There's a certain irony about tipping up at an eco-resort with a toddler. Come to think of it, there's a certain irony about eco-resorts, but I digress. Having a baby has to be the un-greenest thing anyone can do, regardless of how many cloth diapers you might wash or wooden toys you find at charity shops. (And for the record, my cloth diapers went through the wash all of, oh, two times and our house is full of so much plastic tat it can feel like stepping into a Chinese toy factory.)
Not that we headed up to the eco-retreat of Milia, in the moutains above Chania, to try and assuage our new parent guilt at creating another carbon-guzzling citizen. These days, as I toss another day's worth of dirty Pampers in the rubbish (whoops, I meant Nature Babycare, although I reckon Pampers leak less at night) or get through yet another age range of baby clothes, I have almost accepted my lot as planet destroyer. But I'm not knocking Milia's green status.
Milia bills itself as a traditional settlement where, for a tidy fee, you can live like Cretan peasants of yesteryear. (Yet another irony, surely.) All the guest houses have been restored from the ruins of old village cottages. Luxurious they are not. But it's a great idea for a resort. I'm not sure it was the best place to head with a toddler, however. Especially one who chose our one day in the mountains to get sick. It was like being in the Navajo Nation all over again. But on the plus side, at least he slept for most of our walk, ahem, rock scramble.
Louis survived but I think his personal jury is still out on mountaineering given that every time we've taken him above sea level thus far he's become ill. At least after downing sufficient Calpol he managed to enjoy elements of being there. Namely the four footed ones: the 25 or so cats and umpteen goats were definately his highlight. I would post more pictures as evidence but I've misplaced my blogging camera. Am very much hoping it's not still in Crete, because we're now in London.....