It's all greek to me. Literally.

Finishing out my season with a few trips in Crete has been such an incredible blessing. I have yet to go to an area that Backroads travels and not be entirely impressed, but this has been even more than I imagined. I am surrounded by amazing coleaders, new friends and contagious love for life and energy in the culture.

It has been a whirlwind from the second I got off the plane so instead of trying to recount actities, I will just pull out some highlights from along the way.

• The Greek people love to go on strike. They also do not like to wait in line. Probably secondary to the fact that Crete was an occupied island for over a thousand years by unwelcomed forces, the people here actually see most laws as voluntary: seat belts, stop signs, paying your taxes. All just mere suggestions.


• Every night around sunset (or often noon and onward into the evening) all the "Yayas" (Grannies) pull up a chair on the stoop and sit outside watching the people go by. Many others stop to join them, young and old alike and it is a clear visual for the importance placed on relaxation here. They love to relax.


• In contrast to their afternoons, their celebrations and dancing is extremely acrobatic and a real demonstration of athleticism! We added a "cretan party" to the trip agenda here and I feel privileged to have seen something so rooted in tradition and history. More to come on this later...


• Trees grow in the middle of roads. Big trees. Straight through the asphalt. Ok...not everywhere, but this one does.


• It has been so dry here. I am blown away by the different colors a dry climate can produce. In the early morning and early evening in particular. The soft light and rose glow cast on all the mountains backdropping the towns and even the dry grasses in the fields can look slightly rusty.


• The FOOD. It is neverending and so delicious! Whoever invented the mediterranean diet is full of crap. Yes, there is plenty of olive oil, but there is also cheese and yogurt everywhere and every meal seems to last hours. (Clearly cheese is one of my greatest vices in life. I just can't say no. I am addicted.) Not to mention there are 6 billion and 10 ways to eat and use phylo dough and every meal ends with Raki and dessert "on the house".


• The radio station DJs talk over the songs. All. The. Time. When uninterupted the music is beautiful, but as it is an iPod or mass amounts of CDs are mandatory.


• You can not flush toilet paper down the toilet. That's right. I said it. Every square has to go into the waste bin.


• Trucks drive around with PA speakers on the top of their hood selling whatever it is they have that day in a moderately monotone voice. "Fish, potatoes, corn, dowry items" (ie linens and weavings)...anything you want you can get from a moving truck. Just flag 'em down.


• Goats run rampant. They are on the roads, on the cliffs, in the trees. Everywhere.


• They paint the tree trunks white to protect them from ants. The paint is not a pesticide, but ants apparently will not cross white. The color just messes with their little ant heads.


• They like to shoot guns. (Don't worry mom - I AM SAFE) They mostly do target practice with the road signs when no one is around, but it is always amusing when you have to explain to a guest why they missed the turn because half of the town name is now replace by one big silver "O". Minor change in spelling.


• The music promotion posters are AWESOME. I can not even do them justice with a description. The are timeless- in that many of the artists look like they belong in the 80s. Mustaches galore, posing with their lyres on one knee matching their one eyebrow up. Very serious.


• I also took a little fall two weeks ago. First trip in Crete. Whoop whoop. Long story short: the roads get pretty slippery here so I did my best superman impression and then broke my fall with my face. For my 30th birthday, I got a neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew CHIN! Hanna was sweet enough to come to the hospital with me and when I requested the plastic surgeon on call the man in the button down shirt and jeans chuckled and said, "Today, I will be a plastic surgeon." Reassuring...really. 9 stitches, 3 layers, 1.5 weeks with 3 follow up visits. 5 euro. Turned out pretty good if I do say so myself. Good work for a guy playing doctor.