Top 11 Huts and Cabins in Περιφερειακή Ενότητα Χανίων

Solid shelter, but in a disgusting condition as of April 2026. Full of animal poop and trash and there is mold growing on the floor.

very easy, but a great starting point for tours to Pachnes and other peaks of the White Mountains

"Of all men, it is the Cretans who most endure hardship, for their land gives little, yet they wrest from it much." — Herodotus, Histories On the shoulder of the mountain, just beyond the Chapel of Prophet Elijah, stands a structure as old as Cretan memory itself: a mitato. At first glance it looks like nothing more than a pile of stones, its domed roof rising from the slope as though it had grown out of the hillside. Yet every stone has been chosen, lifted, and set by hand, part of an ancient craft that has kept men, flocks, and traditions alive through centuries of hardship. The mitato is the shepherd’s refuge, the mountain hut of Crete. Its form goes back to the Minoan and Mycenaean periods, when similar circular, corbelled buildings were raised on high ground. Built of flat limestone slabs without mortar, the walls lock together with remarkable strength. The thick stone keeps the interior cool through the burning summers and shields against the cutting winds of winter. A single doorway opens into the rounded chamber where smoke from a fire curls against the stones, blackening them over generations. Here, milk from goats and sheep is turned into graviera, anthotyros, and mizithra — cheeses that sustained families, supplied markets, and gave Cretan shepherds their identity. The mitato was never just a shelter. It was a workshop of survival, a meeting place, and at times, a refuge. Many of them are still in use, handed down through families. Each stone tells of nights spent with the animals huddled nearby, of songs sung to pass the hours, and of raki shared around a fire while storms raged outside. Even today, when trucks and modern dairies have replaced much of the old work, the mitato remains a cultural emblem, as important to the landscape as the olive groves below. Look closely at this one and you see what makes it unique: a small white goat set proudly on the roof. This is no idle decoration. It is a tribute to the agrimi, the wild goat of Crete, also known as the kri-kri. Tough, agile, and untamed, the agrimi embodies the spirit of the island itself: proud, stubborn, independent, vanishing into the cliffs rather than submitting to capture. For centuries it has been both a symbol and a companion to Cretans — hunted, protected, celebrated. To place it here is to remind all who pass that shepherding is not just a trade, but a calling bound to the land and its creatures. Beside the mitato rises the Chapel of Prophet Elijah. In Crete, Elijah’s churches and chapels are almost always found on the highest ridges and peaks, the places nearest to heaven. From here he is believed to guard the land, watch the clouds, and bring the rain. His feast day, 20 July, is still marked with processions and fires lit on the hilltops. It feels fitting that the shepherd’s mitato stands shoulder to shoulder with the prophet’s chapel — one safeguarding the flocks and their produce, the other safeguarding the spirit of the people. History also left its mark upon these stones. During the German occupation of Crete, mitata across the island became more than shepherds’ huts. Their thick walls and humble appearance made them perfect hiding places. Resistance fighters found shelter within them, food was stored and passed along, and messages carried between valleys were concealed in their shadows. Cheese, raki, and bread could be payment, but they were also symbols of solidarity. The mitato was part of a wider network of survival, feeding not just families but freedom itself. To stand before this mitato today is to see continuity in its purest form. The ancient herdsman, the wartime courier, and the modern farmer are all bound to the same circle of stone. The goat on the roof speaks of pride and endurance; the prophet’s chapel speaks of faith and protection. Between the two lies the story of Crete: struggle, resilience, and an unbroken link to the land. Mandináda English Upon the stones the shepherds built, with faith their flocks to guide, The mountain kept its secret voice, where freedom would not hide. Greek Πάνω στις πέτρες έχτισαν, οι βοσκοί με την πίστη, κι η λευτεριά δεν χάθηκε, στο βουνό είχε τη φώτιση. Back-translation Upon the stones they built, the shepherds with their faith, and freedom was not lost, for the mountain gave its light.

Hidden in the trees here is a small round dry-stone building. At first glance, it looks like a miniature mitató, it is a low-land field shelter, part of the everyday agricultural landscape rather than the high-mountain pastoral world. The building is too small and too low to be a mitató. Inside, there is just enough space for a person to crouch, with a stone “bench” along one side and no room for cheese-making or sleeping. The roof was never a corbelled stone dome; instead, it was probably a simple flat or lightly arched covering that has now collapsed. The stones are rough, mixed field stones rather than the carefully selected flat plates used in mountain mitáta. Its location also tells a story. It stands in lowland woodland only a few kilometres from the villages, far below the summer grazing zones where mitáta are found. Structures like this were used as temporary shelters and storage spaces for tools, firewood, or animal feed during seasonal work in the fields and forests.

Highly recommended!

Sohalt

A dreamily situated mountain resort with attention to detail. Each cabin is individually and tastefully decorated. The main building/restaurant has a real mountain lodge feel. Several charming hiking trails, almost all of them circular, pass through this resort, making it worthwhile to spend a night or two there.

The sign reads: LEISURE ACTIVITIES PROTECTION AND RESTORATION OF THE NATURAL ENVIRONMENT IN THE REGION OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS OF GRELESKA