Vehicles have right of way

 

An American visitor would also notice a major role-reversal on Cretan streets; trucks and cars seem to have supreme right of way, followed by motorcycles, bicycles, and then pedestrians. Cars here are, of necessity, small: A driver on a two-lane highway might have to contend with others passing him while a motorcycle or two zips between them all. That space to the right of what we call the "fog-line" is, to them, yet another driving lane: When motorists approach from the rear or flash their lights or tap their horn, the driver ahead moves to the right of the fog-line until passed. Stop signs don't exactly mean "stop," and J-walking is often a better bet than crosswalks, which have seemingly little significance. Brief double-parking is an accepted practice as long as done in front of the business of a shop owner you regularly patronize. Ukrainian gypsies jabbering unintelligibly from roof-mounted loudspeakers hawk shrubs and plastic and wooden furniture from slow-moving pickups, as the paths of others, like the threads of some intricate tapestry, dip and plunge around them. Ongoing road construction is a constant obstacle, as every stratum of life - kids, little old rough-shaven men and "ya-yas" [grandmas/widows] clothed head to foot in black - weave through the hubbub.

 

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls"

Our impression of the inhabitants of this 30 by 150-mile island under the thumb of other powers for thousands of years is that generally they have developed into tolerant, generally outgoing lovers of life. Travels to many countryside villages caused us to believe these folks would do anything for a stranger, materialism having not bit them the same as it has Americans. They are industrious, and yet time and money seem to mean little or nothing to them. Among Crete's older citizens, the British, Australians, and Americans are still highly respected for the role they played in liberating them and re-establishing their government from German occupation during WW2. Cretan forbearance is evidenced in the reply of an elderly caretaker of a cemetery for German soldiers killed there during WW2. When asked why he took such meticulous care of the final resting place of German soldiers who had so ruthlessly murdered many thousands of innocent Cretan men, women and children, this man summed up the matter, in so many words, "Every German soldier who died on Crete is the precious son of a mother who loved her son just as dearly as the mother of every Cretan soldier."

Fixing a VW Pollo

In the two weeks my wife and I vacationed in and around Crete's third largest city, Chania (pronounced "Hania"), in the miraculous orderliness of this seeming automotive chaos we saw only two minor fender-benders. When horns are honked it's seldom in anger, and accidents are typically caused by unenlightened tourists.

So where do you have your VW Pollo or Opel Astra repaired on Crete? When I asked this of Andoni Pavlaki, owner of Pavlakis Beach Resort where we stayed, he drove me to "the premier repair shops on Crete" as he called them, the ones he trusts, and interpreted as best he could with his limited grasp of English (that old axiom, "It's all Greek to me," is not without basis - the language barrier is immense). The two shops we visited took great pride in showing off their workmanship, also expressing a great curiosity to know how their work compared to that done in the U.S., as if our standards were their benchmark.

Small business a way of life

Our first stop, Skamonga Brothers Body, Paint and Upholstery, is owned and solely operated by two middle-aged brothers, (most Cretan collision shops are three or less employees). Their approximately 3000 foot shop located in an industrial area was clean and tidy, and they turned out quality repairs. From the small size of their office almost hidden in the rear of the shop and the lack of piles of open files and multiple filing cabinets, it appears automotive-related bookwork is minimal in Crete, allowing them more time to concentrate on actually repairing vehicles. When asked, they explained that the usual procedure following an accident is that the insurer writes the estimate and issues a check for that amount to the vehicle owner in his name. He is then free to employ the shop of his choice, and spend his reimbursement as he desires. Since most business in Cretan life revolves around pre-established relationships, a person takes his collision-damaged auto to the shop with which he has established a trusted business relationship. It's expected that the insurance check will be minimal, but the car owner is free to spend it as he sees fit, which these shop owners pointed out too often leads to butt-matching, minimal R&I (if any at all), and many other shortcuts commonly taken in U.S. collision shops, encouraged by insufficient insurer reimbursements.