My Big Fat Cretean Experience

I. Love. Crete.

I think I've probably made you all extremely jealous just by going there, because face it, you SHOULD be jealous.  It is that awesome.

When I left Verdun at the beginning of vacances, it was snowing and I had to drag my suitcase through ankle-deep, digusting white stuff...

But enough about snow. The trip there was mostly without hiccups.  We got stuck in front of the emergency exit on the plane and the stewardesses kept yelling at us in Greek to keep our stuff off the floor (when everyone else was clearly stowing their luggage under the seats.  They didn't even let us keep our purses! sheesh).  It was only when the plane landed that I figured out why.

We were lucky enough to stay with an American family, whose friend picked us up from the airport (the situation was a little complicated).  At the house, we met up with our friend Veronica and cooked dinner (Greek bottled wine isn't bad).

We woke to the sound of the rooster crowing in the backyard and the prospect of Greek yogurt for breakfast (the rooster had actually been crowing all night, but I digress).

I ran out onto the porch, barefoot, and took in the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the lemon tree right before my eyes.  I reached out and touched a lemon.  Yep, it was real and I tried very hard to think that I was dreaming.
(oops, no picture of this.  Laura has one, I think.)

We spent the day in downtown Hania (also spelled as Chania or Xania, only the latter is with Greek letters). On our morning stroll up to the lighthouse, we caught glimpses of octopus drying on a pole between two chairs, people enjoying a coffee and a game or two of backgammon.

That first morning made life look so simple.  I had no desire to use my phone or check my email.  I was so engaged with the people around me.  Crete welcomed me with open arms.