Last month, I was in Chania with plans to visit nearby Rethymnon and Heraklion. It was the lowest of the low season and I figured it was a good time to take advantage of the sparsely crowded streets before the tourists returned. Sure, the skies were a bit gray and the temperature was hovering in the 40's but the idea of potentially having the ruins at Knossos to myself more than made up for it. And then I woke up. Like literally. I had set an alarm to catch an early bus but as soon as I shut it off, my phone mocked me with the day's weather forecast. All I saw before pulling the blankets over my head and going right back to sleep were the words "snow and sleet". Forget that noise. I wanted some Greek history, not an Arctic expedition.
Now it was February and I was back in Chania. The sky was blue, the temperature had inched up into the 50's and that highly unwelcome snow (the first since 2004) was a distant memory. I finally hopped on that bus to Rethymnon. Or Rethimno. Or Rethymno...it all depends on whom you ask. Since there is no direct transliteration of the Greek to Roman alphabet, the phonetic translations are all over the place.