Crete – Agios Nikolaos Journal Days 5–9 | Villages, Beaches and Bus Adventures

Having settled into the rhythm of Agios Nikolaos, it was time to venture a little further afield.

Day 5 – A Day on Dry Land

After the sea ventures yesterday, today was firmly land-oriented.

It was a cloudy and slightly muggy day, so we set off in the opposite direction from the hotel, away from the town. We walked past the little sandy beach where we had enjoyed our first swim of the holiday and continued along the road beyond.

Much like our walk a couple of days earlier, it gradually began to feel as though the road was leading us towards not-a-lot in particular. Before committing ourselves to another lengthy march into the unknown, we made the sensible decision to stop at a coffee bar for a sit down and a drink.

Refreshed, we retraced our steps towards the hotel and then continued on into town.

This time we ventured around the back of Lake Voulismeni. What looked perfectly manageable from below turned out to involve a rather steep climb. Having completed it, I'm not in any hurry to repeat the experience.

Near the top we rewarded ourselves with a coffee and a view. The view was excellent. The coffee was somewhat less memorable and perhaps a little overrated.

With the weather remaining warm, humid and slightly heavy, it felt like a day for taking things gently rather than trying to pack too much in. Sometimes holidays need days like that.

Day 6 – Bus to Plaka

I had started reading The Island, which is set in Plaka, the nearest point on the mainland to the former leper colony of Spinalonga.

As Day 6 was a Saturday, the idea of staying in town didn't much appeal. We had realised while wandering around the lake on Friday that weekends were likely to be busier. Not our vibe!!

So after a conversation with AI (useful as it turns out), we decided to get the bus to Plaka. We knew there was a bus late in the morning, and that the only return service was at 5:30pm, leaving us with a full afternoon to spend in the village.

The bus station was easy to navigate. I'm thinking we were not the first people to look slightly nervous while trying to pronounce "Plaka" respectfully and, as is always the way, holding up two fingers whilst requesting "THEE-oh Retorno".

As it happened, it was all very straightforward. The buses were clearly numbered and air conditioned. Score.

The journey took around half an hour, passing through Elounda on the way. Elounda looked bigger than Plaka and rather nice too – a possible contender for a future trip.

We needn't have worried about finding the bus stop at the other end. The bus simply stopped in the middle of the road in the middle of the village. Job done.

We mooched around and got our bearings, which didn't take very long. Plaka is not a large place. Having established the layout, we decided it was time for a leisurely lunch.

Unfortunately the restaurant we'd read the most recommendations for was completely full. Judging by the queue, those recommendations were probably well deserved. Instead, we ambled back along the coast and found a restaurant with a lovely view and a friendly maître d'.

In terms of food, the view and the maître d' were probably the best things about the restaurant. Still, the ambience was good, and not everything you do on holiday has to be a roaring success. C'est la vie. Or whatever the Greek equivalent might be.

After lunch we found a small beach and spent an hour sitting and people-watching.

Then – shock news – we had a coffee.

The bus journey back was gentle and enjoyable, and from the station it was a quiet twenty-minute walk through town to the hotel.

Day 7 – The Day of the Massage

We had booked each of us in for a massage in the hotel spa for Sunday. Again, walking around town all day at the weekend didn't seem a necessity for us, so the spa seemed a good bet.

R had a back, shoulder and neck massage – 45 minutes. While he was being worked on, I wandered down to the beach to enjoy some reading and the sound of the waves for a little while.

When I returned for my turn, the masseuse, George, was explaining to R all about his particularly tight fascia. This is, apparently, my permanent message, so it was nice to be somewhat vindicated.

My appointment, as a birthday present, was a longer 90-minute session of full body massage and facial.

It turns out George was a bit of a miracle worker. Having thoroughly pummelled every part of my calves and thighs, he then informed me that my back and shoulders were "in harmony". Naturally, this immediately made him one of my favourite people.

Oh my, did I feel good afterwards.

In fact, the feeling was so positive that R promptly booked another massage for the Tuesday before we headed home.

It's a shame Crete is quite a long way away really, because I could very easily get used to a monthly detox massage.

By the time the massages were finished and we had brought ourselves back to the world of the living, we wandered slowly into town and eventually settled on a very late Sunday lunch at an Italian restaurant.

It was just lovely to sit and watch families out together, enjoying vibrant discussions, leisurely food and each other's company. There was something wonderfully Mediterranean about it all.

Such a joy.

Day 8 – Kritsa

We decided to let loose on the buses again and take a journey inland to the little village of Kritsa.

It was only about a twenty-minute journey and we arrived at the one and only bus stop in the town square.

Kritsa was everything you might hope for from a traditional Cretan village. Linen shops, olive wood shops, and all manner of souvenirs and trinkets, generally at much more reasonable prices than Agios Nikolaos.

We stopped at a lovely pavement café for a drink. A fruit juice cocktail for me, which was delicious, and unsurprisingly a coffee for he.

We had already decided that we wanted to explore Kritsa Gorge, so after hydrating we made our way through the village. Before long we began spotting handwritten signs for the Gorge, accompanied by reassuring yellow painted dots.

It was a good twenty-minute walk beyond the village before the landscape began to change. The path became rougher, stones became boulders, the route started to climb gently, and vultures began circling overhead. Slightly unnerving, if I'm honest.

We spent around an hour walking into the gorge itself. For the most part it was a moderate hike, although every now and then there would be a five-foot scramble, a rope to help with a climb, or a strategically placed metal rod to stand on while negotiating larger boulders.

Eventually we stopped to consult the map. Neither of us was entirely certain how far along the gorge we had reached, and after some discussion we decided the sensible option was to turn around and retrace our steps, knowing exactly how far and how difficult the return journey would be.

Descending proved quicker than climbing, although it also produced a few moments that were arguably more exciting than strictly necessary.

Finally, a little tired but entirely pleased with ourselves, we arrived back in Kritsa. We had enjoyed our drinks stop so much earlier in the day that we returned to the same café for a late lunch.

A pork gyros arrived at exactly the right moment and hit the spot beautifully.

We caught the bus back from the town square and managed to get off a little closer to the hotel than planned when R recognised a side road after someone else had pressed the stop button. A small victory, but by that point our legs were grateful for it.

As it happened, we found ourselves almost directly opposite our favourite coffee bar.

It seemed rude not to stop and round off the day properly.

Day 9 – Istron / Voulisma Beach – Final Full Day

Our final full day in Crete arrived rather sooner than seemed reasonable.

After R's massage at 11am, we headed for the bus station once again and caught the bus to Istron and Voulisma Beach.

When we arrived it seemed a little strange to find no sunbeds or umbrellas available. Whether we were too early, too late, or simply looking in the wrong place, we never quite established. Rather than baking immediately in the midday sun, we decided that lunch was the sensible first move.

Suitably fed and watered, we headed down to the left-hand cove, which seemed a little quieter than the main stretch of beach.

And there we stayed.

For around two and a half glorious hours there was very little agenda beyond enjoying being there.

Some swimming.

Some people watching.

Some fish watching.

A little reading — still making my way through The Island which is feeling very much like i'm in the sotry with all the local place names.

Eventually we caught the 5pm bus back to Agios Nikolaos and made our way towards the hotel.

Via a coffee, of course.

Back at the room there was the slightly melancholy task of mostly packing for the journey home.

The holiday wasn't quite over yet, but it was beginning to feel that way.

Day 10 – Heading Home

Our flight home wasn't until late evening, with the hotel pickup scheduled for 8:30pm, so there was no need to rush.

After the inevitable final packing session and a leisurely breakfast, our suitcases were magically transported down to reception and we set off for one last wander into town.

We had a plan for the day: to eat and drink our way around all our favourite discoveries from the holiday.

It seemed only right to begin with a morning coffee.

From there we wandered through town to Achi Nos, where we shared calamari and chicken kebabs for lunch. Everything felt wonderfully laid back and unhurried.

As if that wasn't enough, a chocolate dessert appeared at the end of the meal as a thank you from the restaurant.

Awesome.

Unfortunately this created something of a dilemma, because there had also been promises made regarding the ice cream shop. By this point we were almost as familiar there as we were at our favourite coffee bar.

Of course we still went.

We simply walked there a little faster in an entirely scientific attempt to burn off the calories.

The afternoon drifted by gently. We wandered around the town, up and down the little lanes, and spent a fair amount of time talking ourselves out of buying souvenirs.

There was one final Freddo Cappuccino.

After a sit, a chat and a little more mooching, there was also a farewell dinner at Almyriki, where we had enjoyed such a good meal earlier in the holiday.

Eventually the time came to return to the hotel and begin the journey home.

The coach transfer to the airport felt rather long and, if anything, seemed to stretch out the inevitable more than was really necessary.

There was one unexpected benefit though. As we had been picked up first, we spent the journey calling at various other resorts around the area.

Seeing them confirmed something we'd suspected all week: we had been exceptionally lucky with our choice of location.

Many of the other resorts felt far more tourist-focused and far less like the sort of place we would naturally gravitate towards. Agios Nikolaos had suited us perfectly.

It had been a really lovely holiday.

Nine days is a long holiday for us. Neither of us gets a huge amount of pleasure from spending all day on a beach, although I can happily pass the time with a good book. Finding somewhere that offered a balance of walking, exploring, good food, bus adventures, little villages, beaches, history and excellent coffee felt like quite a coup.

Crete, and particularly Agios Nikolaos, turned out to be exactly the right fit.

← Days 1–4 of this Crete journal

Agios Nikolaos Crete Travel Journal – Days 1–4 (Spinalonga Cruise & Coastal Walks)

I do appreciate there is an 8 year gap here! I can't begin to fill it in really but as time goes on maybe I will.

The three month gym membership mentioned in my last post has now become a career as a fitness instructor. Teaching various Les Mills programmes, yoga and Reformer Fitcore™. But all that is for more time.

This post is really because we had a lovely holiday and I wanted to journal it, and this seemed a good place.

Crete – Agios Nikolaos Travel Journal

Hotel: Hotel Ariadne Beach, Agios Nikolaos (booked via EasyJet Holidays)

(Booked via EasyJet)

Day 1 – Arrival in the Dark

We landed late in the evening after the flight from Gatwick, leaving around 4pm. With the flight itself and the two-hour time difference, it was properly dark by the time we made the journey from the airport to Agios Nikolaos.

There’s something quite disorientating about arriving somewhere beautiful when you can’t actually see it yet — just the outlines of hills, occasional lights, and the sense that the sea is somewhere just beyond the road.

By the time we reached the hotel it was fully night-time. We checked in, went straight up to the room, and stepped out onto the balcony.

The first real moment of the holiday arrived quietly: a full moon hanging over the sea, reflecting across the water. No fanfare, just that silver light and the sound of the town settling down for the night. It immediately set the tone for everything that followed.

We slept well — surprisingly so, considering the travel and time shift — and even managed to get up in time for breakfast the next morning, which always feels like a small victory on day one.

Day 2 – Finding Our Feet in Agios Nikolaos

The first full day was all about orientation. No plans, no agenda — just walking and seeing what the town would reveal.

We wandered down into Agios Nikolaos and started to piece it together: streets that looped back on themselves, glimpses of the harbour, and that constant presence of the lake sitting right in the middle of everything like a hidden centre of gravity.

Coffee came early, as it should on a first proper holiday morning, and we followed it with a simple Greek salad for lunch — fresh, salty, exactly what you want when you’re still slightly in travel mode and not quite ready for anything too heavy.

The afternoon was more wandering. We found the lake properly, following paths around its edge and getting a feel for how the town wraps around it. We found an ice cream shop too — one of those unplanned discoveries that somehow becomes a reference point for the rest of the holiday.

Later in the day we extended the walk back to the hotel, taking a longer route that brought us past the harbour and the statue of Europe. It was one of those slightly unplanned detours that ends up being the best part of the day — the light changing, boats shifting in the water, everything still feeling new.

By the time we got back, the town already felt a little more familiar than it had that morning.

Not fully known yet — but no longer unfamiliar either.

Day 3 – The Long Walk

Today we walked out of town in the opposite direction, heading beyond the harbour on the far side to see what lay further along the coast.

It started simply enough — a steady wander, following the shoreline and seeing how far Agios Nikolaos would stretch before it stopped feeling like Agios Nikolaos.

Not far along the route we stopped at a small beach bar tucked into the edge of the walk. It was exactly the right moment to pause: a drink, some shade, and a chance to reset before carrying on.

After the break we continued for another kilometre or so. The town gradually loosened its grip on the landscape. We passed a place called the “ZEUS Hotel” — our own slightly amusing moment of recognition — and then an olive farm sitting quietly by the roadside.

After that, the feeling shifted. The buildings thinned out, the edges of town faded, and we found ourselves in that slightly ambiguous in-between space where it’s not quite settlement, not quite countryside. A bit open. A bit barren. The kind of place where you start to wonder whether you’re still on the right path or just wandering for the sake of it.

So we made the entirely sensible executive decision to turn around.

And it turned out to be a very good call.

We headed back to the beach bar and stopped properly for a late lunch. Calamari was ordered and, by all accounts, it absolutely delivered. One of those meals that feels earned rather than chosen.

The walk back through town took most of the afternoon. It had that gentle drift to it — no rush, no urgency, just retracing steps through familiarising streets. There may have been another coffee stop. Possibly ice cream as well. Details are respectfully left unconfirmed.

Later, we headed just a few hundred metres beyond the hotel to a sandy beach on the other side. The afternoon light was softening by then, and the sea had that calm, slightly reflective feel to it.

We swam, properly this time — the kind of swim that resets everything. Swallows skimmed over the reed beds nearby, low and fast against the water. For a while there was nothing else to think about except breathing, floating, and remembering that you’re actually on holiday.

And that was enough.

Day 4 – Spinalonga

Today was the Spinalonga day — a half-day cruise from the harbour that we had booked in advance.

The morning started gently with a relaxed breakfast before walking into town. There’s something nice about not rushing on a day like this, especially knowing you’ve got a set departure time but nothing else demanding attention yet.

We stopped at the pharmacy on the way to pick up travel sickness tablets and bite cream, then immediately had to pause again for a coffee in order to take them. The Freddo Cappuccino is firmly establishing itself as a holiday staple at this point — one of those discoveries that feels like it might follow us home.

The cruise departed at 12:30, but we arrived early and made a very good decision to board straight away and secure shaded seats. That small bit of planning paid off for the rest of the trip.

Once underway, the boat hugged the coastline as we left Agios Nikolaos behind, with the guide pointing out local areas and giving context as we went. It was a calm, easy start — just sitting back and watching the coast slide past.

After about an hour we stopped for a swim break. We decided not to join in, mostly because we didn’t have anything properly dry to change into afterwards. Watching everyone else though, there was a slight sense that we might have missed out — the water looked incredibly clear, and everything we heard suggested it was warm and inviting.

From there we continued on to Spinalonga itself.

The island was genuinely fascinating. It’s easy to forget how recent its history is — it only stopped being a leper colony in 1957, which brings it uncomfortably close in time. That proximity made it feel more real somehow. Our guide struck exactly the right tone: respectful, measured, emotional without ever overdoing it.

After the introduction, we were left to explore the island independently. It doesn’t take long to walk around — maybe half an hour — but it’s the kind of place where you slow down anyway. We wandered from the small high street, around the old buildings, past the church, and finally out to the graveyard.

There’s a quietness to the place that stays with you even after you leave.

We were back on the boat by around 4pm and headed back to the mainland on a slightly quicker return journey, docking at about 5.

Conveniently, the ice cream shop sits right by the harbour, so that was the first stop ashore. After that, another coffee inevitably followed on the walk back — it almost felt like a required part of the routine by this point.

Dinner was back at the hotel, and later in the evening we went down to the beach for a quiet sit in the dark. The pebbles made that particular sound they do when the waves pull back — a kind of soft, constant shingle rhythm that’s oddly hypnotic.

Back in the room, I downloaded a Kindle book: The Island by Victoria Hislop — a fictional story set around Spinalonga. It felt like the right thing to do, almost like continuing the day in a different form.

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That’s the start of the story — a few early days settling into Agios Nikolaos and finding our rhythm.

More days from this Crete travel journal will follow in the next post.