Paleochora is 75 km south of Chania. The drive took an easy hour and a half over a mountain range at 640 metres above sea level. The road passed through several dramatic, deep, stony gorges like this one, with eagles circling whose homes were very high in the rock face.
Paleochora is a small town built on a small peninsula that has 16 km of coastline - it is literally surrounded by the Libyan Sea.
To both east and west there are significant areas of National Park through which there is no publicly maintained road system. Some villages and beaches along the south west coast can therefore only be reached on foot, bicycle, motor cycle or by boat. This is what makes Paleochora claim to be the centre of the south west region and some of the best beaches and unique villages of Crete, as well as the Samaria Gorge Biosphere Reserve, are within a radius of 50 km.
The local economy is based on tourism, tomato growing in ugly plastic sheds and olive oil production. Tourist accommodation is excellent and plentiful, probably because people use it as a base to visit the much broader region. This was our apartment block - we were on the upper left.
On one side of the peninsula is the western or 'afternoon' beach with lots of sand, umbrellas and sunbeds.
On the eastern side is the 'morning' beach, very rocky and much smaller.
Just along from this little rocky cove is a jetty for the passenger boats and the best fish restaurant we have found so far - the Caravella. Apparently there are still fish to be caught in the deep waters off southern Crete. The same can't be said for much of the rest of the Med.
There was a film festival while we were there. A screen slung outside the little town hall in the main street, with local music on the opening night. Unfortunately there was an important soccer match being played on the same night so the film festival had a bit of competition.
The shops stayed open till very late after having had a siesta from about 2pm to 5pm. Everyone, except Paul, was in long legs and long sleeves at night as the wind never stopped during our four days and made the evenings quite cool.
A drive to the port revealed what Paul is convinced was the yatch on which Tony Mokbel fled Melbourne and escaped to Greece.
I, however remain skeptical.
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