{"id":77783,"date":"2024-10-18T06:49:09","date_gmt":"2024-10-17T19:49:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.intrepidtravel.com\/adventures\/?p=77783"},"modified":"2024-11-09T05:22:18","modified_gmt":"2024-11-08T18:22:18","slug":"mother-daughter-trip-crete","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.intrepidtravel.com\/adventures\/mother-daughter-trip-crete\/","title":{"rendered":"Mezes, mountain goats and mother-daughter memories in Crete\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Living half a world away from her family, Cliona misses the everyday moments with her mum back home. On a trip around Crete, she and her mum escape the everyday and find out home isn’t always a place.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Okay, mum, how do you say, \u201ccheers\u201d in Greek?\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Yiamas.\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Nice. What about \u201cgood morning\u201d?\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Calamari.\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn\u2019t keep a straight face. \u2018You mean \u201ckalimera\u201d, right?\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018That\u2019s the one!\u2019 The pair of us now creasing with laughter.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m en route to Heraklion with my mum for Intrepid\u2019s Highlights of Crete<\/a> trip. Sitting in the last row of the plane like two giddy school kids, we\u2019re cackling away as we try to learn a few Greek words to kill time during a runway delay.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Reuniting earlier that morning was an emotional blur of tears and big, squeezy hugs. With me living in Australia and Mum in the UK, we only see each other once a year. These moments are always a bittersweet reminder of how precious our time together has become.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was never my intention to move Down Under. I\u2019d been travelling in South East Asia for six months and my savings account had almost bled dry, but instead of going home, I decided a working holiday visa in Australia would be more fun. I thought I would stay for a year or two, but life did its thing and I\u2019m still here six years later.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Living on the other side of the world to my family, I\u2019ve had to make peace with my heart being tugged in opposite directions. Time whizzes by faster each year, and I can\u2019t help but question whether I should pack it all up to be closer to them. I miss the big milestones, of course, but it\u2019s the everyday moments \u2013 like watching Netflix with my sister or popping around my aunt\u2019s house for a coffee \u2013 that I yearn for the most. Perhaps a greater appreciation for the ordinary is a silver lining of living far away.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When planning my visit to the UK this year, I asked Mum if she\u2019d be keen to go on an adventure. We\u2019d never been away just the two of us, so it\u2019d be a great chance to have quality time together. \u2018That sounds great, love,\u2019 she replied. \u2018I\u2019ll let you decide where we go. I just don\u2019t want to feel like I need a holiday after the holiday.\u2019  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fair enough, I thought. As someone who rarely goes on holiday to rest (I\u2019m working on it), my idea of spending my annual leave wisely involves a pair of hiking boots and plenty of early starts. A trek was off the cards for Mum as she has arthritis in her knee, and we also wanted to go to a country neither of us had been to.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After hours of browsing different Intrepid trips, we landed on Highlights of Crete<\/a>. Starting in Heraklion and ending in Chania, we\u2019d spend a week eating our body weight in olives, meeting local artisans and lapping up Crete\u2019s sun-kissed scenery.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Meeting the group and our \u2018Greek mum\u2019 <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Strolling into the hotel lobby for our welcome meeting, I felt a flutter of excitement about meeting the other travellers \u2013 as I always do. But this time it was mixed with nerves. I\u2019m used to travelling solo, and it would be my first time navigating a group dynamic with someone who knows me inside out. Would Mum share any cringey stories or crack any inappropriate jokes? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought Mum might also be a little nervous as it was her first time doing small group travel, but she was totally relaxed about the thought of spending a week with strangers \u2013 which makes sense given that she chats with dozens of people every day at her salon.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our leader, Evelina, introduced herself as our \u2018Greek mum\u2019, and from that moment, it became a running joke that I had two mums. We took turns sharing our names, where we\u2019re from and why we chose this trip, and there was a collective \u2018n\u2019aww\u2019 when we revealed we were mother and daughter.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The last person to speak was the only man in our group. \u2018Aren\u2019t you lucky!\u2019 Mum said with her cheeky smile. Laughter rippled throughout the group and I couldn\u2019t help but join them. It didn\u2019t take long for the mum jokes to start, so surely it was only a matter of time before an embarrassing childhood tale came out of the woodwork. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Letting the mountain air go to our heads <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m privileged to have spent much of my adult life travelling. From teaching English in Vietnam to working at Intrepid, travel has always had a way of weaving into my personal and professional life. It was a different story for Mum; she had me quite young and sacrificed some of her dreams to raise me and my sister. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This trip was as much of a holiday as it was a chance to make up for our time apart. While we could\u2019ve gone for a sun, sand and sea getaway, I wanted her to experience the travel style I\u2019ve fallen in love with. One of my favourite things about Intrepid is staying in offbeat accommodation that I couldn\u2019t find myself. Such was the case with our guesthouse in the remote village of Agios Ioannis.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hidden in the foothills of Crete\u2019s White Mountains, the guesthouse is a total sanctuary. Each room faces the mountains and is filled with furniture handcrafted by Antonis, the owner, with wood from the surrounding forests. As we walked down the lavender-lined path to our room, Mum\u2019s face was beaming as bright as the afternoon sun. We dropped our bags and sat on the porch in silence, listening to tinkling bells and bleats of nearby goats before breaking into laughter when we realised they sounded like humans in hysterics. Perhaps the mountain air had already gone to our heads.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wandered inside to grab some water, and when I returned, Mum was still fixated on the view, her body unmoved apart from her hand which was now cupping her chin. \u2018This is just so beautiful\u2019, she repeated.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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We regrouped for dinner on the terrace that evening. Golden hour light trickled through a canopy of vines as our hosts brought out platters of creamy fava bean dip, Greek salad, slow cooked pork and barbequed goat. Everything was made by Anna, Antonis\u2019s wife, with ingredients from the property or the village. Next came dessert \u2013a syrup-soaked semolina cake washed down with raki, a local spirit made from distilled grapes. It was easily my favourite meal on the trip. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After dinner, two local musicians treated us to a folk music performance. Always one to get the party started, and perhaps spurred on by the raki, Mum and another woman from our group shimmied over to the patio-cum-dance floor while trying (and failing) to recruit the rest of us on their way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The following morning, we discovered that our alarms would be replaced by cockerels and goats. Mum rolled out of bed and opened the door to the mountains. \u2018It\u2019s just so beautiful,\u2019 she said. It was only day three when she told me this was probably one of the best holidays she\u2019s had. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Going bleating mad in Agia Irini Gorge <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Crete is one of the most rugged islands in the Mediterranean, with hundreds of gorges, canyons and caves cloaked in ancient history. By day four, after indulging in all the food and wine, we were ready for a seven-kilometre hike through Agia Irini Gorge. Mum had a few reservations as she\u2019d recently recovered from a painful arthritis flare-up, but she decided to join after a reassuring safety briefing from our mountain guide, Anna.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We arrived at the gorge just after sunrise to beat the crowds. The sage-scented morning air prickled my arms with goosebumps. The first half of the trail led us through a shaded forest of pine, plane and cypress trees. Anna plucked a few strands of wild oregano and passed them around the group. \u2018This was traditionally used for dental hygiene,\u2019 she explained. My tongue tingled with its peppery taste. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A large maroon-coloured flower stood out among the greenery. \u2018This is the dragon lily, or corpse flower, which smells like rotting meat to attract insects,\u2019 she revealed. \u2018We dry the seeds to make medicine.\u2019 Shortly after, she pointed out carob and fig trees. Mother Nature clearly blessed Crete. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In addition to its biodiversity, the gorge played a significant role in the island\u2019s history. It was a hideout for rebels and an escape route during the Ottoman occupation. Shepherds also took refuge here, using the fluffy Sideritis plant (also used for Greek mountain tea) as a bed.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The forest eventually gives way to a dried-up riverbed that had us scrambling over boulders as big as us. As we stopped for a breather, two kri-kri, endangered Cretan goats, darted across the rocky ridge. Mum then blurted out an exceptionally good bleat which got a response from the passing kri-kri and an enthusiastic \u2018wow\u2019 from Anna. Childhood memories of baaing and mooing our way around the countryside came flooding back.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A bit like driving for hours on a quiet highway, there\u2019s an ease to chatting on a hike. It opens space for reflection. \u2018You know,\u2019 Mum said, \u2018I thought my hiking days were over, but I\u2019m fitter than I thought I was. I\u2019m feeling inspired to be more active when I go home.\u2019 Knowing how down she\u2019d been about her knee, I couldn\u2019t help but get a bit teary-eyed when she said this. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pastries that pull at the heartstrings <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

One thing to know about Irish mammies is that they\u2019re feeders.<\/a> Even if you say you\u2019re not hungry, they\u2019ll bring out a \u2018light snack\u2019, AKA a platter of sandwiches, a tray of biscuits and steaming pots of tea. Mum has always loved hosting get-togethers for our large Irish family, waking up at the crack of dawn to bake cakes or peel spuds to feed twenty hungry mouths. Hospitality is her love language, which is why I think she was so moved by the baking workshop on day six. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we arrived, I was surprised to step out the taxi into a residential street where two smiley, apron-clad women were waiting to greet us. \u2018Kalimera, welcome!\u2019 I grinned at Mum. There was no going back from the calamari incident. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The workshop was run by lifelong friends Anna and Eleni in Eleni\u2019s mother\u2019s home. They ushered us to a veranda where a table was laden with herbs; the smell of parsley and mint hung in the air. Although we\u2019d just had breakfast, an empty pocket suddenly opened in my stomach. As we drank fresh lemonade that made my eyes squint with its sweetness, they explained that we\u2019d be making kalitsounia, a crescent-shaped Cretan pie filled with cheese and herbs. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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I went inside to wash my hands, noticing the family portraits and keepsakes dotted around the kitchen, before joining the group to start preparing the kalitsounia. As we stood around the table chopping herbs, in someone else\u2019s home miles away from where we both live, I almost felt like I was<\/em> home. It made me remember the countless times I\u2019d linger around the kitchen, trying my best to offer my skills as chief taste tester while Mum cooked. I couldn\u2019t remember the last time we did something so ordinary, so familiar. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once we had a full bowl, Eleni poured an eyebrow-raising glug of olive oil and raki. \u2018The more raki, the crispier the pastry,\u2019 she said. We dug teaspoons into two fat mounds of myzthra and anthoryro cheese before folding them into the herby mixture and rolling it into little balls. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sealing the dough was easier than it looked. Mum was a natural; me, not so much. Eleni and Anna took our creations to the oven before returning with an array of snacks and beverages to enjoy while they baked: spoon sweet (a syrupy fruit preserve), Greek yogurt, biscuits and coffee. Apparently Irish and Greek mammies have a similar notion of what a snack is.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t long until a delicious, doughy smell drifted from the house. Eleni marched out of the kitchen with a plate piled with kalitsounia, wine from her father\u2019s vineyard and raki. I turned to her and asked what time it was \u2013 by my watch it was only mid-morning. \u2018Time for raki!\u2019 she announced. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we said goodbye, I saw Mum lift her sunglasses to wipe her eyes. \u2018That was just so wholesome,\u2019 she said. \u2018I\u2019ve done cooking classes before, but never anything quite like that.’ My two cents is that she was so moved by the experience as she was on the receiving end of what she so openly gives to others. \u2018Let\u2019s invite the family around when we get back home,\u2019 she said. \u2018We\u2019ll make kalitsounia.\u2019 <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The moments that matter <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Our reunion would\u2019ve been special no matter where we were, but taking time away from everyday life allowed us to be fully present with each other. It gave us space to share new experiences and have those deeper conversations that don\u2019t always happen over Facetime. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we walked to our farewell dinner through the narrow alleys of Chania\u2019s Old Town, Mum and I reflected on our favourite moments from the trip. It wasn\u2019t just the landscapes or delicious meals that stood out, but the small moments in between \u2013 standing around a table chopping herbs, laughing at Mum\u2019s brilliant bleating skills and sharing stories and tears over coffee or beers. You\u2019d think these things wouldn’t bear so much weight when you\u2019re on a gorgeous Greek island, but they made me feel like we were making up for the everyday moments we miss out on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mum had said we\u2019d make kalitsounia when we got home, but life, as it often does, got in the way. But maybe it didn\u2019t matter. Making them in Eleni\u2019s mum\u2019s home was a reminder that home isn\u2019t so much about where you are, but who you\u2019re with. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cliona travelled with her mum on Highlights of Crete<\/a>, one of many itineraries to choose from in Greece<\/a>.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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