Ι wake up to deep blue. I seek to discover every single corner, every secret dock and hidden pebble. The journey of light begins in Crete, the island that has it all, the bridge between East and West.
Ancient stones whisper myths and wonders. Kings and Queens lay here in the Gorge of the Dead, in Zakros. Listen closely and their mysteries will be unveiled.
As the day rises I shed my light to the bluest of all blues: Elounda, with its dreamland coastline and crystal waters like dancing sapphires.
Why is this land hiding so many memories? Voices and dreams of people that lived and perished here, homes and rocks and then the sea and the sky. Spinalonga is a living monument island and I bring light to its history and stories.
Then I soar into the air and I am here. The jewel of the island, the town of Agios Nikolaos, is calling me on its lake’s glimmering waters and cosmopolitan sounds.
It is noon and I am finding my way to the shimmering flatness of the Lasithi plateau. It is time to peak in Diktaion Andron, the cave where Zeus was born. A few sunbeams make their way into the darkness of the sanctuary where kings isolated themselves before rising to their thrones , the sacred energy is still here; gods are listening.
The big city of Heraklion is buzzing and vibrant. I reveal real treasures at the ancient palace of Knossos, birthplace of European civilization. Creation is everywhere.
I dive and jump and move in the villages of the island’s mainland. Through the stone alleys and the small white houses. Through the arches and the gardens outpouring with gardenias, begonias and roses.
I play and I laugh in the vineyards, I see the wine being pressed and I hear the laughter.
Their home is a safe haven during my travels. Where the fire is burning and food is served for all.
The flickering between the leaves, the cicadas singing, the youth idling the heat away under cold rocks on boiling sand. This is the island’s pure South.
Climb on the crest of the White Mountains and look at the wilderness. Contemplate. Breathe. Now at the breathtaking Samaria gorge I shrink to break through a tiny hole in the gigantic mountains. Then I am out, in the open blue skies and open sea.
In the outskirts of Chania, while I am slowly sinking, I see her sitting by the side of the road: her face carved with stories and sun. Her smell of grapes, soil and fire. She is the Cretan woman. The cornerstone of the Cretan family.
His hands that have worked the land and hugged and pulled are now holding the “komboloi” counting beads and time. He is the Cretan man. The selfless giant who can hug and protect you or crush you, should you disrespect his family.
My last beams are ready to set and I am expanding just to gaze at Elafonisi at this very moment. While welcoming Venus in the clear sky, I am calling you to follow my journey.
