Notes On Crete

It’s about three o’clock in the afternoon when I walk outside. My head is that fuzzy, sleepy way after a wine tasting, that makes you want to find the nearest sun lounger and have a mid-afternoon nap. The heat of the day is not at its peak anymore, but it keeps the air thick for a while longer. Just as I step outside the Manili Bistro, where a group of us have just finished having a wine pairing, I stop.

Across the road is an older woman staring back at me. She’s wearing a black floor-length skirt, a black blouse, a black hairnet, and has stopped, momentarily, brushing her veranda. Her skin is weathered, stained a deep, olive-oil colour. She smiles at me, and I smile back, before she goes back to her business. For a moment, I’m slightly confused whether she is a hotel guest or lives in the apartment across the street. Quickly, it becomes clear that Manili Suites is not a hotel that has been built as an afterthought, but rather built in as part of the ancient hills of Archanes and its local community. This slightly unexpected, labyrinthine hotel has rooms perched all over the hill I stand on. Its pools and sun loungers are tucked around all of its hidden corners, and the jacuzzi at the top, overlooking the mountains across the way, could leave you daydreaming for hours.

I’m standing still, thinking about this woman across from me. Two people from two different places, most likely unable to speak the same language, just smiling at one another. The more I travel, the more I believe you can never really understand a place until you meet its people - like actually stand across from them. I linger a moment longer than I probably should, watching this woman go back to brushing her balcony, and I take her in. I would have gladly lingered all afternoon, but I already sense movement around me, our group now packing our cases into the small van that was to take us away from here. We are ready to move on to our next destination, that post-wine-tasting hubbub and excitement bundled close together as we clamber into the vehicle. I look back one more time at my new friend, but she is already gone, and then so are we.

Two days earlier, I am standing on a jetty that leads out to the Aegean. It’s early morning, and I would forgive myself for thinking the sea was a deeper turquoise than it normally is. As I look closer, and the light of the day warms itself, I can see through the water as clear as ever. I am completely alone, the waves gently lapping against the smooth, large rocks underneath me.

Twenty-four hours before this, I was on a plane from California, and thanks to my jet lag, I’m awake before sunrise. My body has been crying out for some rest for weeks now, and so I slowly breathe in that fresh, Cretan air as I look out to the horizon, where a small island sits in the distance. Though it feels like I can barely keep my body upright from exhaustion, something in me knows that this trip is exactly what I need; knows that Greece will fill me back up in the way I know it knows how.

I make my way up the hill to breakfast. We are staying in Phaea Blue for two nights, in a luxury villa with ‘Small Luxury Hotels', which is part of their Considerate Collection. We are travelling with a group of interesting people: another young gay man (who was already our friend from before), a wonderful Spanish photographer who would not be seen dead without a stunning blowout every time I saw her, and another woman whose skin was like something straight out of a magazine, and who made us feel like we had known her for years. We all gather on the breakfast patio, overlooking the property, basking in the golden, orangey sunlight that paints its walls.

Few ways bring me pure, unbridled joy than breakfast in the sunshine with a group of people. That smell of fresh coffee is around us all, bringing us in closer. The breakfast options are spread upon a large, dark wood table, filled with thick Greek yoghurt, fresh fruits, pastries, eggs, breads, and, my personal favourite, locally sourced honeycomb (which is making my mouth water just thinking about it).

Once we are finished, we are led down to the jetty where I had been earlier this morning. You get a sense of why there is so much myth and lore about this place. With every way I look at the ocean as we walk down the hill, I can see the thousand ships setting sail in the water. The olive trees lining the pathway down to the beach sway with the light wind that accompanied us the previous evening for dinner.

Last night, we had been driven down to Blue Door Taverna by golf buggy, which lies at the bottom of the steep hill at Phaea Blue. This taverna is everything you could want for a first night meal in Crete. The warmth of the restaurant’s staff was matched only by their total seriousness about the food. They brought out so many plates that we ended up needing two golf buggies back up the hill. Thick, creamy Tzatziki, freshly made dolmades, catch of the day, grilled octopus, grilled prawns, lamb chops, Greek salad, pitta bread, and another plate, and another, and another. Our newly formed group stayed well into the evening, sharing our introductions and stories over Greek wine that kept magically arriving at our table, before we could say ‘no more!

We pass the Blue Taverna, not even awake yet for its lunchtime guests. Walking along the shoreline, I see the caique, a traditional Greek wooden boat, that will be our transportation for the day. It sits in the turquoise waters, with the isle of Spinalonga as its backdrop, its dark history beneath all its beauty. The boat crew welcome us on board, this ragtag bunch who already have their phones and cameras out, oohing and aahing at the simplest of things.

I’m breathing in the air as it rushes past me on the front of the caique. We sail through the indigo blue of the deeper ocean of the Mirabello Gulf, surrounded by the ancient mountains and landscapes that inspired the likes of Homer and built the legends of Icarus. We settle on a small, secluded cove that is completely left to us. Our host takes us onto the island and tells us a story about the tiny white chapel that exists on it. You’ll be glad to know if you’re ever lost and see one of these chapels, its altar will always be facing north, he tells us proudly. Before long, we are back on the boat, where the chef is heating the BBQ. I will say, for May, the ocean was very much on the colder side, but we still jumped in nonetheless. Here I was, with all these new friends, having only been in America a mere 48 hours ago, swimming in the Aegean Sea, welcoming in the summer months for all the people after me.

For me, this is a must-book experience for anyone visiting Phaea Blue, if nothing else, for the BBQ’d Greek food alone. As the Greek wine and beer begin to flow once more, we watch the chef as he cooks on the secluded beach and brings a feast to a table at the back of the boat deck. Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to eat another morsel after last night’s dinner, I am once again bowled over by the sheer amount of food that is served to us. I don’t know what it takes to make a steak taste quite literally perfect, but this chef knew how to do it.

All of these people, sharing lunch, learning about traditions, and creating new ones right here. We sail back to shore and laze in the hot afternoon sun at the front of the boat. The air is crisp with the salt breeze from the ocean, and I hear one of my new friends exclaiming, “This really is a first in a generation type thing for me”. I look at her with one eye open, squinting in the sun, and smile at her. Me too, I think to myself, before closing my eyes.

Later that evening, much to our surprise(kidding), we are sat around a table on the patio at Phaea Blue, sharing food and drinking wine once again. There has not been a single moment of our stay where we have gone without something. Every small detail, every personal gesture has been thought of and accounted for. We’ve had handwritten notes, gifts like their sustainably sourced olive oil and tote bags delivered to our rooms, and a personal touch that is sometimes missed in luxury accommodations. It is in those small gestures, in a world that becomes increasingly fake, that make staying somewhere memorable and, well, real. That type of care is not found everywhere I travel, but when it is there, it changes everything.

We awake the next morning, and after some sad goodbyes and reluctant check-outs, our group clambers into a small van with purple curtains on its windows and some questionable air conditioning vents. We drive for over an hour, in awe at the drastic landscapes we pass through; picturesque fishing villages by the ocean on the left, and then the imposing, ancient mountains suddenly to our right. Just as we are all about to fall into a late morning snooze, the van is juddering us up a hill to bring us to Manili Suites, another “Small Luxury Hotels” property built into the hillsides of Archanes.

This was a whirlwind lunchtime (where I met my Greek grandmother sweeping her balcony, if you remember). We tasted organic wine from a local Archanes winery called Moinoterra, and even drove to the top of the hillside to witness a spectacular view of the town from a separate part of the property. One might say that the hotel layout is a little confusing, but this architectural adventure certainly rewards its curious guests if they spend enough time exploring it.

By complete happy accident, our group’s outfit choices had begun blending into the architecture. Earth tones, butter yellows, burnt oranges. The place is a photographer’s dream, and we spent a good chunk of time taking pictures and videos amongst archways and painted walls. Every turn around each corner led us to say hello to another hotel guest, lying in the shade of one street reading a novel, or dipping their toes in the pool of another.

This is what Manili Suites is: the authentic feel of living in a town and becoming a small addition to its community, for however long you are there. My only regret was that I was part of this community for too short a time. I would have happily opened another bottle of the sommelier’s favourite white wine, which I drunkenly forgot to note the name of…

By late afternoon, we arrive at ACRO Suites, the final stop on our grand hotel tour. The reception entrance is perched on top of a cliff that has a sheer drop to the ocean below us, and the effect is immediate. Through the glass window, I see an infinity pool that looks over that same view, and our group is left gawping in disbelief for a short moment. If Phaea Blue and Manila Suites felt like different versions of traditional Greek mixed with new luxury, ACRO Suites was full, unadulterated luxury.

We are taken to our rooms, and suddenly I’m in a cave from a James Bond movie. The high-tech remote controls- for the doors, the lighting, the blinds- left me amazed, if not somewhat bewildered at times (can’t I just press a switch?). There is no doubt, however, that this space was designed by people who care about spaces and how they can make people feel. The deep orange tones of the walls are the perfect backdrop for an afternoon to lie by our own private pool, overlooking my familiar friend- the Aegean.

It is not until the balmy, summer evening that we are taken to ACRO Suites sister hotel, Sea Side, for an olive oil tasting class (there’s a first time for everything, right?). We are taken through three different olive oils by a very enthusiastic sommelier, who asks us to slow down and think about small rituals such as this one. Everything from smelling it, to warming it up with our palms, and sipping them at our own pace; the rest of the world stops for a moment and we have nowhere else to be.

It hits me again that this is what the Greeks do so well - they slow down, they take time with their traditions. Having lived in the States for the past three months, I could not have come from anything more opposite. My exhaustion levels had hit an all-time high, and that was certainly no accident. The corporate machine that is America is the complete antithesis of what I am doing now. I can feel myself regaining that glow of the olive oil in this small shot glass, as I warm it in circular motions in my palm. I think to myself, it really is this simple. Perhaps when I’m in the throes of dozens of Zoom calls a day, pitching and writing up briefs with twenty-four hours’ notice, I’ll just look in my cupboard for some of this stuff.

The next day, we are treated to free time to experience the property, and I’m surrounded by honeymoon couples in all their finest Lululemon and Alo gear, as we head to the fitness centre. From a reformer pilates studio to a yoga space, and one of the most breathtaking open-plan gyms, that sits inside a huge, armadillo- shaped, wooden structure, this place has it all. We partake in a pilates class and enjoy a couple’s massage at their own bespoke spa; all at once, I’m quite literally resurrected.

For our final evening, we are joined by one of the lovely marketing team from ACRO Suites for dinner, and enjoy a Cretan feast fit for the Greek gods. We talk to her about her life on the island, where she sees the future of tourism going for Greece, and where in the world she would like to visit next. As someone who doesn’t always get the hype for luxury dining experiences, and often prefers the less pretentious option (hi, my name is Chris and I’m from Glasgow), I was left speechless by this food. We watched as the chefs cooked in front of us, how delicately and carefully they worked to show us the very best of what the island and its people had to offer. I only wish I had an even bigger appetite so I could eat all of it. Notably, the white chocolate soufflé towards the end of the meal is exactly what I’d imagine you are offered at the gates of Mount Olympus itself. Utter decadence and gluttony, in its sweetest form.

Five nights on a Greek island is simply not enough. I could have taken five more, and still, my cup would not have been full. It was, however, more full for having shared these past few days with this group of people. It was a lesson for all of us in the simplicity of tradition, the enduring, ancient necessity of slowing down, of making life uncomplicated. It is why so many people choose to come here when their lives have given in to the monotonous busyness of the everyday. It takes watching an older Greek woman brushing her veranda, slowly heating a shot glass of olive oil in your palm, or standing still on a jetty alone with nothing but myself to remember that life really is that simple.

Each hotel was part of the ‘Small Luxury Hotels’ Collection. Phaea Blue was the first property we visited, which lies between the fishing village of Plaka and the port of Elounda. It is an actively sustainable hotel, which qualifies it to be part of the Considerate Collection. They proudly recruit over 85% of their team locally, have a program called Phaea Farmers, which encourages staff to cultivate and sell their own organic produce, and have a focus on farm-to-table methodology. Combine that with the stunning views of the Aegean and Spinalonga Island, and Phaea Blue cements itself as somewhere you must visit one day.

Manilli Suites was the second visit in our trip, and though we didn’t stay the night, it offered something that felt authentic, built into the village of Archanes. From its winding streets to its hidden pools and jacuzzis that overlook the rest of the valley in front of it, this place offers you something that feels unpretentious. You can read your book in the shade of one street, as a local fruit seller on his Vespa passes you by on another. Perhaps you have a dip in the pool across from the older Greek woman who was sweeping her veranda? Whatever you choose to do during your stay here, it will leave you feeling as though you’re part of the town itself.

The final property we stayed at was ACRO Suites, and it offered that new-age luxury that the other two destinations did not. Built into the ancient clifftops, this palace is part of ‘Small Luxury Hotels’ Wellness Collection, and for good reason. Here you can completely switch off, enjoying the Asana Fitness Centre or Asana Yoga Studio, before taking yourself to the Bath House Spa to unwind in a sanctuary that feels befitting of the ancient Greeks. With design inspired by its surroundings and its Minoan past, you will feel as though you are in your own, bespoke temple oasis, and before too long, you will feel the rest of the world just slipping away from you.

Dinner at ‘The Blue Taverna’ at Phaea Blue will be the warm, Greek hug that you need when you arrive at the property. Their traditional, locally sourced menu is made even more delectable by the attention and generosity of the staff, who feel more like your extended Greek family, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.

A wine pairing at ‘Manili Bistro’ for an afternoon is something I would not miss. Wine alone does not make a memorable experience, but the stories told by the local sommelier about each of them do. Mixed in with the setting of golden, orange light peeking through the windows as you eat and drink, this experience will leave you feeling romantic and in love with the Greek way of life.

Dinner at ACRO Suites ‘Cremnos’ restaurant is a true feast that you must leave room in your belly for. If that means having a lighter lunch or not having that afternoon beer, I would recommend it. It was genuinely some of the best food I’ve ever eaten(it’s got my mouth watering again just picturing the white chocolate soufflé).

If I were to pick just one thing (though I could pick many more), the boat day experience that Phaea Blue offers was the highlight of my trip. Setting sail on a traditional caique to explore the secluded coves and serene beaches, followed by a BBQ served on board by a private chef, will remain a core memory of mine for years to come.

Chris