Night was falling. Surrounded by clothed peoples, new country and the craggy coastline I have come to familiarize with Greece, I hopped a rock-stacked wall and slipped out of sight. With the guidance of twilight casting a mellow shadow passed each stone, I tumbled down a hill and stepped onto a wind-drift patio; desolate, dirty, with piles of dried eucalyptus and bougainvillea tassels spinning round their mounds. This was it. Perfect. Soon, I watched the moon rise to shine its reflection down across the spreading Aegean Sea—the setting to an episode of Indiana Jones on the island of Karpathos. Island Bound Mythical Zeus and King Minos were left alone. As the nudists of Plakias and the northern strip malls of Northern Crete’s highway 90. I packed my few clothes, rolled up my tent and blanket and ... read more

Cramped in Crete The north felt old, beaten and subjected to the rigors of the tourist trade. It was everywhere; the mazes of alleys like a compartment store with a disorderly manager creating row after row of miasmal shelving. With this, I was excited. I was thrilled with the prospects of a search for a Crete bucolic in wilderness and lifestyle. Rich with minerals, Crete is a mainstay supplying the produce for the rest of Greece. And yet, where was this? I was excited to leave. I was excited to search into the lavishes of an arduous Cretan culture. An Image Over Yonder Rural Crete held something in mind; rocky crags, mountains dried by the aridity of an emblazoned sun, the squares of olive groves, and the men with long twirling mustaches and the women in ... read more

Slow roasted gyro spices and the waft of numerous cigarettes intermingle in a sea air aboard the F/B Lato. We leave a 2,800 year old port behind, our captain blowing his horn to a passing ferry less than half our size as we leave the harbor’s entrance. It’s a seaman’s greeting. The response is reciprocated. With the Great Harbor, commonly known as Piraeus, this horn echoes round the surrounding hills. In the dark, they’re illumined with stacks of geometric apartment housing whose lights twinkle as the skies above. Honestly, the harbor is much more beautifying in the dark. Daylight shines upon the grime and modern hub of businesses built to the Greek ferry system and the extent of large shipping companies. According to the Independent Travellers’ Greek Island Hopping 2006, when in Piraeus “it is difficult ... read more

Put a smile on my face. I'm home, I have a job. I have family and friends within my life, there when needed, when lonely or drained, when sucked like a Pixie Stick of all the juices that would otherwise bring a sweet flavor to life. And then the memories, the floods and torrents of the moments in the past that brought me to where I am today. I know I haven't lost them, or slipped on that large, wild banana peel placed before me by the callings of everyday life. I am here, present, but distant in thoughts where I see the future lilting in the dreams I once yearned for. I am here, yet I am not, mesmerized by the smiles and the laughs, the strange enriched situations where the others and I are ... read more

I wound further toward a most northwesterly point. The highway was littered with debris; rock, sand, dirt, remnants of trees from last week’s storm. I could make out the traces of mudslides in route, the black tarmac stained with the enriched brown of fertile soils. Slowing around each curve along the water, I looked as far ahead round the bend wherein revealed a cleared patch of earth, a deep brown scar clean of green mosses and ferns, or a fallen trunk laying in pieces, now sawed and mangled to keep traffic flowing. To my right the Strait of Juan de Fuca. To my left the Olympic National Forest. Above me, hidden in the branches, the eagles and hawks of the Pacific Northwest. Winding along Highway 112, I was reaching the ends of the earth in search ... read more