Into the Labyrinth - Trying to Be Normal (Excerpt 2)

April 12, Thursday

We’re flying! As always, it's exciting, fun, and scary all at the same time. 

Crete. April 14, Saturday

Hotel Neptune is located just 40 meters from the sea. It’s small and simple, but the owner is friendly and helpful. The first night was cold, and we were freezing under the covers as the hotel doesn’t have any radiators.

"Did you have a pleasant night?" the owner asked after the first night.

"Well, we actually had trouble sleeping, because it was so cold in the room," I said.

"Then I'll make sure you get some extra blankets," he replied. 

April 19, Thursday

We hitchhiked to Chania where we booked a rental car and had lunch at the harbor. It was nice while the sun was shining, but then Zeus must have gotten into a bad mood, because the clouds piled up and the wind whipped the waves into foam. We put on our sweaters and walked up to Stalōs, a small village on a hill west of the city. There was a tiny church in the middle of the village, and from it you could hear children practicing choir singing. In the street outside, an old woman was setting off Easter firecrackers while old men were having lively conversations at the café. Men dominate the public space, while women stay in the background. 

* 

On Wednesday morning we drove east on the highway that runs along the north coast of Crete. We quickly reached Rethymnon where we turned south. The road up in the mountains was covered with gravel and stones the size of tennis balls, and if there were no boulders on the roadway, it was full of potholes big enough to swallow a soccer ball. 

* 

The journey to Agia Galini on the south coast turned out to be a shaky experience along a winding road, but the town itself was cozy. We sat down at a café by the fishing port and enjoyed the view. 

April 21, Saturday

She wanted to sleep in, so I had breakfast alone. At nine, two representatives came to pick up the car. I paid and then brought her breakfast which she took in bed. I had bought freshly baked bread and yogurt from a small grocery store nearby, and coffee from the hotel. 

* 

On Easter Eve, we took it easy, resting and washing clothes. When the sun came out, we took a walk east and had a light meal in a taverna. We took a nap at the hotel around nine and then hitchhiked to Chania to watch the Easter celebrations. There was a service in the big church, and townspeople were preparing for the Easter parade in the main square. Penny suggested that we take the opportunity to eat as nothing was likely to happen until midnight when the priest starts the festivities. We were tired of Greek food, so we went to Loukoulos, which promised an international menu. We ordered some kind of schnitzel with spaghetti Bolognese and French fries as sides.

Towards midnight we were the only guests there, and it was obvious that the waiters did not want any guests at all. In the end, they couldn't hold back any longer and ran out into the street to watch the fireworks that started going off in front of the church.

"Today is a very special day in Greece," said the only remaining waiter.

We paid and hurried out. After the priest declared that "Jesus is risen," people wished each other Happy Easter, hugs and kisses were exchanged right and left, and the square quickly emptied of people. While waiting for a taxi, we saw a cat get hit by a car. The poor creature was thrown into a violent spin, screaming as it spun around, but no one but us seemed to care. Minutes later it lay like an old rag in the middle of the street. 

April 22, Sunday

On Wednesday afternoon we drove east towards Faistos, an ancient Minoan palace located on a hill overlooking the Messara plain. Penny got a handle on the excavations using a guidebook that had detailed maps and descriptions. We worked our way through the 4,000-year-old ruins and tried to imagine what they once had looked like, but it wasn't easy because Phaistos isn't reconstructed like Knossos, and almost all the vases, pots and jewelry have been shipped out to distant museums. 

* 

We had planned to spend the night in Pírgos, which was marked on the map with a large ring but turned out to be a tiny town. I had to shift into first gear to get up the hill that led to the village street, which was also full of large potholes. I walked into a restaurant and asked where I could rent a room for the night. An old lady dressed in black greeted me with a toothless smile and pointed in the direction we had come from, and signaling that we should come back to her place for a bite to eat. We did indeed find an inn in the direction she had pointed, but it only had two rooms, and both were rented out. By now it was pitch black outside and we didn't know what to do, so we drove back to the old lady and ordered food in the hope that she might take pity on us and rent us a room if we ate there. She was happy to have us back and offered us a choice of two dishes — soup or pork chops.

The waiter suggested in broken English that we go back to the nearest town the size of Pírgo, but we had no desire to renew our acquaintance with the lousy road that had already tortured us once. We had already written off the other option, to continue to Skinias, since the road there would be even worse. Then he suggested that we drive down to Tsoutsouros on the coast. It was a tourist resort with many hotels, he assured us.

We looked at each other as we sat by the warming wood stove and had no desire to go out into the cold night again, but we had no choice. On the way out of town I bought a flashlight, and a bit of twine to secure the license plate that was about to fall off.

Shortly after we turned south towards the coast, the road disappeared into a large puddle of water. I got out of the car and examined the surroundings. To the left were reeds and to the right was a stream. Chirp, chirp, chirp one could hear from the reeds. I shone the light into the brown puddle that seemed to be one or two decimeters deep. We had just decided to move on when we saw a pair of light cones approaching from the opposite direction. It was a big truck and it drove straight through the puddle without any problems. And so did we. 

* 

I took over the wheel as we had about a mile of hairpin turns between us and Tsoutsouros and I had more experience of mountain roads. It was a crawl without even a little moonlight to guide us. We slogged our way up curve by curve to get over the ridge that separated us from the coast. All I could see in the light beam in front of me was the dirt road, or a piece of rock wall if I came out of an inside curve. Where there was no gravel or rock, it was pitch black, which was nice in a way as we were spared from having to stare into the void. From time to time the headlights caught white shrines erected in memory of those who had perished, and to protect people like us. At the highest point of the road was a small white chapel. We thought about asking to spend the night there, but it looked so desolate that we kept driving.

The fact that we were now starting the descent gave us some hope, at least until smoke started to come out from under the hood. The radiator water was boiling since I used engine braking to avoid wearing down the brake pads. And since we didn't have any extra water for the radiator, I had to keep up enough speed to drive in second gear. I could see from Penny's face that she was scared.

We must reasonably have descended quite a bit, but saw no signs of life, no lights revealing any small village down there. The road became more winding, and the hairpin turns came more frequently. When I opened the ventilation window, a cold wind howled. What if the hotels have not opened for the season, what if the village is black and deserted when we arrive? Is there even a village down there? Are we on the right track?

The first sign of life was an oncoming truck that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. There was a moment when our headlights caught a few treetops in the valley, but then it went black again, and the road plunged further down into the unknown.

But Tsoutsouros did exist, and before we knew it, we heard the roar of the Libyan Sea a few meters away from us on the left side of the car. It was half past eleven and we could see light from a couple of small cafes. A young boy who knew a little English helped us find a hotel where the hostess quickly prepared a room for us. It cost 500 drachmas (40 kr) and had a wide bed, a sheet and a couple of blankets. It was probably a room that the family used during the low season, but we were not very picky at this point. The bathroom looked quite impressive with a bathtub, sink and bidet, but we soon realized that there was no glass in the glass door, hot water, toilet paper or soap. The towels did not seem to have been washed since last season, and the sponge by the sink was probably five years old. 

April 23, Monday

Feeling blue. Maybe it's the realization that the trip is almost over. I also have a fever, headache, and a stiff neck. Paradoxically, the sadness came at the same time as the sun broke out and made a pleasant afternoon in Chania. We sat down at a café near the tourist office which is housed in the old mosque of the Janissaries. I bought a large ice cream to go with my coffee. For a moment, just as the sun was sinking behind the west side of Chania's Venetian harbor, a small lone cloud, half hidden by the row of houses, acquired beautifully golden edges. I picked up the camera, but the cloud had already lost its luster when I took the shot. 

* 

We hitchhiked to Chania to visit the archaeological museum located in an old Venetian church. The oldest finds date back to 3400 BC and consist of fine bowls, pots, and cups. The objects are all very light in shape. It is fascinating to look at 5,000-year-old objects and see how little has changed over time. The objects are refined, but only marginally. For us, living in the midst of a constant revolution, this continuity of form is almost unimaginable. Around 1000 BC, the beautiful and imaginative animal and human motifs disappear, and are replaced by dull geometric shapes. Abstraction drives away the living. 

April 24, Tuesday

We spent most of Easter Sunday sitting in bed. The weather was bad, and we were catching up. We were both tired and didn't think of making love, but we started anyway just after midnight. I don't remember much more than caressing and massaging her for a long time.

"It was the best time yet," she said afterwards while hugging me.

"It's good to see you so relaxed," I said.

"I trust you," she said.

And me, I'm resting, I'm waiting, I'm thinking.

What an idiot I am. 

April 26, Thursday

We are sitting in a café in Rethymnon waiting for the eleven o’clock bus to Heraklion. The sun is shining. There is a light breeze. She is reading H.G. Wunderlich's The Secrets of Crete. We took it easy on Tuesday since I had caught strep throat. The weather was better, but no swimming weather. We hitchhiked into Chania and stopped at a pharmacy. The pharmacist was friendly and knowledgeable and spoke good English. When he heard that I had pain in the back of my throat, he gave me antibiotics.

Ahead of us, Knossos is hidden behind lush green trees. I sip my ouzo and wonder if this is the right place to propose, but then began to doubt the idea. After all, Knossos symbolizes not only Europe’s roots, but also a tyrannical empire. But who knows, maybe it's about the progress of human culture, for better or worse. Then it might not be such a bad place after all. 

April 27, Friday

Penny started taking antibiotics yesterday sine her tonsils were swollen.

I held off on my proposal, or rather, I hesitated. The mood never set in. We were sick and tired, and it was exhausting to run around among the ruins to see as much as possible before they closed. The sun is slowly setting over Chania and our trip is coming to an end. I’m dazzled by the glittering surface of the harbor’s water. We sit on the terrace of Café Port, each having a metaxa. Hundreds of swallows fly aimlessly and purposefully over the rooftops. To the south, the snow-capped mountain peaks rise. I can't see a single cloud in the sky. A cool breeze blows in from the Aegean Sea, and the square below us is filled with locals and tourists. Cretan youngsters dressed in blue jeans sit outside the bar chatting while pop music is playing.

She writes in her diary while I wonder if I will ever conquer her heart. 

April 28, Saturday

Only after we got back to the hotel, showered, packed and each of us had finished a glass of whiskey, only then did I do it.

"Do you want to take another and longer trip with me," I said.

"Maybe..." she replied in a slightly joking tone.

"One that lasts a lifetime," I added.

"I don't know," she said.

She caught her breath and her eyes watered. Then she leaned forward and kissed me.

"It is so difficult. I'm so afraid of making mistakes. I need more time, but I promise you that you won't have to wait long for an answer."

I gave her time.

Once again, I have taken a gamble. By asking the question, I risk breaking up the best relationship I've ever had with a girl. She has said several times that she distinguishes between being fond of and truly loving. The latter means she wants to get married, and she has never said that. So, I cannot propose to a girl who I know loves me! I can only hope that my proposal will release her love, that through this total revelation of where I stand, she will be able to listen to her inner self. Now she doesn't have to worry about being rejected if she discovers that she also loves the person she has fallen in love with. With my question, I wanted to force us both out of a corner. I don't want to keep pouring my love on her if she doesn't really want me. If I wait too long, the parting will be bitter. I am no longer 22.

Trying to be Normal is the third part of  novel with the working title Shifting Passions.