Kotsyfos Gorge shrugged off a year of boulders, bureaucracy, and broken dreams to offer the public a renegotiated pact with gravity. Drivers cheered, at least out loud. Hikers barely put away their irony, noting, “It only took 14 months and a small geological apocalypse for us to get our path back,” as local climber Spiros deadpanned from the newly patched asphalt.
The reopening saw a rare show of unity—tourists with cameras, shopkeepers with calculators, and one very tired civil engineer, all standing in the shadow of cliffs that still look suspiciously eager for an encore. “The restoration was complex, but this route is essential for Rethymno’s communities,” announced regional council member Maria Papadaki, who, unlike the boulders, managed not to block progress.
Local businesses have dusted off the ‘Welcome’ mats and optimism in equal measure. “Last year was a disaster. We lost half our income. Now, I hope the rocks stay up there,” sighed a café owner, probably speaking for every living soul within twenty kilometers.
The Kotsyfos Gorge episode has become something of a parable—equal parts nature documentary, traffic update, and a lesson in Crete’s unique approach to road repair: slow, communal, and just a bit theatrical.
Kotsyfos Gorge: Facts, Finds, and Not-So-Gentle Reminders from Nature
If Kotsyfos Gorge were any more dramatic, it would demand its own reality show. Here’s what visitors—and survivors of the past year’s detour—should know:
- Landslide Lockout: On March 13, 2024, tons of rock tumbled, shredding the road and halting trips south of Rethymno. Traffic lived elsewhere.
- Reopening for All: In April 2025, motorists returned, some cautiously, others with the giddy look of people who just paid their taxes and won a prize.
- Business Hopes: Local shops and taverns expect a better season, hoping tourist wallets return faster than the rocks fell.
- Hiking Routes: The upper section, starting in Kanevos, leads to Sellia Bridge in about an hour—assuming you enjoy jumping boulders and appreciate dry humor (as well as a dry riverbed in summer). The lower section toward Plakias meanders into a valley, past springs and centuries-old watermills, rewarding those who dodge oleanders and mud with moody scenery.
- Natural Highlights: Sheer cliff faces, some rising 500 meters, frame the journey. The gorge runs about 1,800 meters in length and ranges from a slender 10 meters wide to a rippling 600 meters.
- Landmarks: Tucked under rock faces, the chapel of St. Nicholas reminds passersby just how much people enjoy building in places rocks never intended.
“After a year detouring around the whole island, walking through Kotsyfos again feels like cheating fate—with better views,” joked veteran hiker Eleni Vrettou on opening day.
The reopening coincided—conveniently or ominously—with the announcement of a new operator at the neighboring Kourtaliotiko Gorge, promising “enhanced visitor safety and environmental protection starting May 1.” Some took it as good news. Others quietly savored the irony.
Meanwhile, paperwork for the yet-to-exist tunnel that will finally convince locals to trust geologists more than gravity might begin to circulate before the subsequent landslide. Time, as well as Cretan bureaucracy, works in mysterious ways.
Walking the Kotsyfos: From Kanevos to Sellia Bridge
Starting at Kanevos, intrepid wanderers step straight into the riverbed, threading their way around boulders and the occasional confused goat. After about an hour and several new Instagram stories, they pop out at the Sellia Bridge. Along the route, the gorge links with the subsidiary Boutsinas Ravine, where a 27-meter seasonal waterfall shows off during the winter. In summer, the river does its best impression of a dry vein.
Downstream to Plakias
Past the Sellia Bridge, the gorge slowly broadens into a gentle valley. Few pause at the bridge—most keep moving toward Plakias, trudging through the wildflowers and ducking under willow branches. The journey follows muddy paths beside old watermills—one lovingly repurposed by a Frenchman who lost a bet with urban life and another still brooding over lost centuries. The final approach offers a glimpse of the cave church of St. Onoufrios before reaching (relatively) easy ground and the beach.
Local wit has it: “In Kotsyfos, you either find your path or become part of the next landslide prevention plan.”
