Today’s travel template seems to be hell bent sucking the spontaneity out of life. On hammering you into booking – booking tickets, booking tours, making reservations and generally requiring you to micro manage your time to the point where it can seem more like a deadline-driven work week.
Google any place and the first thing to come up will be “Book your tickets to xxx”.
Fail to book in advance and find yourself at the receiving end of an incredulous interrogation…people will be called in from the back office to point and laugh at you.
Here’s a little story about free falling…letting the time unfold organically. I know it doesn’t always work and that’s the risk you take. You can’t get in, the only room available is the most expensive or directly on top of an Irish bar, but hey, it’s all about the adventure. And when it comes off….its awesome.
We were in Crete. Crete is a huge island, the largest in Greece. Its mountainous interior plunges down to white beaches. We crossed the ridges of the White mountains and descended the zig zagging roads to Hora Sfakia, on the southern coast. We knew that ferries operated to and from a place called Loutro. On a whim, we packed an overnight bag and boarded the ferry.
Loutro is car free, the only way to get there is by boat. A pretty half moon bay surrounded by white and blue building block houses gradually became closer and closer. A path followed the shoreline. Small restaurants with checked tablecloths dotted the beach. We trawled along the pathway, enquiring as we went for room vacancies. About four in we struck gold.
What followed was two nights (yes, we extended) of bliss. We tottered between beach, restaurant, hilltop to a soundtrack of water lapping on the stones, and the perfume of grilling meats. We bobbed around in the clear water of the Mediterranean.
We watched the local ladies walk up to the little market garden and purchase the ingredients for the lunch they would cook. Each restaurant made up their specials, and lunch and dinner were best selected “from the window”.
It was so much sweeter because we felt like we discovered it, or maybe it had discovered us.
We chose our beach chairs and asked where we should pay…the answer was “sit, someone will come”.
The pace of the village seeped into our veins. Small boats took guests to adjoining beaches, but we were settled in. On the evening of the third day, we said a regretful au revoir to Loutro, the place that became an antidote for us to structured travel.
What do you think? Do you crave the freedom of no plans?
Don’t be a stranger, I’d love you to like this, or better yet, follow me. No spam, no selling, just pretty great stories from a couple of ordinary travellers.