That Sort of Time that is not Money

"Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time that is not money."

Just finished the Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn in the past few days. Not sure why I never got around to reading these books, or of young John Trenchard's exploits in the fabulous "Moonfleet", but it is a sin that is being happily remedied in Greece. Traveling solo on a fairly tight budget, I too have lots of that sort of time that is not money to while away walking, sightseeing, reading, and relaxing over carafes. Seriously, it really is fabulous fun, and great to simply have the time to indulge in such pursuits. Now into David Copperfield and - surprise - it is delightful too.

Arrived safely in Herkalion last night, and have checked into a pretty dodgy Youth Hostel. But it's in a central location, and the price of 10 Euro a bed was right. The strategy of seeking out those restaurants in which there are very obviously a number of locals also proved successful for a scrumptuous first meal here as well. Not too difficult, as this is a real city (population about 100,000) in contrast with the smaller islands. Oh, and it so happens that Cretian woman are uncommonly gorgeous, so that made dining out on one of the main drags on a Friday in the capital all the more enjoyable.

Back siesta-ing (of a fashion - cheap internet cafe with air conditioning substituting for a nap) after a morning in the Archaelogical museum and then the Palace of Knossos of the Minoans (approx. 2700 to 1450 BC). The "Palace" ruins are quite large, but complicated viewing because a lot has been reconstructed, making it difficult to know what was "there" originally. As always, though, there is the awe and joy of simply treading upon the old stones of the ancients, and basking in the incomprehensibility of it all.

The museum has some wonderous finds that are ridiculously old (we are talking more than 35 hundred years here) yet all too familiar by human standards: vases, daggers, jugs, pendants, frescos, figurines, rings, seals, tablets... And, of course, that's just what has been found. Quite amazing how there can be such similarities, down through the centuries. What else can you say?

Off now to wander a bit, likely up to the Martinengo Bastion to pay respects to Nikos Kazantzakis's tomb. (It reads "Δεν ελπίζω τίποτα. Δε φοβάμαι τίποτα. Είμαι λεύτερος." I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.) To Rethymno tomorrow, I think. And ever more sunsets, house white wine, and literature. Naturally.