I’ve been pondering the word “sweet spot.” The word reminds me of my softball days. For all you non-sporty people (mainly you Jessica) the sweet spot is the optimal part of the bat where you want the ball to hit. If you hit the ball directly on the sweet spot, you’re more likely to have really great results. You will have hit the ball solidly, connected perfectly…. it’s a pretty great feeling. The same term can be used when catching a ball. Failing to hit the sweet spot often has varying results…usually it just means the ball doesn’t go as far, but sometimes it could result in a decent amount of pain…catching a line drive in the middle of the glove, or hitting the ball off the end of the bat really hurts.

I’ve come up with my own meaning for the word “sweet spot” today.

As you may already know, Jessica and I have spent a fair amount of time on this trip in the sun. We’ve gone swimming, we’ve hiked, we’ve snorkeled, and of course, we’ve “laid out.” A rather funny term I guess, that really just means we’ve spent hours in a horizontal position reading, sleeping, working a crossword, listening to music, talking, or just watching the steady motion of the waves. One would think that this “laying out” doesn’t require much thought or skill, but there is a bit of a science to it. First there’s the application of sunscreen. How much is too much? Using a higher SPF may be the healthy choice, but if you’re going for that great tan you really need to stick with the lower numbers. Where is the best place to lay out? Back at home my options are pretty basic. Backyard on a towel, backyard in a chair, or on the roof, which to be honest I’ve never tried given the fact that I value my life, and the roof easily lends itself to a fatal fall, or more likely, a fatal heat stroke…although I’ve come close to the latter with both backyard options. Greece is different. There are beach options, boat options (see previous blog J), and rock options. Jessica and I prefer the rocks. I know, I thought I would pick the sandy beach too. But we have found that rocks are a lot less messy, they tend to be way more secluded than the beach, and they offer easy access to the water. (The best rocks are those actually in the middle of the water, but they require just a little more work).
The only negative with using a rock is sometimes the comfort level. You really need to find just the right rock…flat and smooth…You also need to position your body in just the right way, so as to become one with your rock, fitting perfectly with the indentions of the rock. This is a rare thing. Usually at least one leg or arm is in pain, and you have to tough it out, but every once in a while, it will happen, that special moment, the moment when you forget that you are laying on a hard, bumpy, piece of nature, and instead, think that you’ve just sunken into the softest bed….that’s when you’ve found it… your sweet spot.

Even as I write this entry, I can’t help but think of “sweet spot” in yet another way. I’d have to say I’m in a bit of a “sweet spot” right now. I’m sitting on my front porch outside my cottage in Azalas, Naxos, watching the clouds slowly change color as the sun is thinking about setting. Listening to the waves of the Aegean, just a few steps away, hitting the rocky cliffs that jut out into the water (tempting the adventuristic side of me- I see another cliff climb in my future). All is beautiful, all is peaceful. My entertainment though has been the sweetest of all. Four adorable German/Greek blond headed blue eyed children…just being kids. Singing, screaming, laughing. The youngest, dressed in shorts and a bright blue puffy winter coat. A sight to see in the heat of summer. He’s dragging a very large red rubber ball that I believe to be filled with rocks. A Sparta hat with red plume is on his head, and a sword is tucked into his shorts. He’s chanting something in German, and has just stopped to flail his ball into a tree and whip out his sword to attack his pretend enemy. He sees me then, and gives the most heart-melting smile. So that makes three boys I’m in love with on this trip…The cute slightly sarcastic waiter from Folegandros, the sexy from afar surfer dude who also plays paddleball from today, and the four year old little boy who reminds me of JJ.

When it comes to Sweet spots, this Greece trip has not disappointed me. On a daily basis I find myself exclaiming… “this is amazing, or awesome, or I can’t believe how beautiful this is.” Some of the highlights, which may show up in a future blogs, but I’ll just mention them here now to keep with my sweet spot theme, have been:

- The balcony in Athens on the first night
- Sitting on the deck of our first ferry boat waiting to blast off to Crete, reading and talking with Jessica and Susan
- The café in Hania with the sweet old man
- The other café in Hania with strawberry crepes and the high top table
- The middle of the Sameria Gorge
- Standing in the middle of the crystal clear waters of Elafonisi
- Our first dinner in Crete, Tanam, where I ordered shark
- Our last dinner in Crete, the one with the most amazing ambiance, the one where we meant to order something small and split it, but instead, ordered half the menu J
- Sitting on the steps of the Hania lighthouse at night, looking at the moon, the stars, and the city lights
- The view from the top of Skaros on Santorini
- My own personal bedroom…the loft at our place in Santorini
- The restaurant with the Caldera view in Santorini (before they overcharged us for water)
- The café in Folegandros with the cute waiter and the warm Nutella covered donuts
- The view of Katergo beach after the long hike
- The top of the Mountain Jess and I free climbed and then claimed by writing our names with rocks
- The giant rocks we laid out on after the free climb…the ones with the crashing waves, like fireworks
- Watching the sunset on top of the church at one of the highest points in Folegandros
- The first 5 minutes of our mule ride to Ambeli beach
- The bus ride to our current place in Naxos. The winding road…each turn giving better views of our newest island.

Jessica and I like to think of this trip as more than just a vacation, but really just living life in a different location (a pretty awesome location, free from most everyday stress, but still just regular life- it’s ok if you don’t buy this J) With life though, sometimes you hit the sweet spot and sometimes, well, you just hit the end of the bat. I won’t share with you the painful “mis hits”, but I will say that one involved not being able to pop some much needed popcorn. I know, such problems…..I’m happy that those days are very rare, and I’m excited to add to my sweet list…as we continue our time here in Greece.

The plan for the day was simple. We headed to the second largest town in Folegandros…Ana Maria. We’d hoped to poke around the town and then head to a beach. We heard that there were several you could either walk to or catch a cique to (that means boat…yes we are learning here.) So the bus let us off and as far as we could tell, this so called town consisted of one, maybe two buildings, and a lot of dirt roads leading to more dirt roads. Our companion bus riders, who appeared to be heading to the same place as we were…sporting the classic beach attire, all exited the bus with us, but in the time it took us to do a quick scan of our surroundings, these people had disappeared, and we were left standing with a Swedish mom, her two kids…..and a tiny little Greek man named Nicholas who wrapped his arms around Sarah and began talking very quickly in Greek, unphased by the fact that we had no clue as to what he was saying…he just continued to ramble on, leaving Sarah and me trying to make sense of the situation. After a few minutes, we realized just what sweet little Nicholas wanted. He was trying to convince us that the best way to the beach was to rent donkeys from him (or were they mules? or maybe hinnies?) and let him lead the way. He promised to take us to the most beautiful beach. We counted, and Nicholas spoke six words in English, so it was a real feat for us to realize that this was the offer on the table. We conferred briefly and realized that this was an opportunity we could not let go. Riding donkeys through the Folegandros countryside, lead by the tiny Greek Nicholas (he was really tiny)…And to be completely honest, what else were we gonna do? We had no idea where the beach was, and now that all the other beach goers had somehow vanished, we couldn’t even follow the crowd. The price seemed fair enough, so we shelled out the euros. And to further validate our decision, we saw that the Swedes were in as well. Even though we had no idea what exactly lay ahead of us, it was nice to know that we’d be sharing this adventure with other travelers. The mom, Monica, spoke relatively fluent English, which was a real comfort, and seemed to have a knack for communicating with Nicholas even though she didn’t speak Greek. So lots of pictures later, we had all mounted our donkeys and set off down the dirt road. Something you should know – Nicholas helped each of us on to our donkey and then lead his over to find a stone or hillside to stand on to give himself a boost on to his. In the time it took to do this, the poor Swedish kids were a quarter mile down the road. They seemed to stay pretty calm, though.
We rode along for quite awhile, really enjoying this excursion. Nicholas jabbered pretty much nonstop, which was a real mystery to us because we clearly weren’t understanding so much of what he was saying. He was a persistent fellow, though. With the added pantomime, we were able to catch bits and pieces of what he was telling us. Most of our brief conversations ended with him grinning and saying repeatedly, “No problemo.”
Many conversations later, we realized that we’d been trotting along on these donkeys for a very long while, and we wondered how we would have made this journey on foot…And where had those other beach goers disappeared to? And how were we going to make it back? Nicholas sure delivered on his promise, dropping us off at one of the most secluded and gorgeous beaches we’d seen. Relieved to have made it, we started a very long and no less confusing conversation about how to get back. It basically consisted of Nicholas saying – bus, 6 o’clock, Nicholas, penta – and then he’d point to some numbers on his watch. And we’d furrow our brows, so he’d repeat the whole routine. We were pretty hot and ready for the water, and realized that the more he repeated these phrases, the more frustrated we would become, and not get any closer to understanding the plans for our departure. We had high hopes that penta meant 5 o’clock, which seemed a likely time to make the 6 o’clock bus. We said good-bye and settled in with the water stretching out before us.
It didn’t take long for us to realize that even though this was one of the most beautiful beaches yet, it was by far the hottest. It’s like the blazing hot sun was allowed in, but even the slightest breeze was forbidden. We stretched out on our towels until we were dripping in sweat, and then headed to the water. Turns out, the water surrounding Folegandros is freezing. It was definitely refreshing, but unless we were swimming, it was almost too cold to bear. We split our time between snorkeling and sweating on the beach until we were surprised by Colin, the Swede, telling us that the donkey man was back. It was only 4 o’clock, and my first thought was that Nicholas was stealing an hour of our beach time. I thought about what to do and lifted my head from where it had been resting on my hand to find that a pool of sweat had gathered in my palm. Nick could take the last beach hour – ain’t no way I was walking back. So we gathered our things and followed the Swedes.
Here’s how the departure went: Nicholas helped Colin and his sister Christine mount their donkeys and then sent them on their way, a different way than we had come. They climbed a steep hill that lead to the top of a cliff overlooking the beach. Monica was next. My heart was beating a bit faster on behalf of the kids who had reached the cliff’s edge. I desperately wanted the rest of us to mount our donkeys so we could save the Swedes. Nicholas walked over to my donkey, but instead of helping me, he reached into the saddle bag and pulled out an unfamiliar piece of fruit. Then he peeled it and ate it. Then he pulled out another and offered it to me. So I shouted at him, “What in heaven’s name are ya thinkin, Nicholas? Forget snack time! We have to save the Swedes from plummeting into the ocean!” (Well I said it in my head.) I declined the fruit, so he ate it, and we finally started our climb up to the cliff’s edge. My heart continued to race as I watched my donkey’s hooves landing carefully on the boulders that climbed the hill in front of us. Sometimes I stopped watching, as it seemed better for my health.
The ride back was beautiful, and we were grateful to be seeing a whole new part of the island, but it was very unsettling following a man we really couldn’t talk to. We rode and rode until finally we reached the bus stop. But we kept riding. Uhhh, Nicholas? What’s the plan man? He just kept leading us toward Chora, where we were staying. I started to wonder if he would take us the whole way home. It’d be great to save the bus fare, but I was certain that our chafing selves were not up to it. Since the sun had sucked every bit of assertion I had previously possessed, I just bobbed along. Every now and then when we passed an oncoming car, I would look at the driver and say, just loud enough for Sarah to hear, “Help. I’m being held captive on a donkey.”
Just when I had mastered balancing my legs up by the donkey’s head and reclining back in the saddle (and by saddle, I mean slats of wood) we pulled over. Not at a bus stop. Not at our home. We were at a watering hole. I guess when you traipse around endlessly in the hot sun, the donkeys work up a thirst. I continued to recline on my donkey, my thoughts darting back and forth between frustrated confusion and deep gratitude for such a ridiculous experience. But mostly I was wondering if we’d ever make it home. Just when I thought we were finally going to start the last leg of the trip, Sarah whipped out her Greek phrase book. She motioned Nicholas over, seeing this as a prime opportunity for a lesson. Are you kidding me?!? I knew that Sarah had been wanting to learn the correct pronunciations of a few phrases, and I recognize this as a completely appropriate endeavor. But are you kidding me? I’d been blasted by the sun, my thighs were about to call it quits from holding me securely atop my donkey, and I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that Nicholas was just taking us home with him to be his farm hands. And I’d seen how easily he was distracted from caring for the Swedes. Remember the fruit incident? It wasn’t until he’d assisted her with an entire page of her book and I had sighed several times that we set off again.
It was indeed the last leg. Nicholas, despite the minimal communication, lead us right to where we needed to be…another bus stop directly back to Chora. And to be completely honest, he did much more than that. He showed us far more of the island than we ever would have seen on our own, took us to a beach we never would have found, kept us laughing with his nonstop charm, and all for such a low price. Here’s to that little Greek man for not selling out to make a killing off the tourists, for staying authentically Greek (and eccentric), and for teaching Sarah several phrases she has repeatedly put to good use. I did have moments of frustration during this excursion, but they were far outweighed by moments of thinking – I can’t believe that this is my life. What a ridiculously wonderful addition to my story.

I love a great day….A day when you wake up, not quite sure what the plans are, not really having any real expectations, and by the end of it all, you find yourself in bed thinking, “wow, how fantastic was that?!” That’s pretty much how things were for Jessica and I the other day, on what is quickly becoming our favorite island…Folegandros.

The day started out fairly regular. We woke up late as usual, which isn’t entirely our fault. We’ve found that during the day, things on Folegandros are quite peaceful, but the spunky Greeks come out at night…and they can be quite loud….all night long. We don’t sleep much here in Folegandros. So this morning, we strolled over to our favorite café…the one with the cute waiter and the best Nutella covered warm donuts, and sat for probably a good two hours. Surprisingly, this has become one of the things I love most about this trip to Greece. I love not feeling rushed, and being able to sit as long as I like at a restaurant or café, not having an agenda, or a list of to do’s, but being able to simply sip a hot drink while enjoying a good book, or writing, or just people watching. These cafes have quite the ambiance going on. Each one is so unique and charming. They could be serving me dog food, and I’d probably still come back for the beautiful setting. No offense to Starbucks or Muggswigs, but you just don’t get that in Ohio.

Now incase you were nervous that I somehow traded in my scrappy, slightly crazy, adventure seeking personality for the calm simple life of a coffee sipping book reader, you have nothing to fear…this is where our day gets really good.

On our first day in Folegandros, Jessica and I went running. We took separate routes, but crossed paths about midway into our run. We were both grinning….a little giddy I guess over seeing for the first time just how beautiful the island was. Jess removed her headphones just long enough to tell me, “We have some adventuring to do!” I knew exactly what she meant. The mountains all around us were practically begging to be climbed and explored. I knew it was only a matter of time before we set off on what I like to call a free climb.

Today was the day.

Now incase you missed it in the above paragraph, it was actually Jessica who first mentioned the idea of “adventure” here on this island….not me. Sometimes I get blamed for a lot of the crazy situations we get ourselves into…and most of the time that is a fair accusation, but despite being the totally chill, laid back Jessica that we all know and love, you should also know that she has quite the spunky, tough, wild side. So even if she claims that things were my idea first (like buying that ridiculous dog raft)…..you can’t always believe her…she’s a crazy one that Jessica, and this was as much her idea as mine…and what a great idea it was.

Back at our place, we packed a bag, and put on our hiking gear. We opted for tennis shoes this time (this was serious, no sandals allowed). We set off walking. Our goal was to find the perfect challenge. We walked out of town a ways, and then spotted it…our mountain. The one we were destined to climb up. We mapped out our route. Turns out getting to the mountain would be quite a challenge in itself…hiking up and over the countless stone fences and thorny bushes that litter the Folegandros landscape was no easy feat, and with me stopping to take pictures every five seconds, it wasn’t very fast either. We finally made it to our mountain, and began to climb. This would be the easiest part of the whole day. Like mountain goats, we scurried up the mountain with ease. At the top we took in the exhilarating view, and claimed the mountain as ours. No, we didn’t pee over the side, but we used the pretty green rocks we found to spell out our names….we’re pretty artsy.

On the way down, we decided to head for the water. This opened up a whole new set of challenges for us. At one point we were climbing sideways along the rocks, sandwiched between two cliffs….It was great:) We did come across a skull, that unfortunately was right next to what Jess called a shear drop off (although in my opinion, it wasn’t that bad), so we had to turn around. The final stretch of our decent to the sea below was a little treacherous. I found myself sliding down the mountain on my back, while Jessica, slower to act, and probably a little bit wiser, found a path. I have to admit to being a little freaked out after my fall, and just a little bit injured, so I was very close to throwing in the towel, and heading for home…this is where I am thankful for my friend. When she asked, “what do you want to do?” and I answered, “I don’t care” (which really meant…ouch, that really hurt, and I want to leave), Jessica said, “Let’s do it”, and so we continued on. I’m so proud of my gutsy friend.

We made it all the way down to the giant rocks, where the waves crash, and it’s as good as watching fireworks. We took off our shoes and socks, and stayed for a while, reading our books, snacking on popcorn, and taking in the show. What an awesome site.

The way back was a little less dramatic. We luckily found a path that weaved us right back to the main village square. We were probably quite a site, all sweaty, dirty, and bloody. It was around 8:00 so we decided to finish the day by watching the sunset from the famous church that sits atop the island…As only the two of us could do, we somehow managed to sit on top of the church….amazing…. a perfect ending to a perfect day.

I had been climbing for a while. It was hot. I was thirsty, and I was pretty sure Jessica was going to be upset with me for leaving for such a long time. But I just had to find this beach. I was on a conquest, and the longer I walked, the more time I invested into this personal challenge (that was now seeming more and more stupid),….the more certain I was of two things. Number one….there’s no way I can stop now, and number 2…I really don’t think the water is going to be way up here. Then the path ended and I did another dumb thing…I continued to climb. Higher and higher…the sensible voice in my head no longer a whisper, but a yell, was screaming…. The beach is not up here you moron!” and also, “hope you like vacationing alone.”

So lets flash back about two hours or so, to a better time. A time when Jessica was still speaking to me.

The morning had been nice. We’d easily caught the local bus back to the port (about 3km away) and had decided to walk to a beach. The guide book said you could do it, so by golly we were going to try. We had a map (not very helpful when it’s in Greek- but I didn’t want you to think we were going at this exploration thing completely unprepared). We asked a cute old man who was sitting out on his porch for directions. (What is it with all these cute old men?) He pointed us in the right direction, and we began to walk. We had our beach stuff with us- towel, ipod, book, snorkel stuff…you know, the essentials. I had opted for a nice little water bottle, so as not to be weighed down by my heavy Nalgene. Who needs water anyways…it was only another 90 degree day here in the Greek Iles where the sky is always cloudless….Man I’m smart when it comes to this survivor stuff. After walking about 15 minutes along the gorgeous coastline, we saw a great beach spot….below us. Not the beach I was looking for, Katergo, but a nice secluded beach, nestled between two giant rocks….very nice. We made our way down and laid out our towels…sharing the spot with only 6 or 7 other people….perfect.

But within 5 minutes I was restless. I wanted to find the beach from the book…supposedly the best beach on Folegandros. I was feeling very Kate like from Lost (ironically she’s the character who in my opinion always does the stupidest things and gets herself into trouble). I took a drink of water, slung my camera bag over my shoulder ( filled with all my survival gear…..my new great camera :)) and set off to scope out the area and report back to Jessica. Now in my defense, we never did specify a time to meet back up, and also….oh who am I kidding, even I would take Jessica’s side on this one. I wasn’t very respectful of the feelings of my travel mate….I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was obsessed, a woman on a mission.

The first part of my journey was so great. I passed a nice beach called Livadi, which probably would have been fine to spend the day at, but next to that sign was another one, pointing the way to Katergo…yes! I turned right instead, and set out along a mainly deserted road completely out in the country. The mountains and fields ahead of me the blue water behind me, and of course the scorching hot sun above me. This part of my adventure was my favorite. There was a breeze, I wasn’t dying of thirst, and I made friends with all kinds of farm animals along the way. Mostly goats who I think are so funny. Also some ugly sheep, and two sweet donkeys. Occasionally a moped would pass, or I’d see a few people working out in their fields, but mainly I was happy to just be by myself, taking in the unique scenery of Folegandros.

Now, I will say, I was a little confused by the way the sign told me to travel. Wasn’t the sea behind me? In front of me was great beauty, but nothing even remotely beach like…we’re talking straight country here. I pushed the thought away and continued to walk, always hoping the beach would be around the next turn. This wasn’t the case, and I was just about to turn around….admitting defeat when God sent me two angels, ok, not angles, but two girls, dressed in beach attire, sunburned, and hallelujah, they spoke English! Conquest still on! They were just at Katergo, and said I was close to the path that would take me there. Well, I wouldn’t say close girls…but thanks for pointing me in the right direction. After going down a few definitely wrong paths, I came to a sign….ok, not a sign, but the word KATERGO written in sidewalk chalk, or maybe a sharpie, in the middle of the road with an arrow pointing up….so that’s where I went. So really if you think about it, I wasn’t doing anything dumb, I was just following someone’s crappy directions.

So the path straight up ended and I kept climbing…positive by this time that there wasn’t going to be a beach at the end of this little fiasco, but just prideful enough to want to make it to the top of the mountain I had been climbing. Now very thirsty, and also very aware of the time, I thought of my friend Jessica sitting on the little beach where I left her, Oh man was I in trouble. I was running now. Dodging little dry bushes with their extremely spiky branches, trying to blaze my own trail to the top. Thank goodness I had slowed a little before reaching my final destination, otherwise I would have fallen straight off the towering cliff to the sea below (sorry for the image mom). I will admit, it takes a lot to scare me, but this did. What a drop off….gorgeous of course….but terrifying. That was that. Conquest over…now about saving that friendship. I took off running down the mountain. Wow, gravity makes you fast :) I slowed just long enough to talk with a couple who pointed me to the right path to the beach. Said thank you, cursed a bit under my breath and continued to run. When I got to the road I took off my shoes, trying to make the run a little more interesting. The animals I had met earlier seemed to now mock me with their bleats and funny looks.

I made pretty good time back to our original beach. Jessica wasn’t too happy with me, and I really wasn’t in the best mood either. Going all that way and still never finding the beach was a little depressing. So I sulked for a good hour or two on the beach. All the while formulating a plan to go back and find Katergo…I just couldn’t let it go. I mustered up some courage to ask Jessica if she wanted to go looking for the beach with me….we hadn’t really been talking much, I assumed she was still a little irritated. She surprised me by saying yes and the two of us packed up our stuff and set off….again…down the dusty country road. This time around I would not be disappointed. After following a not so well marked trail up another mountain, we came to an overlook and spotted way below us the most beautiful beach. Katergo at last!

The walk down to the beach took a while, but the view was breathtaking. Once at the bottom we walked around all the other beach goers (who we later discovered had gotten to this great spot by boat), dodging the topless and the couples….turns out it was a pretty romantic beach. We found the perfect spot and relaxed for a while, taking in our beautiful surroundings. We did go on one mini adventure. We swam out to this huge rock in the middle of the sea and then preceded to climb to the very top of it….we’re pretty tough. My only complaint was how thirsty I was the entire time. Never again will I travel without my trusty Nalgene. The baby water bottle just didn’t cut it. Surprisingly, the trek home went very quickly. We made it back to the port just in time to grab a water and a diet coke and catch the boat back to Hora (that’s what they call the town center).
We ended the day having a Gyro at one of the many outdoor restaurants, and then watching the Bachelorette online. What a great day on Folegandros!

Our time on Santorini wasn’t exactly what we were hoping it would be. I think this island was the backdrop for a movie, maybe the one about the traveling pants. Something has happened recently that has brought some fame to this island, and during our time there, it was clear that it is where the tourists want to be. Let me try to explain our take on Santorini.

It is, without a doubt, beautiful. When you think of Greece, if you picture countless white cube buildings covering the side of a mountain, this is Santorini. The architecture is absolutely impressive. We drove to 2 different towns on this island to explore. Here’s how it works: Neighborhoods spill down over the side of the mountain, and at the top is where shops, restaurants, banks, post offices, etc. are located. So you walk along the ridge at the top and peer over into the mess of houses and hotels. These fit together like puzzle pieces…walkways, stairs, balconies all nestled together. Roofs of one layer of buildings become sitting areas for the layer just above it. We loved this sight.

But here’s what you need to know: There really should be a cap of how many tourists they let in. It is such a maddening mess of cars and scooters and gawking tourists, that it’s a real challenge to appreciate the beauty. My blood pressure has always been shockingly low, and I fear that our time on this island really threw that for a loop. The streets are barely wide enough for two cars. When you’re not driving through a town, you’ve got a drop off down to the ocean on one side of you and when you are driving through a town, you need to understand that you’ll probably take a wrong turn (or lots of wrong turns) that will wind you deep into the tiniest sliver of a road, at which point the only way out is a twelve point turn with the assistance of Sarah standing behind the car, saying – a little more, a little more, STOP! And an audience of about a million tourists passing by. And when you’re not making a twelve point turn, you will find yourself squeezing through streets lined with parked cars. It’s a good thing our rental wasn’t wider by even an inch, or we would have come back minus a mirror.

And the people on Santorini…well they’re just not very nice. Obviously that’s a generalization, but I’m having a hard time remembering anyone we met who didn’t fit that description. At one point we pulled over to ask directions from a lady sitting outside a shop. Susan rolled down her window, and in her very polite voice said – Excuse me, do you speak English? The lady’s response – long drag on her cigarette as she turned her head away from us and raised her cell phone to her ear. And we’re pretty sure she wasn’t even talking on it. Boy did we get the giggles.

So the island seems to be a destination for very high class travelers, and maybe this is why prices were offensively high to us. We were only there for two nights, and I certainly would have had to sell an organ if we had stayed longer. The first night we strolled around and stopped in a tavern that overlooked the water. Again, breathtaking. But it’s really hard to enjoy a view when you’ve just spent $4.00 on a 12 oz. bottle of water and $8.00 on what the menu advertised as toast with ham cheese, and tomatoes, but seemed to be nothing more than a hamburger bun with a slice of bologna. And for a country that boasts such a variety of fresh veggies, the tomatoes were a bit appalling.

A highlight – we hiked to the top of a promontory (bonus points if you know what this word means…we had to look it up…) where a castle used to stand. We loved it. It’s a relatively grueling hike, not long, but a bit treacherous along the way, so the uppity tourists tend to stay away. We only passed a handful of people also doing the hike, one of whom was a man running, blaring Rocky from his headset. He was a real inspiration to us all. I’m not going to say too much about the peak of the promontory, because if Carol is reading this, her heart will start racing. But I will say that you can ask the very scrappy Sarah for a description.

Also – we looooved our accommodations here…completely cozy with a swanky pool.

The Santorini sum up: Completely beautiful, too crowded for our taste, so expensive you might need to cash in your retirement, and really beautiful (I guess I used that one twice. Oh well).

I woke up on a pirate ship today.

That’s the great thing about life, and I know I’ve said this before, but you always have a 50/50 chance of something really awesome happening, and also that same chance that something really crappy will happen.…and you really have no idea which it will be, or even what kind of experiences you’re going to have in a day, or a year, or a lifetime…It’s kind of a crapshoot. You wake up, and BAM, you’re given this amazing gift- 24 hours of unexpected surprises. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be writing a blog that starts with the sentence I woke up on a pirate ship in Greece today, I never would have believed it for a second….Life is pretty exciting eh? But don’t worry if your day hasn’t started off on a pirate ship….tomorrow’s a new day…dream big.

Where was I…..oh yeah, the pirate ship. Now you must understand that with this blog, some things may be a wee bit exaggerated….You see, I’m currently caught up in the middle of this fantastic book of adventure, which means I’ve been thinking in book. If you’ve ever been lucky enough to get sucked into a great read…you may know what I mean. Suddenly, after a few days of reading, I am a main character, and every thought I have is somehow part of my own adventure story that I’m authoring in my head.

The unbelievable settings of Crete have created the perfect backdrop with which to let my imagination run wild. Within the last four days, I’ve been in the middle of a breathtaking Gorge, hopping from rock to rock. I’ve lounged on a beach with water so clear and blue, you’d think you were in a dream. The side streets and people of Hania have enough charm and character to satisfy any type of storyline, and then of course there’s this pirate ship in the middle of the Mediterranean. Seriously, right now, my life is a book.

It’s hard to say how I got in such a predicament, but there I was unable to move…lying on some type of table or bench. My view to the left endless blue sea, above me the large mast of the ship against the brilliant cloudless sky… it’s flag waving fiercely in the wind…taunting me with it’s freedom.

I drifted in and out of conscienceness, rocked by the constant swaying of the boat, vaguely aware of the hot sun burning my exposed legs and arms, and the taste of sea salt on my lips….I was trapped….my only escape would be to somehow jump off the boat and swim to the island of the Kri Kri. My swimming skills were mediocre at best, but it was the jump that worried me most. Both thoughts I pushed from my head, I had no time for fear now…I needed to stay sharp and figure out a way to ……

Now that’s book talk. It’s also lying. Ready for the real story? Ok, you’ve been patient with me and my tangent :)

It’s true. Today I did find myself on a pirate ship (AKA really cool boat looking like a pirate ship), but I wasn’t being held captive. I boarded on my own with my traveling buddies. We made our reservations the day before, during one of our many walks along the harbor. First we passed all of the persistent restaurant owners who wanted our business. (We became known I’m sure as those American girls who always say “no thank you”). Then we picked up about five different flyers from tour companies wanting us to spend the day with them on their boat, snorkeling and swimming. We had lots of options, but in the end, the amazing pirate ship boat won us over and the next day we embarked on our three hour tour…a three hour tour:)

The three of us started out in the very front of the boat, and then made our way to the very top where we discovered three benches surrounding a large table. This quickly became our own private laying out quarters. I felt a little bad about monopolizing such a great spot, but I soon got over that….as Chandler on Friends says, “It’s so hard to care when you’re this relaxed.” I somehow managed to drag myself off that bench twice for snorkeling which wasn’t quite as great as in Hawaii, but of course still a fun time. Oh, and we really did jump off the boat. We made sure the younger kids survived first and then cowabungaed right into the sea….so sweet!

Two side notes: The islands we stopped at were actually just big rocks supposedly home to the kri kri (that’s a goat incase you didn’t know)…I didn’t see any. Also, the free fruit and drink the flyer originally enticed us with wasn’t exactly as advertised. I had a slice of watermelon and a shot of that burning alcohol, which was more than my comrades got.

These trivial things in no way lessened the awesome experience of basking in the Cretan sun atop a ship, skipping across the Mediterranean. Life is full of unexpected surprises, and I am thankful.

This is a title Sarah and I chose, a bit tongue and cheek, because it seems so impossible to describe the beauty that’s surrounding us or the richness of our experiences. But boy did we have a doozey of an experience the other day.

The whole time we were on Crete, we were on the search for the best beach. We did plenty of asking around and agreed to make the hour and a half drive to Elafonisi. Oh. My. Gosh. I have never seen a place like this, and I’m certain that I won’t be able to accurately communicate its beauty through a blog. So just go there some day.

The drive to this beach ends in a winding dirt road that made me a little skeptical about where we would end up. Seems like someone would fancy up the road that leads to a supposed great beach, I thought. Then we crested a hill that overlooked the shore and oh my gosh. That moment truly stands out as one of the greats for me from our trip. Spread out before us was a beach unlike anything I’d ever seen. The water forms its way into several pools, all connected, but each so calm and still. And I’ve never seen so many shades of blue in one body of water. I’ve never been too picky about beach sand – give me a flat lava rock and I’m happy – but I can see why people are suckers for this soft powdery stuff.

So we settled our towels, and I had to just stand around for awhile to take it all in. This is the best way I can think of to explain just how wonderful this place is: Sarah and I took a walk in the water (which stays below hip level in the pools closest to shore and is still and refreshing) and talked about how people pay $500 a night to stay at places with beaches like this. We couldn’t get over that we had been allowed to just drive up and camp out for the day. And for the rest of the day, I kept thinking about how I live a middle class life, which I consider such a privilege, and this was a place so beautiful that only people who make more money than I’ll ever understand should be allowed in. And I’m so grateful that it’s just a public beach that anyone can see, and that it’s beautiful, not because some resort has manicured it, but because it seems relatively untouched since the day God created it. What an honor to laze in such a new kind of beauty for a day.

…an interesting tidbit – The day after our beach visit, Susan and I were talking to a jewelry maker in a shop right around the corner from our studio (who, incidentally, is one of the dreamiest hunks I’ve ever seen). I gushed to him about Elafonisi and asked him if he’d ever been there. He said he has, but there are other beaches far better. These beaches aren’t accessible by car. You have to walk an hour or two to reach them, but it’s totally worth it. It’s hard for me to imagine a beach more breathtaking than Elafonisi, but again, I was so deeply grateful that there is so much beauty tucked away, and that sometimes a journey is required that makes the experience all the richer.

To be completely honest – we visited this beach on a really windy day, winds that only picked up throughout the day, stirring up the previously calm waters. At one point, I took the hotdog back to the car to ensure its safety. When we had finished swimming and snorkeling, we laid on the beach forever. This is when about a pound of sand found its way into my hair. I’m still finding traces of it. And that night when I crawled into bed with my book, I opened it up, which spilled a layer of sand on my bed. BUT – no complaints. I’ve had days in my life that have been a real surprise – days that far surpass any expectations I’ve had. I hope you’ve had these days too…they’re such a gift and inspiration. And this day at Elafonisi – a very pretty place – fits right in that category.

Greetings to Jessica and Sarah’s fan base. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Susan, the quiet young lady who has been lurking at many of your functions (Jay and Wendy’s shower, Sarah and Jessica’s party, etc.) but who you may not have actually met. I’m the girl who found out about the trip and said, “Sounds fun, can I come… pretty please?” And luckily for me it would be super awkward to say no, so here I am in Greece!
I would like to write a little about a topic that has consumed my attention for a lot of the trip: my feet. Yes, that’s right. I had such a difficult time deciding how to pack shoes. How many should I bring? What colors? What type? I didn’t want to be uncomfortable. So I ended up with 6 pairs which equaled the number of Sarah’s and Jessica’s combined even though I’m spending less than half the time in Greece that they are. And wouldn’t you know it? Despite my best planning, after two days I was uncomfortable.
No matter what shoes I decided to wear, after any significant amount of walking, they started to rub somewhere. Cruelly, the only shoes that didn’t rub my apparently delicate, sensitive feet were my dressy black sandals with heels. I had band-aids all over my feet and started thinking I might need some type of bandage that fits over my entire foot to prevent friction. Then I realized they have such a thing…it’s actually called a sock.
The condition of my feet caused me quite a bit of anxiety as we began planning our hike at Samaria Gorge. This particular gorge is the longest in Europe, and the 11 mile hike through it is a must-do for any visitor to Crete who is physically able. Our tour book boasts that the Samaria Gorge is “the most spectacular landscape in Crete,” but it also describes the hike through it as “tortuous.” The trail is steep and rocky making it easy to lose your footing. It drops 3,280 feet within the first mile. At certain points, the trail squeezes between two towering rock walls that are only 10 feet apart.
I was a basket case as the day of the hike approached. How was I going to manage this with my feet in this condition? My tennis shoes were old and worn and lacked support (After a ridiculous amount of thought I had decided I didn’t want to bring a good pair). Plus, I’m a bit more of a hmmm…what shall I say… perhaps more nervous traveler than what Sarah and Jessica are. As I told them, I’m just not used to looking for things to climb in and on and up when I’m on vacation. And after all, as I reminded them several times, people have died in Samaria Gorge.
The day started by Sarah awakening Jessica and I and informing us that we had an issue with our alarm clock (lousy wrist watch) and that we didn’t wake up in time. We had to start the hike early so we could finish in time to catch the last ferry to Omalos, where we would then catch a bus to Chania where we were staying. At first I felt relief. I don’t have to do it. And then I realized that meant another day of nervous anticipation. After a little discussion and time math, we reached the conclusion that if we hurried we could still catch the 8:30 bus to the gorge and complete the hike in enough time.
We arrived at the bus station just in time, bought our tickets, and hopped on board. Before long the bus was climbing through the mountains on windy, narrow roads. I removed my shoes and began applying salve and bandages in preparation. And at last we had arrived.
I was about 45 minutes into the hike when I realized, hey I can do this. Sure, the thought that I might die never completely left my mind, but it was tucked very deeply in the back, so I almost didn’t know it was there. We did see many spectacular sights that day. Some other highlights included meeting a couple from Pittsburgh PA on the trail, getting in trouble by the national park staff for lingering in a dangerous area of the trail to pose for silly pictures, and Jessica giving me a tutorial so that I could use a “squatty potty” for the very first time. I even found myself taking on the role of encourager at times. For example, when Jessica insisted after we stopped to eat our peanut butter sandwiches for lunch that she find a comfortable rock to lay on for a nap, I advised her not to do it…too risky. It may be too difficult to get going again. (Just for the record, I’m still against the idea, but she swears it was helpful.)
Finally after several hours, we found our way out of the gorge and completed the hike. We stopped to buy freshly squeezed orange juice at a roadside stand. We were hot, tired, and dirty, but we also had a sense of pride and accomplishment. And I only had 3 new blisters which wasn’t too bad for an entire day of fun.

I woke up at 6:15 this morning, definitely not on purpose. My watch alarm that failed to go off yesterday when we needed to catch an early bus to the gorge decided to work on our sleep in day. Not a problem, I was able to go back to bed, and woke much later to a medley of Celine Dion hits and Bruce Springstein’s Born in the USA. Not really what I would expect to hear coming from our charming little side street in Hania. It’s been pretty much the only thing American I’ve come across lately (besides our car radio which plays both American and Greek techno jams). I am relieved. I’m really loving being immersed in another country, and not just Greece but with so many other countries and languages represented here, I feel like I’m getting a complete European experience.

We took our time getting ready for the day and then headed out to the town’s Thursday market. We walked the length of the street, taking in the variety of sights, sounds, and smells…buying from the sellers that looked nice and old :). We were not disappointed by our choices. Everyone we purchased from was so kind and seemingly sincere. We bought fresh vegetables and fruit, and even a Speedo for a friend. We have big plans to squeeze our own fresh orange juice, something that is sold often here in Greece. I already have a feeling where this endeavor might go……:)

We are now at one of our favorite cafés. It happens to be right at the end of our street Angeloy, a few short steps from our studio. Its location is perfect, giving us the quiet local atmosphere that we want, along with views of both a narrow side street and the harbor. The owner is a sweet older man with a friendly smile and a nice thick accent. He serves the best ham and cheese toast and of course ice cold frappes. Today I abandoned my frappe challenge (that sure didn’t take long) and opted for the cold chocolate drink, which is like chocolate milk, only 100 times better. I’m pretty sure the Greeks have some kind of magic dust they sprinkle on all their food to make it taste so delicious.

While at our café, we met a Scottish couple and chatted with them for quite a while. They were so interesting. During our conversation they recommended a great beach for us to try for the day. We got to the beach around 2:00. By Ohio laying out standards this would be quite appalling. I’ve always heard that prime sun time is between 11:00 and 2:00. Apparently in Europe they are either less vain, and don’t care too much about getting the perfect tan, or they are just way smarter and don’t feel like scorching out in the afternoon sun. The beach was the busiest at 5:00….crazy.

With any other “beach day” blog entry, I would probably mention the clean sand, the warm bath water, my saltwater swim, and the walk to get ice cream. You know, the basic stuff. All very nice, but nothing really that interesting or memorable. This beach trip included all of that, but with an added bonus…..Wait for it………We got rafts! What do you mean you’re disappointed?? Do you know how great a raft can be on a hot day at the beach?? It makes all the difference. It’s like adding jelly to your peanut butter, or chocolate syrup to your ice -cream. It’s awesome to have a raft at the beach. No more baking in the hot sand. Now all of the “bronzing” can be done in complete comfort, just lounging on hot pink inflatable plastic. Still not impressed huh? Well, what if I told you that along with the hot pink and neon green regular rafts, we also managed to shove an inflatable hotdog into the back seat of our car and take it to the beach as well??…Now I have your attention. If you were thinking hotdog, the kind you eat on a bun with ketchup, then you would be sorely mistaken. I’m talking about a big dog dressed in a hotdog suit. It doesn’t get much funnier than that my friends. Now for my older much more mature readers, you may want to stop reading now (or maybe you already have), and refer back to an early more respectable blog entry like our day at the Acropolis or Jessica’s entry about Delphi (I consider those to be our responsible days).

Ok, so about this hotdog. I really should let Jessica tell the story. After all it is her dog.

Susan, Sarah, and I have been trying out different beaches. Yesterday morning we sat next to the most lovely Scottish couple in our favorite café. They recommended a beach they had visited, so we made it our goal for the day. It’s just outside our town and we really did love it. On the drive there I pulled over at a shop clearly geared toward those headed to the beach. We had decided to buy some cheap rafts to take with us. The sea is so calm here, so you can’t really play in waves, but it’s great to float around in. I told Sarah and Susan that I would double check directions while they looked at rafts. This is where my day really started to fall apart. In retrospect, this is also a moment that shows me just how much power Sarah has over me. She and Susan each bought a humble raft for the low price of 2.50. This is just what we were looking for. Something that would last for the beach, but that we would feel ok about not toting around with us. I, on the other hand, made a terrible purchase. At Sarah’s sly prompting, I spent 8.50 on a very high quality and very giant inflatable hotdog. I loved it in the store, but at the beach I quickly realized that it is not a very useful hotdog. I was desperately trying to justify my purchase by showing its many uses to Susan and Sarah. On its second use, propping my feet up on it, I fell backwards into the water, at which point a sizely portion of salt lodged itself in the middle of my head. I mostly just drape my arms over it and float around. And the worst part is that its quality is far superior to that of the rafts, so I can’t just ditch it. I’ll need to take it with me all through Greece. So when we get to the very classy Santorini, you will be able to find me lounging in our swanky hotel pool atop my hotdog.


So we left the beach around 7:30 and didn’t return home until around 8:00 or so. Mostly because traffic in Hania becomes crazy in the evening, and also on account of the elves that like to come and rearrange the side streets when we are away, just to keep us guessing.

We had reservations at 9:30 for Tamam, a restaurant suggested by our Scottish friends. We walked down to the harbor area and had the best meal with a killer atmosphere and plenty of Greek food and wine. I ordered baby shark, partly because fish is suppose to be good for you, and it seemed like the thing to get when you’re on the sea, but mostly because it sounds kind of awesome :) Jessica had grape leaves and a Cretan salad and Susan had Moussaka. We ended the meal with free shots of what Jess refers to as Gummy Bear juice from our cute curly headed server and this coconut desert. It was the perfect end to wonderful day in Hania.

A lot of people, when commenting on our facebook pictures, have mentioned that it looks like we’re having so much fun. Yes, of course we are. But please know that we’re also doing some very responsible tourist things. We’ve already reported about our trip to the Acropolis. As if that’s not impressive enough, the very next day we went on a private tour to a museum, a monastery, and Delphi.
Sarah booked a tour for us with the famous taxi driver George. From what we could gather, he’s a very reputable tour guide who drives you around in his Mercedez and offers a wealth of historical information. We were pretty excited to meet George and see what all the fuss is about. Sarah walked down from our hotel to meet him and said, “You must be George.” And he replied, “No, I’m Tony.” So now we’re wondering just who this George is. Does Sarah’s greeting compare to walking into a Wendy’s and assuming that the girl behind the counter is Wendy herself? Oh well. Tony won us over pretty quickly, despite the time he spread out a map across the dash to show us where we were headed. Eyes on the road, Tony. His knowledge of Greek history seems endless. If we were in the car, he was talking. Well, I guess I can’t know for sure because I kept falling asleep in the backseat. I worked really hard at each site to learn a lot and show that I am really interested in this stuff. I just get tired sometimes.
Early on in our drive Tony mentioned Alexander the Great. Alexander the Great is one of those guys whose name is familiar, but my knowledge of him is actually very vague. I asked Tony what time period Alexander was from, and he decided to take us to a museum built near a battlefield from Alexander’s conquest. We saw a lot of old stuff there.
We all loved our next stop – the monastery. Over 300 monks used to live there, but now it is inhabited by only three. This is the kind of place you just want to get locked in at night so you can really explore….so many nooks and crannies and stone walls and steps. The cathedral was ornate, and the landscape was so naturally still…a beautiful combination.
Delphi was the main reason for our tour. At some point, you know in history, this spot was believed to be the center of the world. People would travel here to consult the oracle as a way of communicating with Apollo. It takes quite awhile to walk through this area, and it’s built into the side of a mountain, so it was a strenuous walk at times. Some highlights – Sarah told me to do a yoga pose on a rock podium, so I tried to, but then was asked to step off of the very ancient piece of history. Woops. Sarah and I did some dancing on an ancient stage…pretty crowd pleasing. And we visited the museum on site where the three of us got a case of the giggles. I could feel the curators eyeing us, so we had to leave before we lost all control.
The near purse snatching: It was our first night in Athens. On our ride from the airport, the cab driver showed us which street to look down to see the Parthenon. What a moment of – Oh my gosh we’re actually here. He also told us that it was a 15 minute walk from our hotel. After checking in, we decided to take the walk.
Something else you need to know to fully understand this story – Sarah is pretty accustomed to carrying a large purse that is really more of a satchel. It’s a great bag, but she bought a snappy new little thing for our trip. It’s a great size to slide just the essentials into, or you can slide the whole purse into a satchel and it seems more like a wallet. It’s a great purse for our trip.
So we had walked all of two blocks from our hotel’s front door and were waiting at a light. Also near this light was some punk kid. He eyed Sarah’s purse, ran over, and grabbed a hold of it. Poor little dear. He didn’t know who he was messing with. Sarah is quick and maybe part cat. She snatched her purse right back. But that punk kid broke the strap. A little disappointing, but not like it could have been, I guess. Welcome to Athens, girls.
For those of you who think I don’t live enough in the realities of the world, we did check around a bit to see if purse snatching is something we need to look out for. Does not seem to be a common thing as far as we can tell. Little fella, if you had asked me for some money, I might have given it to you.

I thought, given the fact that I have been labeled the picky one when it comes to food, that it would be fitting for me to write a little section on the Greek cuisine I’ve encountered so far, and my initial thoughts. Let me first tell you my blogging location- It’s a harbor side café…..not really a shocker to anyone who knows the general Hania scene. Hania is actually a larger city in Crete, but “old town” is something straight from a movie. It has a huge Venetian influence which is so evident in the narrow stone streets (perfect for exploring and picture taking), quaint side shops, and a sea side harbor with fishermen, boats, and of course an abundance of café’s with the most incredible views, soft chairs and couches…..you could hang out at one of these cafes probably for the whole day just people watching. There is such a laid back feel here. No one hurries, no one rushes, it’s like someone hit a slow motion button…I love it. In fact on my first run here, I felt a little awkward, moving faster then anyone….almost going against the Hania style. Even though the location is geared towards accommodating the tourist, I have never felt like I’m in a tourist location- mostly because everyone here whether on vacation or not, is from a different country. Don’t get the wrong impression. I would still say Hania is the real deal- authentically Greek- Not lacking in the Greek language, the gorgeous Greek people :) and yes, the Greek food…..how’s that for a segway ?

Here are some things we’ve noticed. First, we’ve learned that the Greeks aren’t really big breakfast people. Their biggest meal is lunch and they usually wait to have dinner- usually not until 9 or 10. We’re not really big on following that tradition exactly. We do the breakfast thing. I’ve had a strawberry crepe two times already…..oh so good. The best thing though is the fact that people here are ok with having deserty things for breakfast. For instance, Susan’s breakfast the first day was fruit…with ice cream, and the second day, a waffle with chocolate, Nutella, and ice cream. Both items straight off the menu. Wow, my kind of place! You should also know that I am currently drinking coffee….Yep, you heard me right…..It’s called a Frappe. It’s a cold drink and yes it really does taste like coffee. Do I like it? Honestly? No, of course I don’t like it, it’s coffee for crying out loud…I can’t stand coffee….However, I’m making it my food challenge for the trip to have one a day. I really think I can learn to like it. (special note- I also wanted to try flossing my teeth everyday here too….last night my travel floss ran out…..oh well, what can you do J) Stay tuned for forced frappe drinking updates :).

Usually we forget about lunch- very un -Greek. I think we’re just been so distracted by how great our days are, that we just don’t think about it. Dinner has been a little random lately. Mostly peanut butter sandwiches for me, eggs for Jessica, fruit for all- The fruit here is really tasty, especially the peaches in my opinion. We visited the grocery store last night to pick up a few things….that experience was a little interesting. I have to admit I was a kind of grouchy- it was late, and I was really hungry and tired, a bad combination. Any other time, I think I really would have loved looking at all the unique, unreadable packaging, and just enjoying being apart of a normal everyday Greek experience…but this time my focus was on finding pancake mix……they don’t have that. And FYI you’re suppose to weigh your fruit before you get to the checkout…that was a very time consuming mistake. Luckily for me this sweet Greek guy noticed me very confused staring at the scale. Without saying a word he came to my rescue and hit all the buttons for me.
We have had a lot of Greek food. Most of the time I make Jessica order it first, and then I just try hers…she’s a pretty good sharer.

I had a Greek salad the other day…..really good. There’s no lettuce in it, which I think is different than in the states, and the feta which I purposely avoided, is placed on top of the salad in really big blocks. Feta is something I’ve always said I don’t like, but have never really given a fair shot…..maybe I’ll give it a chance here in Greece. I ate something called souvlakia (really just chicken) and tried some of Susan’s Moussaka and Jessica’s Yogurt and honey thing, which I think is really crème cheese ….not sure if I will be ordering any of those things myself, but I am trying stuff, so that should count for something. They do have multi grain cheerios….score.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you, on our first day here- we were looking for our studio, a supposedly easy task that turned into a three hour combination of both driving and walking. We asked directions from a lot of locals (when I say a lot I mean like 10 or so) who either stared at us blankly or attempted to give us directions in Greek using a lot of expressive hand gestures. Our favorite helpful local happened to be this cute older man who owns a little bodega- which I thought was a lot like a small gas station that also sold local food. When giving directions he spoke English (rough English) and then whipped out some paper and wrote things down in Greek. The three of us exchanged looks and tried to hide our smiles…it was kind of hilarious. Another man jumped in on the direction giving fun and the two of them choreographed a little routine that went like this- “first you go straight, and then to the right and then your gonna take another right…straight, right, and then another right- complete with hand motions and thick accents. They did their little routine at least three times. It worked and we were able to find Iason Studios at last.

What does that have to do with food? Went off on a little tangent just to let you know that this charming Greek man and his Bodega has been a nice little food source for us. # one because he’s so nice, finding time to draw us maps (labeled in Greek) and give us his opinions on where to visit in Crete, and his views on the recent struggles of the country, and #2 because his stuff is so cheap. Nothing like food at a gas station in the states. Our first purchase was a total of 2,40E and that was for quite a lot of things. What a deal.

A final thought about the food and drink here in Greece. It seems customary to give alcohol as a welcoming gift. Our first rental car (which starts by using a card p.s.) was given to us complete with a bottle of white wine in the driver’s cup holder, and when we arrived at our studio, sitting on our table was a tray with fruit, nuts, chocolate, and this glass tea cup filled with an unknown drink that was so strong I think I may have permanently burned my esophagus….I like it :)…..Opah!

Some things you should know if you’re planning to travel through Greece (which you definitely should be planning by now…):

1) Sit in a café everyday and have a frappe. I spotted frappes at nearly every café we passed early on, and I’m a sucker for getting sucked into a new culture, so my interest was peaked. My travel book says a frappe is just instant coffee served cold, but I don’t believe that for a second. That does not sound like a good idea to me. And a frappe tastes more like the strong bitterness of coffee perfectly juxtaposed with sugar crystals, mixed with the tears an angel has shed for joy and maybe some nectar from an enchanted flower. I didn’t try one until my 4th day here and am significantly heartbroken that I missed 3 days of this love affair.
2) If you go to a beach that is at least somewhat secluded, you’ll probably see some naked. I haven’t seen anything offensive, nor do I anticipate this, but I’ve definitely seen plenty of naked.
3) In most places, flushing toilet paper is a no no. Be sure to check for a sign in the restroom, or WC. Also be sure to exercise caution when adding your used toilet paper to the mound that is building up in the trashcan near the toilet. Also be sure to send out some good thoughts for whoever it is that empties that trashcan.
4) Greeks tend to have perfect coloring and striking features. You’ll want to prepare yourself for your first case of the smittens. Say you’re driving down the street, looking for your first accommodation on an island, and you stop at a café to ask for directions. You’ll need to work very hard to listen to the directions when gazing back at you is the most perfectly beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. And I don’t typically go for tall, dark, and handsome. Hmmmm…maybe I could go back…maybe he’s a regular there…
5) Women – if you are over 50 (and Greek) – you can dress as if you are 20, and somehow get away with it. You might notice a woman about to cross the street and think to yourself – Wow, crazy cool outfit. Look at those heels. – And then she turns around and you think – Way older than my mom. - And even though this woman somehow looks fantastic, you’re really glad your mom doesn’t dress this way. And then you might miss your mom a little. Hi Mom!!
6) Driving – oh my. If you have been nervous about our well being, stop reading here. Drivers here tend to be…something that means a combination of assertive and efficient and terrifying, but not at all rude. Picture a street that is lined with parked cars on both sides. The cars are mostly small and European. Some are parked in the direction that traffic is flowing in that lane, and some are facing the opposite direction. This will give you regular, but very brief freakouts that you are driving the wrong way down a one-way street. If this is in fact the case, a very large truck might beep at you as the driver shouts Greek out his window. Peal off to the right the first chance you get, and when you realize that you’ve turned onto yet another one-way, going the wrong way, take off your straw cowboy hat at Sarah’s request just in case the Greeks are saying to each other, “Watch out for that crazy lady in the cowboy hat. She’s crazy.”

Are the streets here one lane or two?? Who really knows? Does it really matter? Always keep a lookout to the left because the driver behind you might wish to be driving faster than a tourist, in which case the road is definitely now two lanes as he passes you on the left. This is both assertive and efficient, and never seems rude. And sometimes seems terrifying. And if there is also a scooter on the road (and there will be, because we’ve seen about a billion), it might squeeze between you and guy passing on the left. Everyone seems to function well in this system, so stay sharp. Get a good navigator in the passenger seat and remember that this is not your time to sight see. Gawking at a beautiful beach or mountain backdrop might mean that you take out the father and baby in a stroller who dart out between parked cars to cross the street right in front of you. Don’t worry, nothing happened. I’m sharp.