A Glimpse of Crete…

Komboloi

Komboloi

Komboloi

 

A chubby man called Manolis leads us to a tiny red Micra. My suitcase struggles against stones on the ground and on noticing, Manolis picks it up with a giant hand, as if filled with feathers.

”This is your car. And this is for you,” he presents my father with a bottle of red wine, a product of Crete of course. After loading our suitcases into the boot, Manolis hands us his mobile number on a scrap of paper and insists that we call him if we need anything at all during our stay. He then bumbles into the distance of the pitch black airport car park.

My father starts the car and the stereo comes alive with bouzouki and cheery Greek song. He dances in the driver’s seat in excitement of the coming week and off we go to find our hotel, a good 45 minute drive away.

Crickets line the roads singing their hearts out in the arid grasses. The unmistakable perfume of pine resin floats in the humid air and a huge orange crescent moon hangs low in the night sky, its reflection splayed out on the sea to our left.

Families dine on terraces by the dim light of lanterns. Huge insects crash and die on our windscreen. The music plays on, familiar words and rhythms lament.

I have that feeling in my gut, the one I get every time I am here, not Crete, but here in the Mediterranean. A feeling of excitement and homecoming. I am about to fall in love all over again.

Full Article Here…

This entry was posted in Creative Writing, Mediterranean Culture, Travel, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , by NazarBlue. Bookmark the permalink.

About NazarBlue

Growing up with Southern Italian roots, Turkish best friends and Arabic and Greek speaking neighbours, life was lived around abundant tables in warm kitchens. A love for food and feeding was inevitable. It showed me how all people are the same regardless of language and borders – Una Faccia Una Razza! When I became engaged to a Saracen from Istanbul, his relatives not only welcomed me into their family but welcomed me into their kitchen. For me, food is love. Food personifies the people who you hold dearest and speaks of origins and affections. To cook is to create edible offerings of love. NazarBlue embraces food, culture & photography. But by no means the regular stuff you'll find littering the Mediterranean tourist trail. No, no! I cook food with stories behind each dish. I photograph simple things, but try to emphasis natural beauty in a moment or in a scene. And when I travel I live with the locals for an authentic experience. I adore the pockets of culture from the Mediterranean and beyond in this great city, London, and write about the authentic eateries and events I stumble upon, often by chance. I have also uploaded some flash fiction, for no particular reason other than I love a good story.

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