5/3/98: Slept in and had a late brunch at Stella’s. This time we were there plenty early in the day, so everything on the menu was still available. George, the proprietor, knows us by name now, so we have graduated to regulars. We spent quite a while talking story with him, and he opened up in greater detail about his tumultuous years living in NYC, and the joy he found in returning to Crete and now running this café and pensione.
5/3/23: A very important lesson that we learned as we traveled, is that breezing through a town or city or country, making only brief stops to see guide-book points of interest is a very shallow experience. When we stayed 5 or more days in one location, and were intentional about building relationships by returning to the same café or fruit market and becoming familiar with local residents, our experience was so much richer. It can’t really be explained except by anecdotes like returning to Stella’s café for yet another meal on our 11th day in Rethymno and being recognized by name and entrusted with the deeper personal stories of a new friend.
We didn’t do much else that day that was particularly interesting, so I’m going to tell you two funny stories about our drive through the countryside of western Crete the day before. First, we got stuck in a traffic jam on a remote mountain road even though there were no other cars around for miles. (Or, perhaps I should say kilometers.)
We were enjoying the scenery, which included clear blue skies, a road that wound through hills and valleys punctuated with small farms and groves of fruit trees, and a backdrop of mountain peaks in the distance. Gliding around one bend we had to come to a sudden and unexpected halt because the road was completely covered with a herd of sheep that were so tightly clustered together that you could not see the pavement under their feet. There were easily a hundred or more sheep and there was no driving around or through the throng. We simply stopped the car, turned off the engine and enjoyed the show, watching as the shepherds methodically ushered their herd across the road. It must have taken 30 or more minutes. Quite an amusing experience for us big-city dwellers.
The second funny thing that happened was not long after that. We stopped at a road-side café and gas station. There was no town surrounding the place, so I guess it was Crete’s version of the “truck stops” that are scattered along the highways of the US. I was feeling rather silly after our animal traffic jam, so as we entered the restaurant, I decided to play a little prank on the proprietor. Embracing the role of a clueless tourist, I whipped out our road map of the island of Crete, stared at it for a moment, scratching my head thoughtfully. Then I asked her: “I think we took a wrong turn somewhere. Could you tell us how to get back to Athens!?” The look on her face and the stare that she gave me was priceless. Once I explained I was joking and that I knew Athens was on the mainland, she was much relieved and we all had a good laugh. Ruth and I enjoyed a delicious lunch and were learning to not take ourselves too seriously.
