I went to Crete this September and fell in love.  Yes, hopelessly in love with this Greek island, shaped like a gnarled old olive branch and home to man for the past 7000 years.

This is the largest and most southerly of the Greek islands, sharing the same latitude as Tunisia and Syria and situated only 200 kilometres across the Libyan Sea from  the top of Africa.      This is a place of many different moods, of rugged mountainous beauty, with the peaks of the Lefká Ori (White Mountains) covered in snow for many months of the year. It’s a place of deep, magnificent gorges, thousands of caves, of blue skies and breathtakingly beautiful beaches, where the water is crystal-clear aquamarine with golden sand on some and pebbly on others.    Crete has many fascinating towns, influenced by the occupation in past centuries by among others, Romans, Mycenaeans, Arabs, Venetians and the Turks It abounds with fortresses and castles and exquisite mosques. There are the wonderful archeological sites of the Minoan civilization of thousands of years ago, including the world-famous Palace of Knossos and the ruins of Phaestos, Aghía Triadha, Mália and Káto Zákros.  There are fascinating Dorian, Roman and Greek sites, Byzantine monuments and hundreds of ancient churches and monasteries.  The towns display their Turkish and Venetian influences and if you want to see a really beautiful waterfront visit Chania or Réthymno. Peaceful and calm and protected by their sturdy old sea walls, their lighthouses still stand sentinel.  Chania’s lighthouse was rebuilt in the form of a minaret in 1820 by the Egyptians who were in charge at the time.     The Venetian-styled houses, many of them exquisitely and painstakingly restored, line the edges of the waterfront while all around are lively tavernas do brisk business as travellers from all over the world, drop in for a refreshing iced beer or a delicious iced coffee frappé.

But this was a holiday with a difference. I went to Crete because I wanted to spend my days wandering around on exciting little excursions, feeding my curiosity for all things historical, cultural, mythological and archeological.  I wanted to explore, to take my time, to wander about.   I also wanted to swim and snorkel and stroll through olive groves at leisure.  I wanted to have my space but not be entirely alone.   And this was why I chose to stay at a little hotel on the Western side of Crete, near to the town of Chania, called the Mistral Hotel.

A unique concept, this is not your “Solo” type holiday on some package deal.  It is a refuge, a home from home and caters only for the independent traveller.  The hotel is owned and run by Vassilis Gialarmarakis, a native of Crete, who speaks excellent English with a delightful Scottish accent.  This comes from his time studying for his B. Sc. degree in hospitality management at Strathclyde University in Scotland.

Vassilis and his family have run the hotel for nine years.  Accommodating about 36 independent travellers at a time, their booking system is divided into blocks of 7 days which run from Tuesday to Tuesday .   The bonus of staying at the Mistral is that, as a lone traveller, you immediately become a member of the family, who look after you as if you were their own.  The cost per week includes your breakfast and dinner with plenty of rather delicious Cretan wine (which I found to have a bouquet rather like summer strawberries) and the wonderful traditional Cretan food, prepared by mother Katerina and her chef.   Dinner times are enormous fun with everyone sitting at long tables. There is much chatter, laughter and swapping of stories and there are plenty who linger long over their coffee late into the night.  There is music and dancing and on Fridays the night is given over to traditional Greek dancing which has everyone collapsing in laughter at their own lack of co-ordination.

The joy of this concept is that it leaves one entirely free during the day to do one’s own thing and go off adventuring, join one of the many excellent trips that are available through the local travel agent, or simply take a trip to the beach nearby or swim in one of two lovely large pools at the hotel.   You are always warmly welcomed when you arrive back from your adventures and instead being all alone, you have the company of many like-minded people who are happy to listen to tales of your adventures, swap notes and make plans for the next day.    Many friendships are formed and many tears shed when those who are leaving board Vassilis’s bus for the airport.    The Gialamarakis family make every effort to see that everyone is kept happy.  There are wine-tasting events, quiz nights, wonderful trips with Vassilis and his brother Adonis to special beaches, trips to enjoy seafood lunches and even cooking lessons if you feel so inclined.   Vassilis will also host a trip to nearby Chania and explain its history and visit sites of interest for those so inclined.   All this is available but it is entirely up to the visitor to join in or decline.

And then, there are those mountains and the gorges and the castles up on the tops of hills, so camouflaged that you can hardly tell that they are there. There are stunning, uninhabited peninsulas and coves and bays and caves. There is also of course that speical cave, where it is said that Zeus was born.  Mainland Greeks will argue that point but the people of Crete know that he chose their island for his birthplace and why not?  They even argue about which was the cave of his birthplace and which his nursery, for there are two sites in Crete claiming the birth of this god of gods.   There is also the lovely beach at Elafonisi, round on the extreme Western side, close to the Libyan Sea. The water is so clear and the sand so white under your feet and the sea so startlingly blue, that as you float buoyantly in the salty water and gaze across to the little island nearby, you could hardly imagine the tragedy of 1824. It is written that Ottoman Turks chased 850 Cretan women and children onto this island and put them all to death.  The sand is made from billions of crushed pink shells, but when the tide turns and the sand glistens pale pink in the dying rays of the sun, the locals say that the blood of the women and children runs still.  Near here, too, set high on a cliff, is the Convent of Chryssoskalítissa. Here, legend has it, one of the 90 steps up to the chapel is fashioned in pure gold.  Only a true virgin will see the golden step but others will simply see the stone. Can’t say I came upon the golden step!

There are thousands of olive trees and oranges and lemons grow and the goats give of their milk for the most mouth-watering soft cheeses and the Greek salads are real and the olives sweet and succulent and the Raki ( special Cretan drink similar to Ouzo) packs just the right punch.  The Cretans are a warm-hearted and welcoming people who will do their best to make you feel at home.   There is much to see and do on this island of Crete, the cradle, it is said, of our civilization.  To make the most of it, read up and prepare for your journey and if you are a lone traveler, consider the Mistral as the place to find safe refuge while you are there.  The island bus service is excellent, (most of the busses are air-conditioned coaches) and are frequent and renting a car is easy and inexpensive.    Take good shoes if you intend to walk the famous Samaria Gorge (18.5 kms and mostly downhill.). Not for the faint-hearted but certainly doable by anyone reasonably fit and determined. But there are plenty of other gorges to walk too.

The best time is Spring (March through May) when the flowers are abundant and the island bursts into glorious colour or late Summer during September and October going into autumn.  July and August are the hottest months on the island, so bear tha in mind if you are planning to do a lot of sightseeing.

I flew on Olympic Airways.  It was an easy 9-hour flight to Athens and a simple switch to the domestic terminal to catch the plane to Crete. Then a  45-minute flight over the glorious blue Aegean Sea to be met at the Chania Airport  by the smiling and welcoming Vassilis, who collects and drops off all his guests at the airport when they arrive or depart.

But let us allow the final words to Nikos Kazantzakis, beloved son of Crete, buried near Iraklion and author of among many works, Zorba the Greek.

Crete’s sense of mystery is extremely deep.  Whoever sets foot on this island senses a mysterious force branching warmly and beneficiently through his veins, senses his soul begin to grow.