An Adventure on Crete: The Land that Brought Me Back to Life

I’m on a little ferry heading to one of my favorite places on earth. You can only get here by boat or by hiking a long hot, arduous, rocky trail in the cliffs. No thanks. It's a precious little treasure on the island of Crete we discovered in 2019. We included it in our Cretan Art Retreat as “Magical Mystery Day.” We didn't tell anyone what we were doing or where we were going, but just to pack their sketchbook and wear their swimsuit. I’m incredibly excited to get to come back here again.

The boat is loaded with Greeks piled on top of each other, all talking at once about various topics, but mostly family. Few tourists know about this place, and I’m trying to figure out why so many people are on this boat. I realize it is Sunday, but didn't realize it is “Holy Spirit Day” or Pentecost, until Steve, our friend, mentioned it.

Now I have dread and fear that we won't get an umbrella once we land. It is pretty hot, and Steve’s wife, Tony, burns to a crisp in seconds without an umbrella. Once you get off the boat, you are stuck all day until the boat returns, so an umbrella is crucial. I tell Steve, who is mild-mannered and very polite, that his one job in life right now is to get Tony an umbrella. I tell John too just in case.

I have fought Greeks for umbrellas before and thus far have never won the battle. I’m counting the people and trying to remember how many umbrellas there are on the beach. It seems hopeless, and I wonder if we should even get off the boat. There is a little taverna high up on the cliff and caves, so there are at least places to get out of the sun. I feel responsible since this was all my idea. I should have known it was Holy Spirit Day and we could have gone on a Tuesday while everyone was at work.

Operation Secure the Shade

We get close to the cove where this amazing place is located, and all the Greeks start to stand up despite the captain urging them to sit, pushing their way to the exit to make certain they will get an umbrella. I have totally lost hope that we will prevail in the umbrella war and am already thinking of Plan B. I’m scouring the beach for trees or shrubs or overhangs that could serve as shade. Worst case scenario we can sit in the taverna with a nice view and sketch.

John and Steve are in the bottom middle of the pack as we disembark. I watch the whole crowd of beachgoers walk/run to the umbrellas and throw their stuff down to make claim. I see every empty umbrella get full within seconds.

John is heading straight to the back, way up the hill far from the water in hopes of finding an empty one. He looks like he might actually do it, until a little dachshund jumps at him, barking and nipping at his heels. John breaks focus and is trying to fend off the dachshund. The Greek lady who owns the dog is yelling at the dog, and more umbrella seekers pass John by. But then Steve outflanks all of them in a slow, steady advance and gets within reach of the very last two umbrellas in the far back corner. He stands tall between them until John gets there.

My heart leaps in delight! We are saved! I tell Tony, “They got umbrellas! We will live!!” I can't believe it. We actually got two umbrellas and four lounge chairs. After the hot boat ride and all this stress, I am ready for a swim.

Where the Sea Meets the Soul

Although it is incredibly crowded, I am so thrilled to be here, and all the memories flow back to me. The water is cool and crisp and clear enough to see every detail of every rock 30 feet below. Every breaststroke makes me feel more and more alive.

Nothing compares to the water here in Greece. It is some ancient recipe for long life and vitality. It's like the water is charged with something otherworldly that brings you back to yourself and why you even live.

I swim out a ways and begin to pass by the numerous caves that line the cliffs and gaze at the incredible abstract art made by thousands of years of water, rock, sun, and wind. Raw umber lines traverse each rock in a curvaceous pattern that speaks mysteries and truths. I am undone again in the perfection of nature where the sea meets the rock in an eternal marriage that lines every coastline of all 2,000 islands of this remarkable country. My mind can hardly fathom where I get to be this day as I receive this baptism back into life.

A Table at the Edge of the World

Greeks like to eat lunch at 3 or 4 o'clock, so we decide to go to the taverna when it's empty at around 1pm. We get a prime table right by the edge to observe the incredible view from above. I remember this taverna fondly and that the food was outstanding. But as time rewrites events in our mind, I’m suspicious that I have an inflated memory of the food. I’m bracing myself for disappointment.

As I look at the menu, I remember they have a signature dish of Crete Sfakia pies, which come from the nearby village called Sfakia. They are kind of like Greek quesadillas, but they have sheep milk Cretan cheese inside a grilled crepe with honey. They have another dish called Boureki, which is like Greek scalloped potatoes, with fresh herbs and zucchini and cheese. We also order calamari, Greek salad, and souvlaki.

Our Greek feast arrives quickly with a table full of Alfa on draft. I am continually amazed at how quickly the food is prepared here in Greece from their tiny, not-so-commercial kitchens with only one chef—usually mama—and her helper. The food is even better than I remember it, and a dream begins to form in my heart. I remember that this place has some apartments up on this cliff by the taverna you can rent and stay here in the secluded place. I imagine renting a boat instead of a car for a week or 10 days and staying here with Zion and his little sibling and my family next summer.

Fed by Wonder

Of course the restaurant sends us off with a raki before we go. Raki is the distilled grape skin drink they serve here morning, noon, and night when you both come and go from anywhere. You cannot come to Crete without drinking at least 15 shots of raki throughout your trip. But if you like it, you can drink as much as you want beyond the obligatory shots. They say they drink it for their digestion…

After lunch, Tony and I defy the “no swimming after you eat” rule. I grab my mask, and we go out for an adventure. Just when our day couldn't get any better, I’m again brought to life looking through my mask at the mysterious world below. I see the striped fish rummage through the rocks foraging and the electric lines of light create a webbed pattern all around me. I am convinced it is this criss-cross light pattern that charges the water with life abundant, the Greek sea water where I can never have my fill.

Tony and I spend over an hour exploring the caves and taking pictures to preserve the memories we are creating. Steve is meanwhile hiking the famous gorge that begins at this beach, and we know he will be gone passed the 4 o'clock boat back. I am grateful we will miss our boat. I don't want the day to end.

Where the Light Never Leaves You

There are loads of Greek children here jumping from boats and paddle boards, living their best life. They have this constant connection with nature and the sea and the cliffs and the herbs and the natural food. It is in their everyday existence. They have their mamas and their grandmothers cooking for them, and they eat fresh fish and vegetables almost every day. Their homes are minutes from the sea, and they live in the most travelled to and desired destination on earth, yet they don't even know what they have. Many are raised to seek higher education and leave their country in pursuit of a lucrative career as doctors and engineers abroad.

Yet I come here to revitalize and invigorate. I am working with a steady and constant determination to own land and a home here one day. This land is special and profound. Its ancient drums beat into my soul a rhythm of an exuberant life I can barely describe in words. It calls to me constantly wherever I am. I see the sea and its light and crystal blue prisms in perfect clarity like a permanent tattoo on my mind. Greece is in my heart and will never leave.

We all have a passion that imprints itself on our soul. We all have places or moments that bring us back to ourselves.

Find what it is that makes you feel alive. When the passion comes and takes your breath away, don't let go. Rig your life and stack the odds in your favor to get to live it often. Revisit your passion and that which stirs your soul into a sublime energy that sustains you. This is your vitality. This is the fuel behind your dreams that give your life purpose. It is what keeps you going with gladness year after year. Nurture it, protect it, and keep it ever present.

What is the place or activity or purpose that makes you feel alive?