We reached Heraklion, spotted a sign for the Knossos Palace with some difficulty, and turned toward it. It turned out to be close by, and on our approach, a local started waving his arms at us, inviting us into a parking lot. The parking lot turned out to be paid, but it had a toilet and a drinking water dispenser (not a fountain like in the US and Arkadi, but one with cups, like in an office, so I wasn't lying in the last post). Then the guy showed us which way to go to the palace (about 100 meters). Along the way, we came across several more paid parking lots, and right by the palace itself — there seemed to be a free one. So this is a cute little scam the Cretans pull. We aren't mad, especially since the parking was cheap, and hey, it had amenities.
All photos are by Rambo, except the one with my copyright in the corner.
As for the palace, it was built in 1700-1400 BC. Just think about it! Almost four thousand years ago. Despite this, both the palace itself and the frescoes inside it look pretty decent. I, of course, mean the architecture, not the condition, even though the Cretans have recreated a significant portion of the palace from the ruins to attract tourists.
When we approached the palace, we saw a massive line. I walked closer to the ticket booths to figure out if we needed to stand in it. Somehow the rest of the group quickly ended up there too, and a moment later Tanya was already buying tickets. Just pure magic.
There's really nothing more to write about the palace. I liked it, at least there's something to look at: both ruins and intact parts, and even frescoes. They do say, though, that the frescoes are copies, and the originals are in museums.
Life is everywhere! (see under the grate)
On our way back, we bought some figs from a little old lady along the road at extortionate prices. Then again, prices on Crete for everything are not joyful — like ours, if not higher. The fig looked unappetizing, tasted mediocre, too many seeds. I ate a piece and a half, Andrey had half, the rest chilled in the fridge for a couple of days and got thrown out. By the way, when we popped into a shop to gawk at souvenirs, the lady advised us to get water from the fridge inside, because the fridge outside was sitting right in the sun. But we were being cheap, and didn't buy anything, since, as you remember, the water at the parking lot was free. In general, I like Cretan ceramics, and I would have bought some — but why do I need dust collectors? There's no one in particular to gift them to either.
Anyway, we left the palace and headed to Heraklion. First of all, we had to find parking, which isn't that simple, considering the influx of tourists in season and the narrowness of the streets. In the end, we left the car at a paid parking lot of the architecture (or history?) museum — good thing we found even that. At first we wanted to ditch it on the shoulder of the road, because locals park there, but then we figured out that they all had parking tickets on their windshields. Moreover, apparently, not from today and not even for this place. That is, if I understood correctly, a penalty receipt serves them as a universal parking pass — put it on the windshield, and go for a walk, hoping that the inspector won't bother checking the date and place.
I should mention that 137 thousand people live in Heraklion, it is the fourth largest city in Greece, and its airport is named after the most famous Greek writer Nikos Kazantzakis, and is the second largest in Greece by number of flights.
As for the writer, his grave bears the epitaph: "I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free." Sounds great, even if the thought isn't new. In principle, considering that he died of leukemia, he really had nothing to hope for. Nothing to fear either — because he was an atheist (albeit a "searching" one), and so the church forbade burying him in a cemetery or anywhere within the city limits. He rests outside the city wall of Heraklion, because he was a Cretan. And his book "The Last Temptation of Christ" is included by the Catholic Church in the index of forbidden books. It, by the way, is available in these internets of yours in Russian, unlike the others, so maybe I'll try to read it.
Let's continue about the city. Heraklion was founded by the Saracens in 824 AD, who by that time had taken Crete from the Byzantines, as I already wrote in the post about Chania. The Arabs allowed pirates to repair and restock in the city, so they could attack the ships of the Byzantine Empire fully armed. In 961 the Byzantines got sick of this, and after a long siege, they razed the city to the ground, left not a single stone unturned, and slaughtered all the Saracens. But the location was a good one, so they rebuilt everything anew and ruled for another 243 years.
By that time, our old acquaintances, the Venetians, had already successfully snatched up Chania and were looking for new real estate to sink their dough into. Therefore, it was a sin not to take advantage of the turmoil and the need of the deposed Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos to ascend the throne again. For dragging the emperor, who had already been blinded by his enemies by that time, out of the dungeon and putting him on the throne, the Venetians got themselves the city, which they named Candia.
Then, naturally, the Ottoman Turks arrived, who were already mentioned in the story about Chania. The Turks, being fans of deathmatches and headshots, besieged the island for 22 years, which ultimately led to the death of 70 thousand of their troops and 67 – of ours, meaning Cretans and sympathizers. So if anyone says that the Turks should be accepted into the EU, think twice. There was endless slaughter in Europe too, but our bloodsuckers are at least our own, homegrown, civilized and secular, and not Muslim religious fanatics, which the Turks remain to this day.
There was an excellent, funny and powerful text here, but the client ate it. A damn shame. In any case, it all ended with the fact that in 1898 the then superpowers Russia, England, France and Italy, in spite of the Ottoman Empire, created an independent Cretan state, and in 1913 the island finally joined Greece.