Clean Monday

We didn't really have anything planned...it was just going to be another day of work. The kids weren't home, it was just the two of us, and we were not really drawn by the idea of the traditional grilled squid and homemade kites. Clean Monday was supposed to pass us by. Not!

Talk about last minute, Sunday evening we were invited to tag along to a village called Gergeri, up in the Cretan mountains, approximately seven kilometres before Zaros in the county of Rouvas. Why not? we thought. One can always work! Weather forecast was good and having the fresh air clear the cobwebs in our heads did not sound like a bad idea at all. On the contrary.

Tank filled with gas and bag filled with sandwiches (just in case) we arrived at the meeting point for some start-off-coffee. A group of about 20 people had gathered, mostly Dutch, but some Greeks.  An inventive Dutch soul had provided the group with 20 orange ice skating hats which we were obliged to wear. I wasn't really thrilled about that. What kind of image would we burn in these village minds, a parade of fluorescent-orange heads strutting their stuff like a herd of disobedient sheep through the quiet streets of their village? We would probably never be allowed back in!

Anyway, as good little lambs we wore our hats while a caravan of cars headed its way up into the wilds of Crete. After about an hour, the caravan leader halted and showed us where to park. We did not see much of a village, but were guided by foot down a steep path that slowly turned into the even steeper alleys of a beautiful traditional village. It seemed a little too quiet until we turned onto the main road of Gergeri. Both sides of the street were filled with tables and chairs, every taverna and kafenion was open for business. Right smack in the middle a stage was set up where four musicians were tuning their instruments. The banner above it told us we were cordially invited to the first Kathari Devtera celebration of the cultural association of Gergeri. Hooray, it's party time!!

Luckily, we got ourselves a big table fast cause in no-time the street started to fill up with visitors, most of them dressed up to an interesting point of bizar-ness. Here, I understood the importance of our hats and started wearing mine with pride.

While food and wine appeared on our table in an endless flow, a fantastic parade of old Cretan traditions went by. Two different weddings, the hitting of olive drums, a dead man brought back to life with raki, men, young and old, dressed as black sheep being naughty. All in all a wonderful experience.

Due to our own party mood and dress code, we fitted right in as Dutch Sheep and became an attraction of its own, duely recorded by local TV stations. We danced, we sang, we ate, we drank, we had a fantastic day.

As the sun slowly started to set, we faced our only downfall: the steep walk back up to our cars. On the drive home, right before I nodded off, I remember thinking: I've got to thank our guide again for bringing us here.

So, Kostas...thanks again, man!