Well, That Didn’t Go as Planned: Our First Epic Fail
From flying plates to flying phones, Crete had its own ideas.
#31
Well, I guess there had to be a destination of epic fail during this adventure, and we certainly hit it this week.
The travel off of Naxos to the island of Crete went smoothly. We had the opportunity to travel on many different-sized ferries over the past month — from a large-type speedboat to a mini cruise ship — and there was space and room to roam on every one. I’ve mentioned multiple times now how traveling off-season means fewer people, but when you’re moving around as much as we are, it really does affect how each and every day will be. Everything has a tradeoff, and it comes down to your personal priorities. For us, our value system isn’t about stuff but about experiences, so we don’t mind having most stores and restaurants closed. We’d rather have space to move without masses of people. That being said, the weather isn’t as warm, but even in December, there are still swimmable days.
Returning the rental car in Naxos was easy, we hopped on the 5.5-hour ferry to Athens, and then we needed to navigate storing our bags before boarding the overnight ship to Crete. Tim hung out with the bags while I walked around and asked four different people before finally finding the baggage storage place. ChatGPT is so helpful in many respects, but sometimes the answers aren’t — like not knowing if a place is closed for the day or when directions aren’t entirely clear. So having street smarts, intuition, and a strong inner guidance system is key.
That inner knowing is often what leads us to the special “that turned out better than expected” moments or the “I can’t believe that bit of wow just showed up” experiences. And sure enough, after we stored our bags and wandered a few blocks, we walked past a restaurant on a side street and heard music. Tim had really wanted to hear some live music after a week of quiet on Naxos (and on Paros and Sifnos and Serifos), so when we were encouraged to come inside and listen, it didn’t take much for us to say yes. And what an experience it was! There were about ten tables filled with locals singing, dancing, eating, drinking, and having a fabulous time on a Sunday evening.
A few weeks back, we asked someone about the whole “breaking plates on the floor” thing — the one American movies swear is a Greek tradition, and we were told it wasn’t really common. So we let the idea go. And yet, here we were, with locals, and the plates were absolutely flying. We spent a couple of hours dancing in our seats, listening to singers rotate with the band, throwing plates, eating delicious food, and filling our souls in a way we didn’t even know we needed. So fun!
From there, we retrieved our bags, walked back to the port, shuttle to the ship, the standard line-up-and-wait to board, and then navigated flocks of teenagers running around the ship in glee. Our cabin ended up being surprisingly spacious, and I didn’t step out of it again until nearly everyone had disembarked the next morning.
We picked up the rental car right at the port (a luxury when it happens!), drove two hours south to Makrys Gialos, did a large grocery run for our planned nine-night stay, met the owner of our house… and then came the shock.
The house itself was big and had a beautiful front terrace overlooking the Mediterranean. But on one side was an empty lot filled with garbage, on the other was a falling-apart building, the street out front was busier than expected, and the entire town felt run down and energetically flat.
Let’s just say: it was a moment.
We were kind and courteous to the owner, got settled after a long 24 hours, and walked down to the small beach nearby, because no matter what, the sea always brings us back home to ourselves.
We’ve probably visited over 75 beaches together over the past three years — Florida, California, Mexico, Portugal, Spain, the Caribbean, the Bahamas, Central and South America, and now Italy and Greece. Each one has its own energy, its own landscape, its own invitation. And even in a town that didn’t resonate for us, the sea was still beautiful and generous that first sunny day before the rains.
But after a quick walk around town and one night in the house, we knew we couldn’t stay for nine nights. The reservation was technically non-refundable, but I hoped the owner might meet us somewhere in the middle, and fortunately he did. He allowed us to shorten the stay to four nights. We probably could have left after two, but I wanted it to be a win-win for everyone.
The next day (still forecasted to be dry), we packed a picnic and drove 20 minutes to another beach. Crete is rugged — cliffs, stone, silvery vegetation — and the beach we picked was tucked into a small cove with a staircase leading down to the sand. We had it entirely to ourselves.
There was a massive rock formation you could swim beneath — Tim immediately did, of course — and I cheered him on with my feet in the water. But by the end of the afternoon, I had fully swum twice, (just not around the rocks), we’d met two couples who wandered by, and Tim officially ranked it a top-five beach of all time. We listened to Christmas music, drank a bottle of champagne, watched the soft winter sun move across the sky, and soaked in the sweetness. I had a feeling it might be my last swim for a while, so I savored every second.
And then… the rains came.
Crete hadn’t seen rain in over a year, apparently, so when it arrived, it didn’t hold back. Two full days of it. On the last night, the power went out early, and the lightning show lasted two hours straight — like a strobe light right in the bedroom. But I was so energetically done, I couldn’t even film it.
The next morning, while trying to film the still-raging sea, I slipped in the mud, bruised my hand, and watched my phone fly directly into a watery ditch. Fortunately, it survived. When we finally drove out of town, we were both ecstatic to leave. That was the dynamic tension of Makrys Gialos: a spacious home, one of Tim’s top five beaches ever… and absolutely nothing else compelling us to stay.
We wanted more energy, more people, more life, and with rain still on the forecast, beach time wasn’t happening anyway. So we headed for the capital city, Heraklion. Instant upgrade.
We checked into a lovely two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in the center of town, dropped off the rental car, and walked straight into a lively square filled with people, restaurants, lights, and full holiday cheer. The energy feels incredible. After just one meal, we could feel our souls lift. Heraklion is absolutely the rainbow after the storm.
And truthfully, after eleven weeks on the road, one epic fail isn’t bad at all. And even then, tucked inside the contrast, we still got a top-five beach memory. Worth it, in the end.
Now we’re soaking up this new energy: great meals, walks through the city, a massage booked in a couple days, and lots of people-watching under twinkling lights. Smooth sailing again.
Later this week, we board an even larger boat — a full cruise ship — for a seven-day adventure in and out of Rome. Italy, Spain, and France. I’m excited for a week of total ease: a gym, meals cooked for us, and the luxury of fully unpacking my two bags. There’s no laundry room on this ship, so we’ve been washing everything here and tying up the last logistical details like airport transfers and the pre-cruise hotel.
And in “getting off the road” news… I’ve officially secured a fabulous apartment outside Dallas for six months starting mid-January. Tim will continue on to Asia for a bit, and I cannot wait to begin creating a second home base in Texas. I leased the apartment sight unseen — thanks to intuition, flow, and a little help from ChatGPT — and now I’m happily furniture-shopping to make it feel like home. It’s grounding me in a way that makes my heart incredibly happy.
As the pace of the holidays picks up, I hope you find your own small “beach in the storm” — the place where you can recalibrate, breathe, and find joy in the simplest of moments. May this season bring you magic, peace, and win-wins all around.
Have an incredibly blessed week.
To your highest and best,
Dianna
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