Xenia Beach, Karteros, Crete

“Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go.”
John Denver
I’m going to miss this place, today is my last day on the island so after breakfast at Kritikos Fournos – if you ever visit Crete this place is a must – I have to at least visit the local beach to pay my respects. There’s a broadcast service (speakers mounted on the outside wall) from the Greek Orthodox church next door – a baptism I think, first time I’ve seen any signs of activity around it. A short walk to Karteros Beach, past the derelict, graffiti covered hulk of the Xenia Motel to Xenia Beach, which looks like home to Robinson Crusoe. There’s a very homely looking settee with a deckchair and various other bits of furniture gathered under a canvas canopy and a car parked nearby. Nearby is a caravan and car, both looking like they’ve been there for years without moving, the undergrowth is growing up around them. Beyond is Karteros Beach, beds and umbrellas neatly laid out waiting for business, it’s only about 10am and the morning cloud hasn’t fully cleared so no takers yet. I saunter back to complete my packing and order a taxi, this monkey has learned lots of new tricks on this holiday, including online taxis and excursions through a smartphone. Checkout time is 11am, by which time I’m at the nearby airport, planes were clearly visible coming in to land from my apartment, although never a noise problem. The bag drop was open early so I ditched my suitcase and settled down to a couple of hours reading Eleven Minutes, started on Rhodes but not yet finished. Even in the airport the salami baguettes are delicious and fresh, so I won’t go hungry. About four hours flying time and back at Heathrow before dark. Unfortunately my hotel isn’t on the shuttle bus route so it’s £45 by taxi – only £7 from the hotel so I won’t get caught out like that again. Fortunately it’s still fairly warm back home, so I don’t freeze immediately. A few hours drive back so I thought I’d have a break for a coffee along the way, unfortunately M4 ‘dis-services’ at Membury have closed up for the night just after 10pm when I arrived, no Costa for me; Greggs to the rescue in the petrol service area, home before the witching hour and tucked up in bed to reflect on my ‘adventures’.