Truly, Madly, Sheepishly

Milk Monitor

Intrepid shepherd? On the horns of a dilemma Milking it for all it’s worth St George and the sheep

In line with a great tradition - started when the founder members of the CMB crew made a reconnaissance mission to the internationally acclaimed ‘Goats in Fancy Dress Gala’ (best dressed goat wins a prize) in Bree, Belgium - we bring you our exclusive report on the St George’s Day sheep festival in Asi Gonia. Now, in the event that you feel that we may be demonstrating an untoward lack of reverence for different cultural practices, let us reassure you that at least one of the editorial team is well aware that she is not in any position to point the finger. Just try explaining Morris Dancing to someone who is not English—May Morning 1990, Oxford, 7.a.m. “But, Kate, why is that man dressed as a bush?” And we won’t even begin to try and rationalize ‘The day when people roll large cheeses down a hill in the Cotswolds.’ Or Flemish vertical archery, come to that.

As we reported last month, whilst St George’s Day is a staggering non-event in England, here on Crete you will find celebrations with style, and the village of Asi Gonia is one of the best places to be. The village is located in the mountains, a few kilometres south of Argyroupoli. As is the case with many villages in the region, Asi Gonia has a long standing tradition of resistance to invaders—first against the Turks, then later during the Second World War. According to legend (or Patrick Leigh Fermor, if we’re being brutally honest about citing sources) St George is said to have appeared on a white horse in times of peril and to have scattered the marauding Turks. More recently, the village is famed for being the home of George Psychoundakis: The Cretan Runner. He acted as a guide for the resistance during the German occupation, and passed on vital messages between various partisan groups.

The Wool Pack

We drove up to the village from Rethymnon, following a convoy of cars and buses, arriving shortly before midday. At the outskirts of the village police and local volunteers were on hand to courteously direct us to a convenient parking space. We made a short walk uphill to the village itself, in glorious sunshine. Once we got to the village we found a party atmosphere—tavernas and kafeneions were full, there were outdoor barbecues, an outdoor market and, yes, lots of sheep in the central square along with some goats (though sorting them out was more difficult than you might have imagined). Various herds were driven through the village, and so that there wasn’t too much of a pile-up, the sheep were staggered into shifts (just try saying that after a few rakis). The eventual destination of the sheep was a large field near the church, where shepherds were frantically milking in order to supply villagers and visitors with free milk (bring your own bottle). At the small church of St George a large crowd had gathered to observe the blessing service—each member of the congregation being given a free cup of sheep’s milk. After witnessing the ceremony, we slowly strolled back to the car in somewhat reflective mode, contemplating the joy that is Crete in springtime.