Crete Safari Day Trip with Local Villages & Waterfall

4.84

(19 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

“Try this — it’s stronger than you think!” That’s what Yannis said, grinning as he handed me a tiny glass of raki in a sunlit village square somewhere in southern Crete. I’d already lost track of the village names — they all blur together after winding through so many olive groves and stone alleys. The air smelled faintly of wild herbs and dust, and there was this low hum from the cicadas that never really stopped. Our guide, Maria, kept pointing out things I’d have missed: an old woman weaving baskets by her doorway, a faded mural above a church archway. She seemed to know everyone — or at least everyone waved at her like they did.

The day trip safari from Heraklion started early, with our driver navigating the kind of roads that make you glad someone else is behind the wheel. First stop: Afselemi dam. The water was weirdly calm, almost glassy, and you could just make out the ghostly rooftops of Sfentyli poking up below the surface. It felt eerie but also peaceful — like time had just paused there. After that we rolled into an olive mill where the smell hit me before we even got out: grassy, sharp, almost buttery? I tried pressing a green olive between my fingers; it left oil on my skin for ages.

I didn’t expect to get my hands messy at the pottery workshop (turns out clay is colder than I thought), but watching the potter shape something from nothing was sort of hypnotic. Maria laughed when I tried to say “thank you” in Greek — probably butchered it. Then came another village (I think it was called Krasi?) where we squeezed down these narrow lanes past whitewashed houses and tiny chapels. The raki burned going down but the little plates of olives and cheese helped.

The drive south got bumpier — lots of bouncing around in the 4WD while sheep stared at us like we were lost tourists (which… fair). We hiked into Portela gorge for about ten minutes; it was quiet except for our footsteps and some birds echoing off the rocks. The waterfall at Richtra wasn’t huge but something about its cool spray after all that dust felt perfect. By then I’d stopped checking my phone for signal or time.

We ended up at Keratokampos beach where everything slowed down: salt on my lips from swimming, lunch under blue umbrellas right by the sea — grilled fish, tomatoes so ripe they tasted sweet. I still think about that view sometimes when I’m stuck in traffic back home.