‘Tonight there will be you and me and the goats,” my guide Vassia Mastrogianni explained as we began our car journey into Crete’s White Mountains. At the wheel was Antonis who, ominously, Mastrogianni had just introduced as “a very good driver.” It wasn’t long before I could see why, as the road became a tangle of ascending switchbacks and plunging valleys. It was the kind of road that would have caused a meltdown had I been the one driving.
