Wonderfully Wanderlust

The night was cold but I didn’t feel it. The air was still although we were creating so much motion. The sky was black as ink, the ground being kept alight by our energy. We were three friends on the brink of falling in love in three different ways.

The largest island of the Greek isles, the birthplace of the god Zeus, where men sported large mustaches and black clothing, was where I had found myself. The voyage from Athens to Crete was exhausting, arriving when the sun was greeting the world and the day was about to begin. I had never seen water as clear as the Aegean’s on that beautiful morning. I remember thinking that this is what paradise must look like, water so transparent that you can see the formation of the sand beneath the surface and sunlight so strong it forced one to squint in order to avoid a headache. We made our way through the Venetian port, boats and yachts sitting comfortably side by side gazing onto the colorful facades of each building. We breakfasted on delicious ice-cold café frappes, perfect to quench our fast approaching thirst. The air was thick with humidity and our day old clothes clung to our bodies as an infant does to a mothers back.

The love affair began as night arrived.

David, the handsome Spaniard, locked eyes with Eirini, the exquisite Greek, while we were eating starters. Fried calamari, tzatziki, Greek style bruschetta brushed with olive oil and topped with diced tomatoes and garlic. The soon to be lovers’ eyes danced to their own rhythms across the table. Wine was poured as soon as your glass was empty.

More food arrived. Copious amounts of chargrilled lamb, soft and succulent, plates of deep friend potatoes cut into strips. A tango started to play from the outdated speakers. Julien, the charismatic Frenchman, invited a woman from another table to dance. Their tango was perfect, in the middle of the street, midnight having left us, all eyes on them to wonder at their beauty. More wine was served.

We didn’t know how long David’s love was to last, Julien’s love was momentary, but the love that was ignited in me that night was to remain a lifetime. A love of adventure, of meeting new souls, of experiencing new cultures. A love of wanting to live in the moment, holding onto it with all my might, trying to imprint it within my mind, and then reluctantly letting it go along with the fading night.

Even though I let it go, it is always with the hope that a new memory will be brought on the wings of the morning light.