Anastasi Fires Aftermath in Heraklion (Pictures)

• Anastasi fires lit across Heraklion brought tradition and risk in equal measure.
• Early cleaning efforts began at 6:00 a.m. on Easter Sunday.
• Minor damages: Ten garbage bins, two benches, one streetlamp, and one traffic light were destroyed or damaged.
• City officials and cleaning crews worked across multiple neighborhoods: Katsamba, Knossos, Nea Alikarnassos, Mastambas, Kaminia, Deilina, and Poros.
• Over five truckloads of flammable materials were preemptively removed on Holy Saturday.

There’s something bold—a little chaotic, a little ancient—in the Easter night air in Heraklion. Come the Anastasi (Resurrection) fires, the city seems to trade the promise of spring for the crackle and smoke of tradition. As the clock clicks just past midnight, flames flicker on city corners. Soot dances in the headlights, crowds gather, and old rituals wake for one short, wild night.

This year, though, the spectacle left a trail that no one could ignore. Even before sunrise on Easter Sunday, the city’s cleaning service crews were already on the move. Their day began at 6:00 a.m., rumbling through the quiet streets in big machines that gleamed brighter than most eyes after a sleepless celebration. Their task? Collect what the fire left behind—charred branches, scorched cans, singed benches, and more than a little melted plastic. Think a scavenger hunt with less candy and much more soot.

The Damage Beneath the Celebration

An old custom, burning effigies and anything that might fuel the Anastasi flames, has become tangled with a particular urban wildness. What used to be a gesture now leaves reminders—black marks, smoldering debris, and a not-so-sweet smell that clings to shoes and memories.

Saturday night brought a new wave of trouble. Lighter fluid cans, leftover gas, molotovs, even old tires—each added to the fire’s appetite. And when the flames died down, the city counted the cost:

• 10 garbage bins gone, reduced to metal skeletons
• 2 benches burned to uselessness
• 1 traffic light and a streetlamp torched
• Deep scorch marks painting the roads outside local churches

Not exactly the Easter gifts anyone wanted.

Why the Cleanup Mattered

But here’s why this cleanup wasn’t just another municipal Monday. The city knew the Anastasi fires would come—they always do. That’s why, on Holy Saturday, teams from the Municipal Police, Civil Protection, and the Hellenic Police made a sweep. They loaded more than five truckloads with branches, tires, pallets, and fuel containers, hauling it out before the fires could reach them. It was a move that probably spared the city even greater damage (and gave the cleaning teams a fighting chance at dawn).

Yet, despite the early efforts, the morning after still looked like the closing scene of a dramatic play. City workers—shirts stained, boots muddy—cleared squares and alleys from the main neighborhoods:

• Katsamba, ever eager to remind everyone it exists;
• Knossos, home to legends and now, plywood smoke;
• Nea Alikarnassos, where the fires always burn a little brighter
• Mastambas and Kaminia, perfect for those who enjoy chaos with a side of tradition’
• Deilina and Poros, proving geography doesn’t shield anyone from a bonfire enthusiast with time to kill.

And right there with them, sleeves rolled up, the Deputy Mayor of Sanitation, Environment, and Energy, Nikos Gialitakis, shared quick laughs and casual blessings with the crew, because nothing says fellowship like shovelling ashes before breakfast.

Heraklion isn’t shy about its customs, whether you’re a first-time visitor or a lifelong local. The aftermath of the Anastasi fires tells a story—of tradition, midnight sparks, and a city that shakes off ash and keeps going. For anyone wandering the squares next Easter, look for the crew with brooms and a few good stories to share. They’ve seen the way the city glows and how, as the sun comes up, it puts itself back together again (almost without missing a beat).