Early September is hot and humid. It doesn’t bother me at all, even though everyone around me is grumbling about it.
I arrived at Crete, without a plan or any expectations. I wanted to let go and allow this island to just take me where I was supposed to go.
That’s how I first came to an organic farm dating from the 17th century, surrounded by lush orchards, vineyards, and olive groves.
Unexpectedly, this place is also a hotel with 3 stone, rustic (luxury) villas (Danae, Kynthia, and Kyriakos), where you can come when you want time to stop and to find solace.
Hear stories about Venetian dukes and Ottoman pashas (they will appear to you in deep sleep, with their faces, costumes, dark skin, and mustaches). If you snuggle up well among the avocado and mango trees, something you didn’t expect will reach you as well – the seductive perfumes of jasmine flowers and eucalyptus.
No, this is not a 5-star resort, this is an organic farm. No make-up, no glitter, and no plastic. There is no restaurant or cafeteria.
What I liked most was that the grass had grown and was not freshly cut, the bushes were tufted, and new shoots of life were sticking out everywhere, right next to the old ones, without which this place would not respect nature and life as such.
I slipped between trees with buds that itches and loves at the same time.
This is a family property. The first person who ran this farm was a woman, the great-grandmother of the current owner and manager of the hotel, Danai Kindles. Of course, she was a revolutionary for that time, because she did everything herself (which nowadays is almost every day).
Hotel guests eat organic food from the garden, their refrigerators are filled every day with fresh vegetables and fruits from the garden, natural juices, and marmalades.
And then Danai appeared. Sophisticated and warm. The intonation and color of her voice are familiar to me.
We talked briefly, but enough that I could feel her. I know that we will meet again somewhere, at the opening of some exhibition, or maybe right here at her place again, at some super alternative workshop for the curious kinds (I’ve already started thinking…).
I can imagine her writing, painting, singing, designing, and restoring….
I don’t know much about her, but I believe her talents are extraordinary.
I want to believe that her greatest talent is in preserving tradition through generations. In combining such important values.
In respect of the family tree. If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be here today.
The seed from which we came, the poetry and sounds that those before us created, the plants they planted.
Thank you Metohi Kindelis and Danai, I will come back to you (same as when you came back home).
P.S. special thanks to the lady who welcomed me and showed me the place with an emotional and personal touch of belonging. I look forward to seeing your children’s books.
Curated by Nataša Nikodijević Savin