Although rain had been predicted, we woke to sunny skies, and ate our breakfast on the balcony. While we were eating, though, the skies opened and a deluge came down. The overhanging roof sheltered most of our balcony, including the chairs and table where we sat, so we stayed where we were. No wasps came to trouble us, although, as we were finishing, a single scout came by to check out our honey and jam.

The rain was over before we were ready to go out, which wasn’t until noon or a little after when we went to a bank to replenish our cash supply. As usual, we talked to an officer before putting the card in the ATM, to make sure it could be retrieved in the event of misfortune. The officer had very little English, but Dorothea managed to explain our problem to her, despite difficulties with the necessary technical vocabulary, and we got the reassurance we needed. Fortunately, the bad experience we’d had at the airport was never repeated, and the transaction was completed successfully, like all the others except the first.
Alt Tag
As on the previous day, we walked up the waterfront towards the hotel and this time decided to try a tavérna near the Sitía Beach named the Cretan House. Like the Sitía Beach, it had facilities on both sides of the road, though they were a little larger. The outdoor part, shown in the picture, is where we ate.

The Cretan House defined itself as a traditional tavérna and had an extensive menu. Everything we tried was good. We started with a shared order of lachanopitákia—fried pies filled with greens—after which I ordered a dish named melitzánes fournélo. According to the dictionary, this means ‘eggplants [à la] griddle’—or alternatively ‘eggplants [à la] blasting charge,’ since the second word seems to have that meaning in contexts having to do with mining—but the server explained that it meant the eggplant was baked in a roof-tile. (Perhaps this name was based on a specifically Cretan meaning of the apparently versatile term fournélo.) Besides the eggplant, it was rich with cheese and bacon. Dorothea had gyro with fried pita bread (slightly flavored with oregano and olive oil), tsatsíki, and french fries. We were both well pleased with these dishes, which we had with a half liter bottle of Ekávi retsina, the same that Níkos served in Káto Zákros.
Rainbow on Sitía Bay
We got back to the hotel at about 3:30, and settled our bill with Eric, since Yiánni was going to pick us up very early the next morning to take us to the airport. After a pleasant conversation with Eric about where we had been in Crete, we went upstairs, where after a rest we backed up our photos and packed everything we weren’t going to need before leaving. At one point during this time it rained briefly but gently, and our balcony view of the bay was graced by this rainbow.

We were ready for dinner at the scandalously early hour of 7:00, and walked down the street for a return encounter with the Sitía Beach tavérna.
Sitía Beach ad
The same waitress greeted us, and we began with the same spinach-rocket-parmesan salad we’d had for lunch the previous day. Then I ordered pork souvláki—it was the first souvláki I’d eaten on the trip. Dorothea had ordered it at a couple of places, though when she tried mine she judged it tenderer than the ones she’d had. Tonight, though, she ordered keftedákia (meatballs or—to translate with unnecessary precision—small meatballs) and rice.

Eric and his mother happened past and saw us eating. They knew we were going to leave too early to see them the next morning, so they came in to say goodbye. There were warm feelings all around.

Dorothea also had quite a long conversation with our waitress, who was curious to know about her family and where we live. Dorothea enjoyed the challenge of conversing in Greek, and learned that the waitress had relatives in Boston. When it was dessert time, we were presented with the largest carafe of rakí that we’d been offered on the trip, and also the largest dessert: five filo pastries. It was a great final dinner in Crete. (Not in Greece, because we had one more day to spend in Athens before our flight back to Boston.)

Back at the hotel, we took showers and went to bed, with the alarm set to wake us for departure at 5:50am. Our plane—the only flight to Athens, which goes every other day—was due to take off at 7 am. It would land in Athens less than an hour later, and we could easily have made our plane home, if it had been flying the same day. But (as I explained at the beginning of this chronicle), we had reserved our seats on October 12, and only later discovered that there was no flight from Sitía to Athens that day.