Heraklion in Crete was our first stop on our Greek adventure. Our friend John (aka Country lawyer) decided to come with us on the first half of our trip. After a raucous night out with Leo's coworkers...with too many shots of whiskey consumed...we hopped on a train the next bleary-eyed day to Gatwick airport where we sat around getting antsy, since we are the only people that still get to the airport in the prescribed "2 hours before your flight departs". A couple of pints and some lunch later, we were on our way aboard a very comfortable EasyJet flight (which is a very budget airline for those of you who don't know) which had leather seats, plenty of leg room, and they even showed a movie (the latest Indiana Jones, which I don't recommend to anyone). We got in to Heraklion around 10 pm, dropped off our stuff at the Hotel Rea and headed for Lion's Square, which we were informed had many bars, restaurants, and souvlaki shops. Seated at a souvlaki shop, with some food, and beers, we toasted to the Mediterranean lifestyle and began our vacation.
The next day consisted of walking around the city, which we found out was actually rather small, since we kept finding ourselves back at the same locations time and time again. We also went searching for the Archaeological Museum, which on that day, we weren't able to find. The main problem is that maps in guidebooks never actually list all of the street names and never show you things like elevation, which was necessary in Heraklion since it is quite hilly in parts. And Heraklion suffers from a lack of street signs, so the entire time we were there we were utterly lost. We did wander into a portion of the agora (the market) where we found a small taverna which served mainly fish...and where we had our first amazing Greek meal. We didn't really know what we were ordering and relied upon the help of the waitress, who I guess, seeing that we were Americans, decided we could eat a great quantity of food. A large plate of fresh fried calamari, a huge Greek salad, then three whole grilled mackerels (we had thought we'd be getting three small sardine-like fish to share) arrived in front of us.
But we managed to eat it all!
The next day we thought we'd head a bit out of the city to see the ruins of Knossos, where King Minos lived and where the stories of the labyrinth and the Minotaur were born. Again, due to lack of street signs, winding roads, and out of date guidebook information, we spent a long time looking for the bus to take us out to the site. Eventually, Leo found someone to ask for directions, and thanks to his awesome language skills, we found the bus and got to Knossos. The site is quite big and full of pushy tour groups, but we still enjoyed ourselves. The reconstructed parts of Knossos really do help you get a sense of what it might have looked like (so three cheers for Sir Aurthur Evans).
Once back in the city, we took a bit of a siesta, then reconvened for some drinks, followed by a few more drinks in our favorite Heraklion dive bar...Route 66 (I think we went there every night we were there). The place played mainly classic rock music, and the occasionally cheesy 80s ballad, and was full of young Cretan, rather than German tourists (who were everywhere else). We were sitting there playing cards and drinking ouzo, when we struck up a conversation with a guy from Athens, who was stationed in Crete for his compulsory service in the Army.
He shared some freshly brined olives with us, and we bought another round of ouzo, and spent the night discussing politics and the workings of the world.
The next morning, we took a bus to the south of Crete, to the beach at Matala. The drive across the island was beautiful and quite frightening (with tons of narrow roads along the mountains, with drop-offs below filled with car parts). The beach at Matala was equally as impressive as the drive.
The beach is in a bay, surrounded by cliffs on either side, full of wind-carved caves. The caves were originally Roman tombs, but in the 60s, they were inhabited by hippies (including Cat Stevens and Joni Mitchell) looking to live in a beautiful place but not pay for it.
We came back from our day at the beach sun burned, exhausted, and looking forward to our next day's adventure...Santorini.
Since the shops, restaurants, and hotels are built along the cliff, the entrances off of the main street are often just doors looking out to the sea with steps leading downward. Leo led us on a death march along the main street, which we found actually connected separate towns...we saw three of them by the end of our hike. We hiked through Fira, then Firostefani, and then Imerovigli. 
The views were incredible and we marveled at how low the walls were which overlooked the cliffs that descended into the ocean (in the US there would probably be much higher walls, someone guarding them, and signs everywhere telling you to stand back and be safe). As walked...and walked...and walked, we passed by swanky hotels, pretty people sitting at pool bars, churches, rundown house, and finally we came upon this sad donkey, which appeared to live in a cave. 
Feeling much like the tired donkey, we headed back in the direction of Fira with the hopes of finding a cute little bar we had passed at some point in our walk. Luckily for Leo and John, I have a much better sense of direction than they do, so we were actually able to find the place. 
We had a drink outside overlooking the water, then headed inside 
to talk to Mario, the bartender, who gave us some free drinks, taught us about Santorini wines, told us all about the island and printed out a map for us of the places we should see and where were should eat. He also gave us an itinerary for Athens, which we would hit later on in the trip, since he is from there. After two bottles of wine, a few rounds of cards, and an interesting conversation with an American staying at the attached upscale hotel about politics, we headed to one of the restaurants Mario suggested and had yet another amazing meal.
