Kritinia Castle

Kritinia Castle was our start and end point for this walk. It was supposed to be an 11km walk but we met some mountain gypsies and by the time we got there we had to change plans. We wanted to finish up back at the castle to watch the sunset. If we hiked on to the village we would have missed that, so it became a 4km hike instead. This was probably a good thing as the afternoon was up in the high 20s already and our pale asses were already feeling the heat.

After setting off from the car park below the castle we passed the cutest little Greek cafe. Its roof was covered in the pink bougainvillea flowers that drape themselves across the houses on the island. Everything inside seemed to be upcycled. We looked longingly at the fresh ice cream and orange juice on sale but we were eager to get going after lathering ourselves in factor 50 suncream.

The views from here were already stunning and you could look out over the Aegean Sea with the islands of Chalki and the islets of Strogyli, Makri, Alimia in the distance. The sky was that blue that I could have sat and looked at it all day, if it wasn’t so hot. The previous night we had listened to Dmitri, our Greek host, wax lyrical about the beautiful light that he missed from his time living in rain-splattered Edinburgh. We nodded and smiled and listened to the cicadas around the lime trees where we sat.

We walked downhill, always a great start to a trek in my books (the only thing better is to walk uphill). Ahead was a villa that I knew was there from researching this walk on Google Maps. I also knew it had a tennis court and a swimming pool and that we would skirt around the back of it on our return.

We turned left before the villa onto an old dirt road. Ahead was the highest point on the island, Attavyros with its golf ball observatory on the top. There was also an old temple up there dedicated to Zeus, the Daddy God of the Greeks. Nestled in the foothills below was the village of Kritinia. The village was named after the Cretans that landed here after they were driven out by the Turks centuries ago. They considered themselves different from the other locals and as a result this whole area is a bit of a forgotten corner of Rhodes, kind of like Donegal, only not as damp.

This was where I messed up. Instead of hanging a sharp left, we took just a regular left and strolled through a plantation of olive trees. In the distance I could see Kritinia. I knew I was going in the right direction but I wasn’t really sure as I was working off old directions that I had found in a guide book and was trying to match them with the paths we were on. That turned out to be more difficult than I imagined as the landscape was nothing like the flat screen I had been looking at back in Ireland.

After backtracking to the correct path, we headed through a shady wooded area before the road brought us to the entrance to the valley. A field of yellow melons lay to our left. I didn’t even know melons grew on the ground like cabbages. I thought they fell off a melon tree or something.

Dragonflies accompanied us as we walked along the dusty road. It was so nice to be walking in heat. We followed black irrigation hoses that snaked along the sides of the road, carrying water where it was needed. Then the road turned to the left towards the village but we went right and descended into the valley. According to the guide book, this road would bring us down to a potato field. There were limes, pomegranates, almonds and pretty much everything except potatoes. While we wondered about the sense behind using a seasonal vegetable as a location in a guide book, a snake hissed in annoyance and slithered off into the brush.

The road veered right at an almond tree that Delphine was snacking from and it curved deeper into the valley. We were heading away from the village now and were returning to the sea. We passed the ruins of an old cottage building and wondered how many snakes were living in there.

On the hills around us were the remains of stone walls that had been built into the slopes to create levels that were easier to farm. The roadside was lined with cacti, their spiky leaves full of prickly pears. The road narrowed and started to become a track more than a road. You wouldn’t be too confident driving a car here. The light had a golden quality and the valley was full of shadows from the steep hills that circled it. We spotted birds of prey in the cliff walls opposite us. Down at the very bottom of the valley was a lone JCB sitting under the shade of a tree. These were everywhere and were probably the best form of transport once you got off the one main road that went around the island.

The road petered out here but there was no mistaking the gorge to our right where the valley sides closed in sharply. We were wondering if we should make our way to the JCB when we found a trail marker on a dry stone wall.

This led us off the dirt track and onto a walking trail along the steep side of the gorge. The landscape changed here, from dry earth to pine trees with their roots digging into the pale pinkish rock of the gorge, hanging on to the edges and reaching for the sun.

Because there was nothing else here, the trail was easy to follow. Anytime we had any doubt we would see another red dot spray painted onto a rock. Sometimes there was a little red man stencilled onto a boulder to assure us that we were on the right track.

There was no mistaking the general direction we needed to go as we could see the blue sea shining at the end of the gorge. The smells here were incredible. Wild thyme, oregano, sage and marjoram mixed with pine and swirled through the narrow ravine in the cool sea breeze. This was the Greece I had read about as a child – a place where gods roamed and humans stumbled upon them by accident.

The trail was narrow in places and rugged. At times it went dangerously close to the edge of the ravine so we had to watch our step. Probably there was a trail that snaked down below but we had no desire to scramble down and were content to tread carefully along. Eventually, we descended and arrived in a natural rock amphitheatre with the sea ahead of us. To our left was a giant forest of wild bamboo and we picked our way along the right side trying to avoid getting scratched by the knee high brush.

The trail brought us to the deserted seafront. On the right were the ruins of an ancient Christian basilica with walls tumbling into the sea and column plinths surrounded by smooth round stones that the waves washed up on the shore.

We had snorkels in our backpack but there was no way we were going in. First there were the rocks. Reefs I can handle but the waves were powerful enough here to keep the rocks moving. There was a constant rumble as the rocks moved up and down in the churning surf. The waves were strong, unlike the rest of the island. Ankles would not last long in there. Further up the beach there was a sand spit but I didn’t trust what lay beneath the water. The other issue was the amount of rubbish being washed up. Everything from shoes to hundreds of plastic bottles. The snorkels stayed in the bags but we sat for a while looking at the sun dropping above the islands in the Aegean Sea.

Instead of coming back the way we came, the red arrows brought us up the steep side of the gorge at the old basilica. This was the hardest part for us and we needed plenty of water breaks as we followed the winding trail upwards. The views were worth it though.

The climb brought us out behind the villa we had seen at the start of the walk. It was fenced off but we moved along its perimeter until we arrived at a tarred road. From here we could see our endpoint – the Knights citadel on the hill.

I was delighted that I had managed to bring us off road through a gorge and out into a deserted beach using the directions from an old guidebook and hours spent zooming in and out of Google Maps to find the route. Yes, if I had no signal when I first got lost it might have been a different story, but this was one of the highpoints of the trip for me.

It took us about 15 minutes to follow the road back up to the Castle and we had to walk hard. Over our shoulders the sun was sinking fast. The cafe was still open when we got back but we skipped it to get up onto the battlements of the sea-facing tower. There were a few other people there too, about 10 in total. Some had drones and some sat on the walls and rocks of the castle, smart phones ready to capture the moment when the sun sank.

Google Maps: 36.26440045761375, 27.808867077933574

Distance: 4 km

Time: Three hours

Type of walk: Dirt road narrowing to goat trail along a ravine to the coast

Views: Coastline, uplands,

Animals: buzzards, butterflies, dragonflies, snakes

Plant of the Day: Sea Onion

Humans: Nobody until we reached the castle

Score: 10/10