Conquering the Imbros Gorge

A major objective of the holiday part of my Crete trip was to walk the Imbros Gorge. Originally I had thought of hiking the more famous Samaria Gorge but, at 8km, Imbros is about half the distance and you can easily arrive and depart by car. It was also reputed to be just as beautiful, so the decision was made – and I arrived at Chania airport wearing stout leather walking boots and feeling a bit daft in the hot sunshine.

Our journey started 1,230 metres up in the White Mountains and when we took the path of big, round, loose pebbles to the gorge entrance I realised that the boot embarrassment had been entirely worthwhile.

As we walked, a flotilla of butterflies danced around us, their wings delicate flashes of red and brown. Even after we paid our 2 euros entrance fee and started carefully descending the track, the butterflies still seemed to lead us on.

A little way in, it felt like entering nature’s cathedral.  The rock cliffs towered some 300 metres above us, of Gothic proportions, and the roof of bright blue sky felt peaceful and uplifting. Occasional rocks and trees had the form and texture of sacred sculptures and the atmosphere was hushed, with only the occasional fellow worshipper sharing our path.

Suddenly, this sense of communal appreciation was enhanced as we came across hundreds of small cairns - conical piles of rounded stones clearly created and added to by walkers. They were perched everywhere on rocks beside the path and even along a tree branch, tiny altars to the spirit of place. Naturally, we each added our own stone with due reverence.

 After a while, the track narrowed to less than 2 metres with sheer, high rocks on either side, but they didn’t feel scary or claustrophobic.

 

Then came two animal attractions, the first a donkey tethered to a tree. Normally unremarkable in Greece – but this donkey is the official gorge rescue service and the his official handler was sitting close by fiddling with his mobile phone.  Second was a handsome dark green lizard basking happily on a stone.

Wooden signs mark the distance left to walk at every kilometre – and when the last one appeared after three hours I was surprised at how short the journey seemed. We had kept a steady pace, stopping only for photos and a picnic brunch, yet my calves hardly ached.

Close to the end we saw fellow hikers trekking their way back up the gorge, but that looked like seriously hard work and they were sweating profusely. No thanks. Instead we plumped for a cold beer and transport back to our hire car parked in Imbros.

 

Our ‘taxi’ turned out to be a pickup truck. I sat in the open back with my hand clenched tight on the side bar as we swung round 18 km of steep hairpin bends. A panoramic view of the sea widened below us as we climbed ever higher, the wind was in my hair and a smile was spread wide across my face. I had conquered the gorge and enjoyed it!