Today was one of those days that my dear old dad would have described as ‘glorious.’ A cloudless sky, very little wind, and a temperature of around 19-20ºC made it the kind of day that makes us truly love the winter months here on Crete. Not every day’s like this, of course but, to our delight, plenty enough are, because it’s the kind of weather that means you can get out and about without worrying about getting so, so hot and sweaty that you want to hide from the fierceness of the burning sun, as is the case in the summer months. No, today was perfect outdoor weather. So out we went.

I’d recently seen a photo that intrigued me on one of the local Facebook groups for this area. It showed a gorge that was truly spectacular and I was very excited to read that it was less than half an hour away from our front door. All we needed was the right day to go and explore it, and today was that day.

The gorge is called Sarakinas, and it’s situated up in the hills not far above the village of Myrtos, on the coast west of Ierapetra. Head up the road towards Viannou and only a few hundred metres up you’ll see a sign on the right for the village of Mythi. Follow the twisty-turny road to the village, then, once you reach it, there is a sign telling you which way to the gorge, or ‘canyon’ as the sign says. That’s only part of the story though, because you’ll soon arrive at a crossroads where, guess what, there is no sign telling you which way to go now.

As it happened, right beside the road on your left at that junction there’s a modest little café/bar, and emerging from among the few tables was a wizened old guy who looked like a werewolf who’d been drawing his pension for about a century or so. He was about to cross the narrow road in front of us with his walking frame (his ‘pi’ as the Greeks call them), so I opened my door and called out to him, asking him if he knew the right road to take in order to reach the canyon, the Greek word for which is ‘ferangi.’

He seemed delighted that I’d chosen to ask him, and enthusiastically pointed, precariously taking one hand off his frame, to indicate that we were to turn right, and it was only about another kilometre or so to the gorge, where there is a modest parking area. Off we went.

Mythi village, by the way, seemed to us to be quite well kept, with a couple of bars and a taverna or two. Many of the houses looked far too smart to be owned by locals, and so we got the impression that there was possibly a high percentage of foreigners who either lived there, or owned properties that were in all probability rented out via AirBnB or the like. Since it’s only five minutes by road from Myrtos, that figured. I’d imagine that it’s a much less sleepy community in the summertime.

Anyway, it’s easy enough to get to the gorge’s southernmost entry point, which isn’t all that attractive since there’s a large concrete installation right beside the car park, where the sound of water pumps humming is pretty loud. Don’t let that put you off though. Take the walking path that ascends to the left of the pumping station and you’ll soon pass a pretty little taverna above and to the left where the owner was chainsawing logs as we passed and confirmed that we were heading in the right direction for the gorge. In very short order, this is what you’re confronted with…

As you can see from the third of those photos, the path soon peters out and you have to set off on a stony slope (photo 4) down to the dried riverbed, where, as long as you persevere, you’ll soon be rewarded with this…

The ones in the above gallery where Yvonne is in shot give you an idea of the scale of what you’re walking through. Oh yes, it’s impressive all right. We eventually reach the point where, in order to negotiate your way to the upper part of the gorge, you need to become a mountaineer, so we called it a halt there, as those last two photos show above.

Heading back, we were soon descending the path beside the little taverna, just metres above the car park again…

And, not many minutes later, we were strolling along Myrtos seafront, which is very different at this time of the year from how it appears to the tourist during the summer…

If you do find yourselves in our neck of the woods this coming summer, I’d highly recommend a visit to the Sarakinas Gorge, although it’s not for anyone who’s not too steady on their feet, or hasn’t got a sturdy pair of walking boots with them. It would be the height of folly to attempt it in flip flops, OK? You have been warned.

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