The day had come. My final, supposedly memorable day in Greece. And memorable it was — just not in the way I had hoped.
I’d booked a bus to see the one and only Elafonissi Beach. I was excited, already imagining myself — like an elephant playing joyfully in the pink sand. So I got on the bus early in the morning, and off we went, winding our way through Crete.
Well… “winding” doesn’t quite cut it. We miraculously made it through narrow mountain roads and a lot of highly questionable driving decisions. But who am I to judge? I wouldn’t have managed a single kilometer on those roads myself. Greece’s mountainous terrain made me feel awful — the last time I felt that carsick was on a bus ride through Grindelwald, Switzerland. Brutal.
Anyway. After 1.5 hours, we finally arrived. Elafonissi Beach. I got off the bus and started making my way to the beach, stomach rumbling. So I headed to the beach bar.
To quote Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman:
Big mistake. Huge.
I paid 5 euros for a single slice of watermelon. Just a slice. Five. Euros. I was mad at myself for not bringing anything from home. I should have known better.
Still, I made my way down to the beach, hoping for that “wow” moment. Instead?
Underwhelmed.
Undereverything.
You want to see the famous pink sand? All those stunning photos you’ve seen online? Lies. Big fat lies.
What wasn’t a lie? The ridiculous prices for a sun lounger. I laid on the hot sand with only my towel for cover, regretting every cent I had paid for this trip. I did join others in the water eventually, but honestly? It didn’t come close to the magic of Balos or Gramvousa.
After three long hours, we were picked up again. I was the first one back at the bus — that’s how ready I was to leave. Funny enough, the bus driver even cleaned my sandy shoes for me. Sweet guy.
But the day wasn’t all bad. On the way back, I sat next to an incredibly intelligent and well-traveled woman. She had worked across Africa and Europe, had Persian roots, and a solid career in finance. No, she wasn’t 6’5 with blue eyes (haha), but she was interesting. We exchanged Instagram handles — still follow each other to this day. She recommended a place I haven’t made it to yet: Palenque. One day, I hope.
And that’s it.
Chania — you stole my heart and gave me the best time I could’ve had that year…
Along with a few extra pounds I still haven’t shed.
This is my sunset post to you.
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