Pink Cheeks, Shaved Bits and Ceiling Blowers! Day Two

Truth be known, Vags kinda forgot my birthday, but indulging in a swift morning in the old town of Rethymno, being the pertinent day, I carefully guided him in the direction of a suitable clothes shop and a nice eating establishment, hence ensuring my meagre needs were catered for.

Rethymno (1) (Small)

It is always a pleasure to see the Westerners (the West of Crete that is) slant on catering for tourism, so different from “our end”. Not to mention sauntering the cool, shady alleyways with tiny shops tucked away to explore.  But I must say the temperatures were brutal, and our stamina limited. so we beat a hasty retreat to the car and sped off to our next destination, coastal of course, to cool off.

Rethymno (2) (Small)

We decided we`d return to “our back yard”, as they say, chosing a favourite place of ours, becoming all the more popular as the newly opened road gives easier access to tourists.  Tertsa. Fortunately, these tourists are looking for peace and quiet too, so do little to disturb the tranquility of the place.

Tertsa Beach (2) (Small)

 

Tertsa Beach (1) (Small)

The long rambling beaches would take some filling, and bathers are spread far and wide.

Tertsa Gate.jpg (Small)

Beware though, only the open-minded can pass through these gates to the land of the uninhibited.  Bravely, we ventured through the two familiar monolithic gate posts, which provide a natural division between clothed and unclothed sun worshippers, where rosy red cheeks and boldly shaved privy parts lay out on display like shilling dinners.  Oblivious to our intrusion, the unclothed sun worshippers continued their private worship, some genially, others glaringly.  It did nothing to disturb my inner peace, just served to placate a mild curiosity.

In the evening, we ate supper on the beach, a kilo of local white wine quieted our moods yet further, my birthday cake – a slice of apple pie with a candle atop.  With windows open, we fell asleep with a cool breeze and perfect music – the waves crashing on shingle.