The Muses and The Sirens. Diaries part 17.

 Continuing my diary from 1990/91

Most weeks during the winter I would catch the bus to Hania and pass a day there, walking along the harbour and exploring the old town. Each time I went I deliberately ventured up a road I had never walked up before and found many delights, an old Venetian house, a tiny back street shop selling home made liqueurs, or perhaps a few metres fenced off containing old Minoan excavations.

One day in early spring, as I was waiting for the bus at Georgioupolis a taxi pulled up,

“Sorry I’m waiting for the bus, I can’t afford to take a taxi.”

“How much is the bus?”

I told him.

“I’m going to Hania anyway. I’ll take you for the price of the bus.”

“Fair enough.”

As we travelled along the road to Hania we could see, up on the headland, the old fort at Aptera. It had been a Minoan site, later Roman and then Turkish. There were still remains from all eras.
“Have you ever visited Aptera?” The taxi driver asked me.

“No not yet.”

“Would you like to go now? No extra charge, it’s not far.”

I pondered for a few moments, “I have an appointment in Hania, and somebody will be waiting for me.” I didn’t, but I wanted him to think so. I had learned to be wary, though this man seemed genuine enough and here in Crete this sort of adventure was becoming normal.

“That’s ok, I’ll just drive you up, you can see the view and I’ll get you to town in time for your appointment." I decided to risk it. After all it was, even in winter, a popular tourist destination and there were likely to be other people around.

The view across the bay was tremendous; it was obvious why so many generations had used this site as a lookout post.

Having told the taxi driver I had a previous engagement, I couldn’t spent time to explore as I would like to have done and we were soon winging our way to Hania once again.

“Do you know why it is called Aptera?” he asked me.

“No idea.”

“Well, ‘ptera’ means wings and ‘a-ptera’ means without wings.” He began, “You understand?”

“Oh yes, like pterodactyl’ I agreed

“Quite so. Lipon,-well-, the Muses and the Sirens, you’ve heard of them?”

“Yes.” I confirmed

“The Muses and the Sirens had a singing competition. When the Sirens won, the Muses flew away, but they lost their wings and fell into the water, over there, where the small islands are now.” He gestured across the entrance to the harbour. “The place was named Aptera after them.”

“I learn something every day. I had never heard that story before.”

“Crete has a lot of history.”

“It certainly has. You seem to know a lot about it.”

“I’ve always been interested in history. I would have liked to have gone to university but my parents couldn’t afford it. I’m hoping my daughter will go. She’s just waiting to hear about her exam results.”

By this time we were pulling up outside the market place- the Agora-

“Thank you for such an interesting journey. Much better than the bus. I hope your daughter gets to university”

“Thank you. Enjoy your day in town.”

I made my way to a small cafeteria for a cup of coffee. It was becoming another interesting day. No day was without its surprises here on Crete, one was never quite sure what might happen.