Sunday in Hora Sfakion, our final day in Crete. We stopped here overnight on our coastal walk and liked the look of this tiny port and decided then, if we had time, to return and end our journey here. It's a place of transit between ferries and buses, unpretentious and mundane compared to the lotus-eating lure of Paleochora, a soundtrack of goatbells and birdsong on the beach rather than '70s songs - real Eagles, in fact: they circle above our balcony and the crag martins hawk for flies below.
We took the Selino ferry here, 3 hours standing on deck watching the coastal paths and beaches we'd climbed and plodded go drifting by, and came back to Mesohori taverna,the best value accomodation of our entire trip. From his table under the vine Yorgos waved as though we'd never been away and gave us our old room.



Temperatures are up in the high 20s now so we've enjoyed a wind-down week, still walking and discovering - the Imbros gorge, and the deserted ruins of old Sfakia high on the hillside, the frescos of the bombed church still frailly visible - as well as beach days of swimming and play. Tomorrow morning we go directly to the airport and culture-shock. And home.