Photos: #TravelwithHaemee

haemeecrystal — Sat, 30 May 2015 18:54:00 GMT

Snippets

A French Canadian Lifeguard and a Towel

haemeecrystal — Wed, 27 May 2015 22:09:19 GMT

Alone I sat, on a grey boulder surrounded by dusty reddish-brown terrain, beaming sun and gleaming sea, watching longingly as strangers jumped off the cliff.

As I looked on, eager adrenaline seekers swam out from the few boats anchored nearby and from the banks on which I sat to climb the iceberg-like rocky mass protruding from the water.

One after another, they hurled their bodies off the 15 foot cliff, over its platform edge and into the blue depths below.

If someone hesitated, we cheered him on from the bank, clapping to inspire courage to take this memorable leap.

While watching one girl’s retreat from the edge in her fifth internal debate on whether or not to jump, I wondered to myself whether I would hesitate.

A first-time solo traveler, I was forced during my week backpacking in Greece to step outside of my comfort zone. One of the lessons I learned was to live in the moment, and to heed my instinct.

Watching fellow travelers cliff jump in Ammoudi Bay, Oia, Santorini, filled me with a profound sense of longing. I wanted to jump, and yet there I sat on a lone boulder, slightly removed from other travelers sunbathing nearby, debating whether or not to jump.

Knowing full well that I didn't know the next time I would be back, I flip-flopped between listening to my adventurous soul or to practical thoughts about how I had no one to watch my backpack, how I hadn't thought ahead to wear my bathing suit beneath my clothes, how I didn't have anywhere to change, and how I didn't think I was a strong enough swimmer to make it out to the cliff.

As two young men emerged on the rocky bank from their latest jump, I asked how the water felt, if the current was strong. Immediately sensing my inner adrenaline seeker, they asked why I wasn't on that cliff.

In response to my practical debate, one threw me a towel for privacy as I changed, the other offered to guard my things and to save me if I started to drown. He claimed to be a certified lifeguard back home in Montreal, Canada. In retrospect, that could have been a joke, but gullible me was willing to believe.

Bikini-clad and belongings (and life) guarded by my new French Canadian pals, I swam out and climbed the cliff.

At the top, I took a deep breath before peering over the cliff's edge. Below, the cerulean and navy depths glistened in an almost tantalizing way.

The moment of truth— would I hesitate?

With another deep breath, I took two steps back, then took a running leap over the edge.

Go Forth

Photos: #TravelwithHaemee

A French Canadian Lifeguard and a Towel