I should mention that since I went to Medumi on a sunny day before Crete, and didn't put on any sunscreen, I already got a little tan back in Latvia. And even managed to get scared that I got sunburned. (Yes, I'm easily spooked like that). Fortunately, it turned out not to be the case, though it was a close call. So in Crete, I was triply cautious — I don't tan well, and the fierce southern sun would have burned me to a crisp if not for the Sun Ozon sunscreen. I was told to buy a more expensive one, which I did, but spare me from getting Nivea — it costs some completely crazy money. So I compensated for the unknown brand with the protection factor — it was a whopping 30. I know 50 exists, but I couldn't find it back home. It is sold in Crete, but as it turned out, 30 is still enough for all occasions, unless you are a redhead lying right under the sun all day without an umbrella. By the way, on the unforgettable Euronews, they said that the current classification system is flawed — like, there are two types of ultraviolet rays, but only one number on the bottle. But that's not scary anymore — the terrifying EU bureaucratic machine has already churned out directives stating that there must be two numbers on bottles, and roaming SMS should cost no more than 11 eurocents. It's useful to watch Euronews and pleasant to live in Europe, which takes care of us, even if a bit intrusively at times.
Having properly slathered ourselves in sunscreen, we finally decided to head to the nearby village called Kavros. To do this, I asked a short, elderly man in glasses if he spoke English. The man, as it turned out later, seemed to be the hotel manager; at least he was always walking around everywhere overseeing if everything was in order. He informed me that the nearest village was 500 meters to the right. Usually, I get tense talking to strangers, and in English on top of that, but in Crete, I got a taste for this activity and started asking everyone about everything. So we boldly set off along the path to the right — as it turned out, you could get into Kavros village by walking through a tunnel under the national highway.
I just realized that I still haven't shown a detailed map of Crete. Correcting my mistake. Click to open a larger version.
After a fairly short time, we reached the destination of our hike. Basically, the national highway runs along the entire northern coast, which is why there are many hotels on the shore. But in our area, they were literally back-to-back, so the village is full of tavernas, rental offices, and shops. There's even a British Petroleum gas station.
In the village, we went into a shop, bought bucket hats (me too), postcards, and stamps, and for some reason, one was 67 cents and the other was 3 cents. Interesting system. When we were buying them, we signed them right in the store on the shelf using an unpurchased pen. As a relatively law-abiding person, I don't like doing that, but the saleswomen didn't care. At that time, I hadn't yet figured out the main traits of the Cretan mentality, but I was already starting to understand them a little. Remember the dude who was let go by the police, the abandoned suitcases in the lobby, the wide-open doors in the air-conditioned room, and the water dripping from the hose above?
So, all of this can be called "total chill." Cretans, like probably most southerners, exist in a state of permanent chill. Very little bothers them. Olives grow, tourists come, the sun shines, why stress? That's why, no matter how wild it might seem to you, Cretans never guard anything. See the mountains of valuable ceramics in the photo above? There's not a soul around, and the seller is deep inside the building, and couldn't care less if someone nicks something or breaks it. Who knows, probably because the local thieves are just as chill as he is, and Western tourists are mostly very civilized, careful, and law-abiding. Security cameras are occasionally seen, but not all that often.
The crime rate in Crete is simply unrealistically low. Nobody ever guards anything in the shops, as I've already shown. As for the chillness, it's in everything, I'll show many more examples of it. From what I haven't seen myself but was told by Rambo: nobody really obeys traffic signs, they even drive under "do not enter" signs, they speed sometimes by up to 30 km/h, at least on the national highway where there's no risk of falling off a mountain.
About the manure — we have this theory that they pasture the sheep until they eat all the available vegetation and completely shit up the entire field. And then, on the richly fertilized soil, they can plant valuable commercial crops.
Here I should mention that we were promised rooms with a sea view: one partial (ours), the other full (Tanya and Sergey's). As a result, however, a bit of a mishap occurred.
From ours, even though it was located further away, things were a bit more cheerful, except for the fact that dirty-brown sheep were grazing right opposite us. In principle, I love nature, and therefore I'd recommend the hotel owners advertise the room just like that. "Eco-room with a sheep view". The sheep, by the way, were eating some incredibly unappetizing-looking grass of the exact same dirty-brown color as they were.
I wouldn't be able to do that. Luckily, I didn't have to. But what I drank, you'll only find out in the next episode, and what I ate — in the one after that.