Greek Car Breakdown

The car was going along fine then just died. Day two with a rental car on the Greek island of Crete. I tried to start the engine again with the key as I coasted downhill. I then threw it into gear and popped the clutch. It still wouldn’t restart. I coasted to the side of the sleepy back road near where the hills, if not mountains, meet the sea and propped the hood open.

The first person to stop was a local. A turn of the key would do nothing but we did get the car started again via the roll down a hill and pop the clutch in gear trick. I remembered a gas station a few kilometers back so I figured it was best to try and make it there. I got about 1km and the car died again at a dip in the road by a creek.

The next person to stop was a German in a beautiful finely engineered Porsche SUV speaking perfect English with a thick accent. At this point I had already deducted it was probably the alternator. The battery was only a year old according to the marked date. A bad alternator means the battery does not charge properly and the plugs don’t get a spark. If I waited a while the battery might shore up enough juice for a restart and get me down the road a short distance before dying again. The German agreed it had to be something electrical.

I borrowed the Germans phone and was able to reach the owner at the rental car agency. He was surprised to hear I had a problem and claimed he hadn’t had any problem with a car in 6 years. I described the issue and although his English is good things seemed to be getting lost in translation. In the end I told him I would get to the service station and call him from there. The German was happy to give me a ride.

“Ah you should just leave the car. What did he tell you? It’s better to rent with an international car company like Hertz. You pay more but you don’t have problems like this”. The German was giving me advice in perfect English with a thick accent. I had to agree with him at the moment. He then went on to tell me he had been to Texas.

Hat’s off to the German in the fine Porsche SUV. He was super nice and helpful and dropped me right at the gas station. He left with a wave and thumbs up.

The station had a shop but no mechanic. Fortunately the woman running the place spoke good English. I told her my problem. She called the owner of the rental car agency, who goes by the name George, and had a very colorful conversation with him. It was all in Greek but I could tell she was really going to bat for me. They were on the phone for awhile. She reminded me of my 100% Neopolitan Italian aunt who knows how to get things done.

When the conversation ended she hung up, without me talking to George, and told me another car was on the way and I needed to meet it at a Taverna (outdoor restaurant) 4 km down the road. I asked where the car was coming from and she said it was coming from Heraklion which was at least 3 hours away. She then quickly flagged down a car with four older German tourists who spoke no English and somehow told them to give me a ride 4km down the road. I got in and honestly they spoke no English. However, I conveyed that I was from Texas and they thought that was real cool because they probably remember the TV show Dallas. After 4km I got out of the car and said “Danka!” they got a kick out of that and responded with a hearty “Bita!”

It was only at that moment that I got a chance to think things through. Will a car really appear here in 3 hours? If so am I going to want to chance another junker? The taverna was very quiet, there wasn’t anything else around, and no one spoke English. I figured 3 hours Greek time would mean 5 to 6 hours American time. The gas station was in a nice a little village so I had more peace of mind with the idea of going back. Especially since the station lady spoke good English and had a phone. I wanted to talk to George personally. So, I stuck out my thumb to hitched 4km back up the road.

My next ride was with a beautiful young farm girl. She signaled that I could hop in the back of the beat up small pickup truck with a few goat bones and no tailgate. She was going to the village. When we arrived she welcomed me and informed me that all the restaurants were good.

I first went back to the station and told the woman I’d rather wait in the village for awhile as I thought it was more interesting than the taverna down the hill. I then asked if I could use the phone to talk to George myself. She said yes and redialed the number for me. George answered right away. I asked for reassurance. He insisted that a car was on the way and that I just needed to relax at the taverna with a coffee. “No problem. I send car. It’s ok”. I then started to ask more questions but things started to get lost in translation so I just figured I would trust him and things would work out. When I got off the phone the lady at the station, who had originally talked to George, said she thought he was a good man and not to worry. I left and had lunch at a restaurant.

Before going back down the road again I called one more time from the station just to get a status report. George called the driver then called right back. There had been a delay but the car was getting closer.

My next hitched ride was with a young German and his Italian girlfriend. They were super cool and I would have liked to have visited longer with them but 4km goes by really fast. All I could do was wait at the taverna.

Well, sure enough about 5 hours later a car showed up. I hopped in with a driver who was a middle aged man who spoke no English. We drove to the dead car on the side of the road. I figured since it had been sitting there for a few hours it might start right up. It did. I pointed to the alternator but I couldn’t communicate my theory. He had an extra battery so I figured he’d at least get part way down the road. He called George for me and George told me to take the replacement car and to have a nice trip. I thanked George, mainly because he had stayed true to his word, and he replied, “No problem, you are welcome, I see you in one or two weeks. Have a good vacation”. A nice added touch was that the gas level was the same.

The breakdown basically ruined the whole day but I had just enough time to make it back to the beach at Elafonissi for a quick swim and spectacular sunset. The replacement car seems better. We’ll see.