See-through plants

The scene spread before me under the high sun could not have changed much since biblical times.

On a dry, dustbowl of a riverbed, a herd of goats skipped sure-footedly across the stones and rocks, following the magnetic sound of the clanking bell round their leader's neck.

They had been grazing in one of Crete's dozens of fabulous gorges, where sheer cliffs soar spectacularly on either side as you head for the Mediterranean Sea.

The setting is stunning: lilac oleander, yellow broom and scarlet poppies adding a vivid, almost artist's palette effect, against a dusky olive background.

The pungent smell of wild sage fills your nostrils while the hum of exotic insects and a symphony of birdsong really do make these hillsides truly alive with the sound of nature's music!

Thousands of Brits make this pilgrimage to Greece's largest island every year to walk its river gorges.

However, because Crete is so far south, it can be oppressively hot in the height of summer, so shrewd holidaymakers choose the start of the season in May or the end of October for their seasonal trek.

It's also a cool way to save money, because you pay low season prices and the mosquitoes are at their least malevolent with temperatures in the bearable 70s or low 80s.

I joined a party to the island's most popular destination for gorge groupies' at Samaria a ten-mile trek from the Somalis plateau on a route which slowly descends nearly 4,000 feet to Asia Roundel on the Libyan Sea.

This is a trek where fitness is more important than youth. Comfortable boots or trainers, a large bottle of water, suntan lotion and a hat are absolute essentials too.

Unfortunately, the Samaria Gorge can, sadly, sometimes resemble the start of the London Marathon, with clusters of walkers crowding for the best positions to launch their expeditions.

But, as I discovered, there are many alternatives where you can enjoy the views without the crowds. And, even more satisfying, a tavern is never too far away.

My favourite gorge was the Diktamo, where we encountered the goats. Their ancient bells, echoing off the hillsides, give their herdsmen an easy fix on their whereabouts. Much better than satellite navigation and a tradition that's been handed down from their nannies, you might say.

After a five-mile walk over some tough terrain, the tavern in Stylus and its cooling, excellent Greek salad were a welcome sight.

But I took a tip from the hardies and included two other gorges in my break - Aging Irene and Tsikhilana. The first ends at Souyia, where you can choose to dine and relax at a selection of restful seafront cafes.

The other starts in Sirikari and ends with a climb up to the historic mountain village of Polirinia and its Roman aqueduct.

Ignore the village cafe and climb to the Dorian ruins above where you will be warmly welcomed at the Acropolis Taverna and treated to an amazing, panoramic 360-degree view - arguably the most magnificent in Crete.

And, like all good travellers, it's good to tuck into some real food at your journey's end. Cretan cuisine centres mainly on chicken, pork, lamb, rabbit or fish, served in a variety of non-spicy sauces.

However, local wine is, I am sorry to report, eminently forgettable. If you are up for something really different though, you could dip into their appropriately named-retsina, a brew flavoured with pine kernels.

I promise it's an acquired taste but one worth developing at just over a pound a litre against £4 in the tavernas.

Another admirable find' was the Zaharias Restaurant, just outside Platanos on the island's north west coast. As we headed for the prehistoric village of Phalasarna and its sandy beaches, we stopped for a Mythos beer.

The waiter, Fortis, told us proudly that his mother Helen was the best cook in Crete' and urged us to return and try her freshly prepared dishes. We were glad we did.

The family grow their own delicious tomatoes and my grilled octopus with penne in tomato sauce tasted a lot better than it sounds.

Afterwards we were treated to free samples of Helen's strudel and a tot of the local hooch, raki, a colourless liquid drunk like schnapps which is not for the faint-hearted.

In fact, it left me with a fiery breath which could have stripped a painted door from 50 yards.

The Cretans almost always give you a drink on the house at the start or end of a meal. And, when you call for the bill, you might get a small portion of dessert thrown in too.

Similarly, a round of drinks usually arrives with a bowl of nuts, chunks of ice-cold feta cheese or olives.

We were based in Platanias in the province of Chania, which is on the greener, western side of Crete. The airport at Chania has expanded in recent years to accommodate more flights from the UK and avoid a long coach trek from the main airport at Heraklion.

The former fishing port of Platanias, with two miles of beach, has been developed to cater for the tourist industry. It has a host of cafes, bars and discos. The Mylos, a converted water mill, was, for me, the pick of the bunch.

But if you head uphill a few yards towards the old town, there are a dozen buildings all with rooftop restaurants giving breathtaking views over the bay.

The Sunset, the Almiras, the Panorama and the Cosmos all fell over themselves with their smiling determination to make sure everyone had the very best of times.

But I was drawn back several times for lunch at the Drakiana, a two-mile walk inland from Platanias.

Here, Teresa from Cheltenham copied the movie character Shirley Valentine. She came to Crete 22 years ago, met and married Manolis Mavromatis, had two children and opened a restaurant by the side of a river. "I just fell in love with the island and its people," she explained.

Not quite biblical but certainly romantic. And easy to understand why the island could ring your bells too.