Crete Expedition Reunion Tour 1977 - 2011

34 years after the original Geog-Ex trip to Crete - several of the original members are returning to the area.

Iain Christie writes:

"to celebrate our 50th year a few of us are going to re-visit the scene of our Geog-Ex trip to Crete (1977) and walk the Samaria Gorge!

Three of us were on the original trip: Iain Christie (me!) , Steven (Danny) Kay and David Lymburn - who is coming over from Perth Australia where he has been living for 25 years.

The others are from the same year at school - and both former Scouts! - Martin Shaw and Neil McArthur.

All of us have kept in touch since Port High days. We will be taking our photos from 1977 to reminisce with over a glass of Ouzo and I will email you photos and a full report of the Crete 2011 trip! I know Ian would have been disappointed to hear that this time there will be no rucksacks, sleeping bags or Kendal Mint Cake! Instead we have rented a Villa.

Geog-Ex Crete 1977 was just the most amazing trip that was enjoyed and never forgotten by all on it. From the moment the school mini bus left Slaemuir until the day, 3 weeks later when we arrived back in Dover (with the school mini bus waiting with our O-Grade results!) we had experienced and seen so much. From witnessing 2 Yugoslavs jumping out of our train compartment window in the middle of the night while at border control and disappearing through the fields with their sackfulls of Levi denims to sell. It was a true trip of a lifetime, all down, of course, to Ian."

A gallery of images from the original 1977 trip can be seen here.

Update: 

"A great time was had by all on our 50th year re-union trip to Crete!....

Our fantastic villa was in a village called Kournas with great views over the bay by Georgioupli (between Chania and Rethymno). We arrived Friday lunch and raised a glass (or 3) of Metaxa to Ian.

Early start Sunday, taxi pick up at 7am.

Over an hours taxi drive later we were dropped at the top end of the Samaria Gorge in Omalos. (passing through the small village of Lakki, half way up, where the bus dropped us 34 years ago)

9.30am we started our hike through the gorge. It hasn’t changed apart from a new footbridge here and there. Hard work underfoot, had to make time to step aside and look up to admire the ‘views’ as you had to concentrate on every step. Litres of water and 6 hours later we emerged at the very welcome beach of Aghia Roumeli. 

Getting our boots off and falling into the warm sea was heaven!!

After our swim we had a well deserved beer(s) before getting the ferry to Chora Sfakeion where our taxis were waiting to take us back over to the North side and a great meal in Geourgioupli.

We all agreed to do something similar for our 55th!

Down to Ian, Crete now has become quite a special place for all of us."

Few people ever dreamed of the existence of such places...

Although I’ve now been a leader in Scouting for nearly 40 years, I was with Abercorn for 30 of those and a further 10 as a boy.  So I wasn’t a JNI Scout, but many of my school friends were. When I was an impressionable youth, aged between 14 and 18, I was really envious of them.  Our Scouts had very enjoyable camps, learning to pitch tents, build pioneering bridges, cook and survive in such exotic places as Kircudbright, Dunoon and Pitlochry.   But these guys in JNI Scouts travelled to places such as the High Tatra Mountains, visited ‘vampire country’, almost became stranded in mysterious East Berlin – all of this in the 1960s when few people ever dreamed of the existence of such places. 
 
But later, when I was a teacher at Ian’s school, I was immensely privileged to get my opportunity for such adventure on 8 of his expeditions as a leader.
 
Magical recollections - the barren lunar landscape of the central plateau of Iceland, climbing high in the Pindus Mountains near the Albanian border, meeting and eating in the houses of the inhabitants of the inaccessible village of Bulnes high up in the Picos de Europa, watching shooting stars whilst leaning against a cliff 8000 feet up in the Pyrenees, warming ourselves at a campfire built high up on the rocks in the Maritime Alps.
 
Memorable insanities  -  being woken up and ridiculous amounts of money demanded of us on an East German train in the middle of the night to cross the border (which money, of course, we didn’t part with!)…   drying soaking wet tents on station platforms…  watching 15 year-old boys’ eyes pop out of their heads as nude Swedish blondes joined them in the hot springs in Iceland…    ejecting American professors from their triple-booked train seats (which we could only do because we had pre-prepared a whole lot of official-looking fake documents with all sorts of fake official signatures, crests, and stamps (it didn’t matter what they said as long as they looked the part!)…    rolling water-melons down a mountain village street, …    numbering jokes so we didn’t have to actually say them – just say ‘number 43!’… organising birthday parties high up in remote mountain areas, including daft games, celebratory sardines, oatcakes covered in tubed cheese topped with a birthday candle, washed down with delicious Cremola Foam…  discussing for days whether tadpoles have any concept of object-permanence… composing expedition songs which celebrated the particular characteristics and foibles of each expedition member…
 
Ian only really relaxed when we were at least 2 days away from civilisation.  He was then in his natural habitat.  The air was pure and unpolluted, it was very clear what was necessary for survival, we were in a ‘thin place’ where we were very close to nature.  When we had completed the ‘mountain’ part of the expedition and were on the way home or camping near a town, Ian’s ‘town grumpiness’ would return – and we all know how infuriatingly grumpy he could be.
 
Yet those who knew him and were privileged to have gained his trust also know how outstandingly caring and concerned he could be.  His true self, his soft-centre, was encased in this protective grumpy shell which ‘kept the tourists at bay’.

- Jack Winch

Haven't seen a Skirving in ages...

A group of us (1st Port Glasgow BB) were on the train from Calais to Milan, by morning we were out of food, my brother Paul went exploring along the length of the train. He arrived back a while later exclaiming, "Wee Barr's" up the front with some of his Scout Troop.
As all of us were current or former Geography pupils at PGHS we trooped along to say hello and obviously scrounge any spare food too.
Ian in his usual droll self says "jings haven't seen a skirving in ages then two come along at the same time"
We retired back to our carriage with a tin of peaches.

Ian is greatly missed by all of us who knew him, a character who we all thought would go on forever

- Stephen Skirving

I bumped into him in Glencoe by accident ...

Miss him like hell - last time I bumped into him was in Glencoe (3k feet) by accident - lovely evening and many memories revisited.
I was 30 at the time and although I eventually adventured on my own and had put up my tent many times over the years - he still told me I had done it wrong.

Martin Pollock, former Geog-Ex member

I will never forget those days...

Went on the 1978,79 and 80 Trips with Mr Barr (Port Glasgow) - Will never forget these days - Iceland was a hard grind but amazing considering the weights we were lugging at an early age and have been back to the country several times since. Sicily - God I remember the rumble on the rim of Etna....2 weeks later it blew its top - we must have had God on our side as I remember a few were killed at the top. Sleeping in Olive groves under the stars - the famous Night of the Giant toad - the noise of the piglets in the night looking for food - tapping out boots in case of scorpions and stamping the ground to warn off any snakes at Mr Barr had tought us - 3 shift watches when we hit night time at the coast...God and scaring the hell outta 2 midnight bathers - oh and there was the sinking of the so called unsinkable pedalo.

10,500 feet up the Pyrenees - Totally the best trip for me...Linked together at the top and boot skiing down over the Glacier to camp - Sorry to be rude but that dried food certainly caused some interesting noises.....The midnight rustle of people secretly taking food out of packs and Mr Barr and his Pipe observing from the front of his tent and aways taking notes for the journal - In a way a second father and teacher more than you could ever wish for.....Miss ya.

Martin Pollock