travels.of.tara

August 26-28, Rethymno Hostel and Heraklion Airport

My time in Greece is very soon coming to a close. I’ve been thinking about how at this point of a long trip, I’d be starting to think about going home and back to work. I’d feel some dread or perhaps a sense of nostalgia. It’s a little strange not falling into that familiar feeling of a trip ending. Like maybe now it’ll really hit me that I’m not going back to New York or to my job. And rather than trying to cram in last-minute adventures, I’m trying to slow down in my final days in anticipation of picking up in a new place again.

I spent my final days in Greece in Rethymno, a northern coastal city that is similar in many ways to Chania, with a slightly smaller population, and located about an hour to its east. I’ve heard many people say they like Rethymno more, but I think I felt the opposite, though the two are quite similar. Both were built as port cities with hundreds-of-years-old fortress walls and a central lighthouse. However, parts of Rethymno’s waterfront oddly reminded me of Miami, lined with palm trees, carnival games, and loud fancy restaurants that are hopping at night, and a longer strip of sandy swim beach lined with hotels along a busy modern street.

I stayed in a hostel in the Old Town, which I liked much more than the beachy strip thanks to its narrow roads, shops, and hidden gems. One I discovered was Stella’s restaurant, a hostel recommendation for lunch. Stella told me she opened the restaurant 30 years ago, and rather than a set menu you go look at the food for the day and pick what you want. I was pushed on the vegetarian plate, “a scoop of everything” which included so many yummy veggies; my favorite was the deconstructed stuffed vine leaves. As my time in Greece soon wraps up, I find myself thinking about what I must eat: still one more gyro wrap, one more saganaki, another spanakopita, more salads. Yum.

Pushing my suitcase the 10 minutes through the cobblestone streets in a heat wave was not my favorite travel experience, but I survived and recuperated. The Rethymno Youth Hostel is the only game in town, and it required staying in an 8-bed dorm on the second floor with the co-ed showers and bathrooms down at ground level. The line to dry clothes was jam-packed and not super effective without any wind.

Still, the room was comfortable and I bonded with some of the girls in the dorm by the end; it felt nice to be a little social again after Agia Roumeli. I spent time with two separate Greek women from Athens there on vacation, and a Swiss girl I shared a dinner with. A Serbian girl decided to loosely organize a Latin dance class in the outdoor common area on my last night, which was very fun. I was not on the same page as the American college grad in my room who was going into AI tech sales and on a whirlwind party tour of Europe this summer, but we still had a nice conversation. At the same time, I wanted to be on my own in Rethymno, hoping to process the end of my month in Greece and prepare for the next destination.

So of course, I walked. Too much, and everywhere. Ignoring the heatwave. I visit the fortress, rushing through the old buildings and great views due to the heat. I walk into shops just for the AC. I revel in all the pretty streets with pink bougainvillea. I discover that part of the beach is a nesting area for sea turtles. I spend one more afternoon at the beach, swimming in the perfect Aegean sea. I notice I’m quite tan now, some splotchy uneven lines to prove it. I curse the tourism gods and take the only real tour of the city I can find, a double decker hop-on hop-off red bus (a decade ago I wrote a report about how these buses are unsafe and bad for New York City); I hop off at a natural area just out of town called the Myli Gorge.

And I took a really nice morning yoga class with Sitara, who I connected with through a hostel friend in Chania who was also tracking down yoga classes. A classmate picked me up and we carpooled up the mountain a bit to class. It was lovely and restorative and friendly. I’m finding yoga to be a great way to connect with locals while restoring my mind and body, and hope to continue to prioritize it along my journey.

My big organized activity in Rethymno was an adventurous trekking tour of Kourtaliotiko Gorge, something I’d found a week earlier while browsing Get Your Guide for something to do. It was an awesome day and a real highlight of my time in Crete. I got driven half an hour up the mountain to the starting point, where big groups of tourists were already there to walk down to the waterfall. After gearing up in wet suits and helmets, wearing my hiking boots, our guide Yiannis walked us down stone steps amongst the throngs of people, about 10 minutes later arriving at the most popular spot of the gorge. A pool of icy shallow water and dripping moss greeted us, and then we swam for a minute through freezing water up the narrow gorge for the main attraction, a massive and roaring waterfall. Beautiful. Apparently the gorge was virtually unknown when our guide was growing up, and one Instagram reel changed everything, necessitating the building of a path and tourism infrastructure.

As the people walked back up, we continued down the empty gorge. We walked in and out of the water, a slow trek over rocks that was easy and beautiful. There were even a few very small cliff jumps. Yiannis shared a ton of information about the plants, animals, and herbs in the area like thyme, oregano, sage, mountain tea, and a local one he comes and gathers with friends. We saw a massive vulture resting on some rocks, and of course some roaming goats. I ate a fig off a tree.

The trek ended at a farm/garden where we ate a delicious lunch of Greek salad and tzatziki and fries and veggies. A massive turkey apparently named Michael walked next to our table as we were eating. The farmer, an older man also named Yiannis, showed us around the garden with all the fruit trees. Part of the area was burned from the wildfires that just took place about two weeks ago, and I could still smell the ash. I asked Yiannis what he did during the fire, and he said “of course I stayed and protected my land!” He showed the station he had set up to spray the fires. Wild.

I’m currently reading a nonfiction book I was recommended called Natural Born Heroes, which investigates the successful kidnapping of a World War II German general by British soldiers and assisted by Cretan citizens. The book takes place all over Crete, including many of the places I’ve been visiting. It talks a lot about how to use the body adaptively to nature, and using cunning versus brute force to succeed, explaining how Crete’s residents are the tough embodiment of this ethos.

As my first month of travel wraps up, I begin to reflect on my time in Greece and on life. Happily, I’ve barely thought about work here. Even as I tell people what I did for work I’ve kept up an emotional barrier to not think about it or process it too much. I think I just don’t miss it that much, if at all. I’ve thought about some of the people occasionally, sure, but not about the work itself. I’m following a bit about NYC news, but not really. All the Europeans know Mamdani. I don’t feel like I am lacking meaning and purpose in my life without work yet; this is something I want to keep an eye on during this long travel. Seeing new places and learning new things feels meaningful to me right now.

The vast majority of travelers I’ve met in Greece have been Europeans, most on relatively short summer holidays. I’ve been judging the Europeans, especially as I start to notice some broad patterns. For example, cigarette smoke is still everywhere. How on earth did we virtually eliminate that in the U.S. while it’s still so rampant here?? Some people vape—and they do it everywhere with little regard for other people—but the bad smell still permeates everywhere, in restaurants, outside hostels, from the bus driver, etc. And European travelers aren’t the friendliest bunch. Now, I can have walls up to strangers, and if you are on vacation with your family I get that you don’t want to meet other people so much. But I think most Americans, even if they are with their people, will make some kind of effort to talk to strangers when traveling. I sure do all the time! Hm. I have been happy interacting with the Greek locals, feeling like they are open and enjoy engaging with foreigners for the most part. I’m generalizing, but that’s ok.

Then there’s the European and Greek quirks I’ve had to get used to. Like the caps on plastic water bottles that don’t come off. And throwing toilet paper in the bin instead of the toilet—gross, but I’m getting used to it. I had at least one horrific incident during my period that simply took precedent over the fragile plumbing system! Greece, fortunately, enjoys air conditioners in their heatwaves, unlike many parts of Europe.

I’ve missed a few August birthdays of my people back home, but phone connections have made staying in touch so easy. My international plan seems to be working like normal everywhere, though it slowed down for a while in parts of the Cyclades. Otherwise, I’m not feeling much of any kind of homesickness.

My final nights in Greece were spent eating delicious food—enjoying those final souvlakis and bougatsas. At a solo dinner in Rethymno I decided to splurge on more than just one glass of wine with my meal, accidentally ordering the 8 euro half a liter which got me happily drunk and full of hot cheese.  

I leave Crete feeling full and healthy, perhaps having lost some weight from eating food that is largely free of chemicals and preservatives. It’s hard to leave Greece, a place that has filled my soul and my stomach. I will miss her endless sunshine. Flying to my next country instead of home is a head trip, and I’m eager to see how I handle the ongoing travels. One month down; five to go!