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The skies are open again, but I am grounded

Roslyn Dee


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Stock photo: Getty

Stock photo: Getty

LightRocket via Getty Images

Stock photo: Getty

Last night I dreamt I went to Malemé. To look once more out over the sea there, right beside the airstrip where the German paratroopers landed on that fateful summer's day in 1941, occupying the island and giving rise to a local resistance movement arguably more ferocious and heroic than any other during World War II.

From the Malemé airstrip it's only a quick hop to the cemetery where almost 5,000 of those Germans lie buried on a sloping, grassy site, their flat-to-the-ground headstones all facing the sea and, indeed, the actual airstrip where most of them perished.

From the cemetery it's then only a short distance east to the beautiful city of Chania, while to head west instead will take you quickly to the market town of Tavronitis where the road west intersects with the turn for the south, carrying you down through the mountains to the peace and tranquillity of the south-west coast.