Tag Archives: beach

The days all seem to run into one another here… time just passes (I’m reminded of the French term, “écouler”, as in “le temps s’écoule”) and before I know it, another week has passed, I feel like I’ve done so much, and yet nothing at all.

As I look at the calendar and realise we’re only here for 11 more days, an odd feeling begins to brew in my belly. The thought of leaving behind the last 3 months’ worth of experiences is a little daunting… the realisation that reality is awaiting me back in Toronto, is settling in like an uneasy dream. It’s not that there’s anything in particular to dread about returning home… in fact, I’m quite looking forward to seeing all my good friends whom I’ve by necessity neglected this summer, and with WEMF 2011 happening the second weekend after we return, not to mention summer in Toronto (my favourite time in the city – in fact, the only season I really enjoy in the city – considering the fact that spring and fall no longer exist), the new client possibilities that settling back in at home mean for me, and numerous other things that are wonderful about having a home base.

Despite all this, however, there’s a twinge of something in my belly. I’m not sure what it is – perhaps it’s apprehension about the coming school year I have yet to fully commit to, or uncertainty about what living in a bachelor apartment with a (very trusted, very much wonderful) partner will be like (we’ve survived 3 months in rooms 1/2-1/3rd smaller than the apartment, but now we look forward to another 10 or so months in such conditions, depending on how things go), or maybe just plain old regret at having to stop doing the thing I love the most (traveling, exploring) and buckling down for yet another long, cold, dark, depressing winter in Toronto, the season in which all refuse to go out to and do anything fun because, *puts on whiny voice* it’s too cooold, I’m tiiiired, I can’t afford it, I didn’t get to the gym at ALL this week, I have to go to WORK tomorrow, wha whaaaaaa life’s soooo haaaaarrrrd, I’m gonna make up any excuse so I can sit at home and feel sorry for myself in the darkness… ugh… the burden of it weighs me down even now, in this sunny, beautiful climate where it never rains, and it’s always warm enough to go out in a short skirt and tank top, and, unless you’re wearing red or showing your belly button, you won’t get stared down and called Whore!.

But enough about my impending doom – I mean, returning home. It’s time to talk about the strangeness that is Crete. It is both wonderful and gritty, at times welcoming, at others egregiously rude towards whites (perhaps just North American whites – in particular, Americans, but the people never can tell a Canadian from an American one and often don’t soften up until you say you’re from Canada, which usually doesn’t come up in the first place). Greece doesn’t have quite the same inherent dichotomy of rich and poor that makes third world countries such interesting, and often harrowing, places to visit, but it does have its own long list of positives and negatives. While I’ve only been on Crete here, and can’t really speak for the rest of the country, I have seen enough to understand that life is not all that easy for the locals, but there’s a certain ease to the slower pace (which isn’t all that apparent when you visit Heraklion, a very built up, extremely busy city on the island) and of course the beautiful waterfronts across the island and the rustic charm of the buildings here that can make things a little more palatable for the locals.

You begin to get an idea of the slow pace of life here when you head out for dinner in one of the local traditional Greek restaurants. Little did we realise when we sat down that first evening that from the very first moment of opening that menu, all the way down to the free desserts and 3 shots of raki (each) we didn’t order (and never do), that dinners here would regularly take 2 to 3 hours each. We did this about five times before growing a bit bored with the whole thing (and before I realised I didn’t need three shots of hard liquor, no matter how free, on top of two glasses of wine throughout the dinner to finish off, with the result of me passing out nearly immediately after every time), and we’ve since decided to get take-out (still traditional Greek food, usually) and eat in our hotel room, on a more frequent basis.

I’ve had plenty of time to relax on the beach. Perhaps knowing I’m here for a month has spoilt me a litlte, as I spend only about an hour a day out there. However, it’s because I know I’m not just here for 6 days and therefore must spend every second by the water; because it’s much too hot and I don’t wish to turn a deep, lobster red before returning home (a light caramel colour will do just fine, thank you very much); because I’ve client work to do, and knitting to finish up… and I also don’t like the bikini rash one gets from having wet bottoms on all day. Despite this, the water is a second home to me. I love to relax in the calm waters in the morning, at times swimming quickly, others more slowly, and still others just floating and letting the waves take me where they will. I’ve been swimming since I was a baby, and I’ve always loved it… the way the sounds of the world mute as you dip your head beneath the surface… the way your body glides through the substance, the way the currents of warm and cool water alternate across your skin, the way your hair dances around your head and tickles your scalp as you lay suspended in the aquatic world; the way your back, when you relax with your head all the way back, rights itself and all your pain trickles out of it because gravity is no longer battling with you. I hate pools because they are filled with discarded human skin and other bodily excretions I shan’t mention, as well as chemicals galore. But natural bodies of water, being so huge, have a way of rinsing themselves, as the streets of a city are cleared of human imprints during a thunderstorm – I trust Mother Nature’s work far more than I do that of humans… and so I don’t mind spending hours dancing and swirling away in an ocean, a sea, or even a lake. I have, at times, feared sharks, but we did some research and found out that in Crete, particularly, despite there being Great Whites in the area, there’s never been a shark attack. So it’s not something that sits in the forefront of my mind as I relax into the waves.

We will certainly return to the 3-hour dinners, once Misha’s done with his school this Friday, and I’ve got some bit of client work out of the way. At that point, we will have but 9 more days left, and surely by then we will both be itching to take full advantage of our remaining free time here.

We’re planning an overnight trip to Santorini, and I’m certain this will be a most beautiful way to end our journey in Europe this summer. We’re both looking forward to it, and I’m sure I’ll be bursting with things to say about it upon my return.