Mixed feelings, mixed colors - a ball of multi-hued yarn wrapped in excitement, anticipation, expectation.  Packing, unpacking, frustrated and rushed and not ready....never ready.  Then climbing, past green trees and gray buildings and suddenly thrusting through cotton clouds into a sky so blue it hurts your eyes. And then I sigh and settle in my too small seat as I speed toward the next adventure.  First New York and then Greece - a sacred  journey which promises magic and myth and great spirit!

     Hoisting heavy bags, I make my way to my daughter, Christine, and we have a breathy, happy reunion. New York is as always -  big and hurried and full of excitement and the unknown.  Visiting my son and his wife and the new addition to the family, Dylan.  Dear, dear Dylan who winks at me and raises his eyebrow as if to say, “Okay, Grandmother - how are we going about it in this lifetime?”  Laughter and baby tears and farewells and off  we go again ... into the wild, blue yonder.

     And wild it is.  New people, new words, new questions.  Some of us meet over airport coffee and sit around a sharp-edged table at JFK finding out about each other.  Still too early to tell but impressions are made and re-made and old friends are a sight for tired eyes and Greece always looms in the distance like a moving, mysterious island .

     And the nine of us unite in Athens and clatter around the lobby and chatter as we find our rooms and our roommates.  Strange words, strange sounds in this big, smoky city with handsome men and nervous women and we find it difficult to speak, let alone breathe.  We dance old Greek country dances at a taverna in the Plaka, eat under the stars and listen to Greek love songs as we try to read illegible menus.  Our knowledge of the language is rudimentary at best and most of us have forgotten the puzzling alphabet, but we make our way with "kalimera" and "efaristo" and big American smiles. On our way to dinner one night, we spy an amazing sight:  the Parthenon perched atop the Acropolis, standing stately,  lit with a thousand flood lights and seeming to hang above us in the darkness like a giant goddess holding court. It takes the breath away.

     Soon our days are filled with people and buses and powerful goddess and god sites.  We spend four days and nights traveling around the Peloponnese peninsula.  Naupflion, Olympia, the Corinth Canal, Mycenae, Patra, Rio - and then the amazing Delphi.  Rocky climbs and warm sun on our backs and at the top, spectacular views of very old sites where famous people taught classes and ran marathons and spoke profound truths.  We get on the bus and get off and get on and get off and in between we see some of the most beautiful landscapes and architecture imaginable.  Standing on a hilltop looking down at the place where the Oracle at Delphi made her pronouncements, we are in awe of this history, this place where kings and slaves gathered for guidance.  We see the Temple of Apollo and the magical Castellian Spring and we find a time and space to sit and listen to our messages from the Goddess Oracle. Tired each night, we fall into dreamless sleeps and wonder how we shall ever match the day’s magnificence.  And then back to Athens and we board the ship at Piraeus, the famous port, and we are sailing the Aegean Sea to the isle of Mykonos. As we make our way through the blue water, we take deep breaths of the sea air and find out where to eat.  And eat we do. Not only good Grecian, olive-oil laden food but the marvelous sights we see as we stand on deck.  We are in awe of everything - the language, the music, the Oracles and their prophesies, the fascinating tales of Gods and Goddesses and the meaning behind the magnificent myths of ancient Greece.  And then we arrive at Mykonos.

     Mykonos is truly a gem-like island set in a sea of twelve different blues.  A white-dotted, treeless island with windmills whirling over the harbor and dancing till dawn each night.  Over the years, this place has played host to sheiks and princes and movie stars and millionaires.  Nude beaches and night clubbing into the wee small hours.  It is the darling of the brochures and many people make their way to this pearl in the sea.  Happily, we are visiting just before the busy months of July and August.  Our hotel, the San Marco,  is a sanctuary and provides us with views which seem of another world.  Long vistas of pebble beaches and wide expanses of purple and blue sea.  We relish our three days on Mykonos.  We are reminded of the famous words over the temple of the Oracle at Delphi, Know Thyself and Nothing in Excess.  We're working on the first and failing miserably on the second.  We walk, we hike, we ride, we shop, we dance, we swim and sleep -  and still our hearts search for adventure.

     Then sailing on, we drop our bodies onto Patmos and Rhodes and Santorini and visit Heraklion.  The wonderful monastery at the top of Patmos is almost closing when we arrive there.  But the caretaker sees our disappointment and unlocks the doors so that we may prowl through the stone rooms filled with brilliant paintings and carvings and glass cases holding relics of past martyrs and saints.  Santorini or Thera makes us gasp as we approach the island.  The caldera there, resulting from the famous earthquake which carved this hole in the island, creates one of the most beautiful sights we have seen.  White-washed houses perched high above dizzying cliffs seem to stir our memories of Atlantis and the stories told by Plato and others. Santorini is full of exploring tourists and we find it difficult to make our way through German, Japanese and French tours.  But there are magical moments, when there are no people and we can really feel this island.

     Some of us have true past life flashes as we visit Turkey, Kusadasi and the magnificent ruins of Ephesus which still vibrates with the power of the god pantheon.  The ship is our home but parts of our hearts remain on these islands.  There is something familiar .... something like home...as we pick our way amongst the broken marble steps and towering columns which once played host to Socrates and Minos and Pythagoras and Demeter and Artemis.  Our heads are awhirl with fragments of remembered myths and we walk long corridors like temple women in long white gowns adorned with olive leaf headdresses.  The air is full of oleander and the bougainvillea is aflame in magentas and purples and ripe pinks. There are marketplaces and museums with such ancient finds that we shake our heads and wonder how life must have been a thousand years ago.  Our stays on these islands are too short and we long for days of quiet intimate exploration. And we give thanks for this journey.  We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

     Finally, five of us land on Crete and find our rented villa amidst olive groves and are greeted by a wrought iron gate that swings magically open as we make our way to the entrance.  The villa is atop a hillock overlooking the sea and the sweet village of Episkopy.  We are entranced with the view of majestic mountains and shining sea ... by the big house, the clear blue pool, the terraces and balconies and the cool marble floors.  We have found heaven and our tired souls and bodies reach hungrily for rest and we sleep for a day and a night. Then we are on our way again, exploring this mythical island, meeting her people, hearing about the mysterious Minoans, eating sumptuous meals that begin at 10 pm and end....whenever.  Moussaka, pastichio, tzaziki, souvlaki, plump ripe olives and honey-dripped bhaklava.  Calamari squid in light buttery crust and chilled white, delicious Santorini wine.  The olive oil is the lightest, sweetest in our lives and the yogurt begs to be eaten with everything.  We hear the church bells in the morning and the local seller broadcasting his wares as he rumbles past the villa. We eat succulent lamb and sweet, fresh fish and travel along terrifying gorges on our way to the sea.  Ouzo and raki are offered at every stop and our heads reel with so much good food and drink. Few Americans on Crete now and the touring world has yet to find this perfect place.  We find many internet cafes with speedy computers and strange keyboards and answer our emails as quickly as possible.  It almost seems a sacrilege to sit in front of these machines when so much ancient history and drama is and was occurring just outside the door.  The towns are full of color and music and the tavernas with old Greek men twirling their kolomboi or worry beads. Endlessly sipping their raki and twirling the beads around their fingers, talking quietly and staring at these American strangers. Where are the women we wonder? While the men talk and twirl and drink, are the women working at home?  Do they ever sit in the tavernas and talk?  It is always a question we ponder as we walk the village streets.

     Knossos is always looming in our minds and we wonder at all of the stories of this fascinating civilization which disappeared in the blink of an eye.  The Minoans - a civilization that did not war - ever.  A civilization that honored art and music and dance and theater and showed their grace and prowess by leaping over bulls.  Men and women who created brilliantly colored murals of dolphins and royalty and ceremony and myth.  Crete steals our hearts, our minds as we explore coves and caverns and ravines and delightful villages with pristine beaches.  We cannot get enough and we try to stay - but the Great Goddess of Travelers thunders from her mountain and decides we must make our way home and the day arrives when we pack again and speed along the coast road to the waiting plane.

     As I look out the window of the plane, I see the island slipping away beneath the clouds...almost disappearing magically into the sea.  Did it really exist?  Did it disappear with the mysterious Minoans?  Is it still there ...  could it be awaiting our return?  It is a long forgotten memory and as familiar to me as my home in Green Mountain, North Carolina.  I will always return to Crete, as long as my body lives, as long as I am able to climb into a plane, board a ship or ferry, and drive that marvelous road between the mountains and the sea..  It is truly a home away from home and calls to my heart every day.