Crete to the north to arrive at the airport. Yesterday was the day of three beaches and today is the day of three monasteries. The first one had a ceremony going on with balloons and a wooden cartoon pirate holding the balloons on each side of the door to the church. There were 30 people, with gifts waiting for the ceremony. A young girl, about seven, was the cause for the celebration. She had glitter in her hair. 

The monastery itself was lovely, partially in ruin and partially in good shape. I did see the guests who were waiting, smoking and putting their cigarette butts in the plants and small aqueduct. I was horrified. The smoking in Greece was very widespread and there are no restrictions at all. It made me crazy, because often I was the only person who was not smoking. Cigarette butts were everywhere, except on the beaches. Californians are really extreme compared to the rest of the world, when it comes to our smoking rules.

The next monastery, about 10 kilometers from the first, was large and had a big business of olive oil, honey, raki and wine. The land surrounding the monastery was a vineyard, olive orchard and lots of bee hives.  No photos were allowed inside, but it had a fantastically ornate church and lovely courtyards. The third monastery was much smaller, undergoing restoration, but was on a high remote hill overlooking the sea. Pictures were not allowed. 

We got to the airport in plenty of time to return our car. When we returned our car, it appears someone tried to break in and there was damage to the lock, so we got charged an extra 356 Euros, more than twice as much as we paid for the car!

We arrived at Dada’s home at midnight. Our plane was late, we took the bus from Pisa to Florence, then another local bus. We were planning to take another bus, but because it was Sunday and so late, there were no more busses…so we walked. It took about 40 minutes to get to Dada’s house. We walked by a ruin of a Roman bath in her neighborhood. When we got to her house she made pasta with garlic and olive oil for a midnight supper in the garden. We also had iced red wine. How can such a simple dinner be so perfect?