Sunny little stories

I want to tell you something about my lifelong love affair with this little village in the mountains of Crete, called Pinés. To anyone driving past, it might seem like just another quiet and abandoned Cretan mountain village. But I’ll let you in on a well-kept secret; the best villages seem that way. You see, Pinés doesn’t have a road that runs through it, it only has a road that runs around and past it, into the mountains towards Heraklion. Which is why, for many people, Pinés was never a destination but merely an insignificant village you drive past to get to the next. And because of that, the valley of Pinés lies undisturbed, under its cloak of insignificance and invisibility. But little do these people know, there is an energy here, a flow of life, that is rare to find. It takes a while to tap into this flow. It goes without saying that the magic of the valley is only revealed to those who look for it with it intention, those who are present, and in the moment. I think you probably know what I’m talking about as otherwise you wouldn’t have landed on this page. As descendants of the Greek gods and children of Greek myth, The Cretans are always happy to add to this magic. Someone once told me that the people in Pinés used to live until a 110 years old because they were sheltered from the salt sea breeze by the mountains that hold the village in a warm embrace. And whether it’s true or not, I’m always charmed by these ‘folk tales’. 

After a couple of days in Pinés, when you’ve settled in, you’ll find that those houses you thought abandoned, are actually filled with life and people. I’m not going to pretend that there’s a lot of people by Western-European standards. I always joke that there are probably more sheep in Pinés than people, and I don’t think that’s far from the truth. But still, there’s more than you would imagine. A rainbow coloured bunch of Cretans, foreigners, artists, musicians, gardeners, wise women, you name it. All deeply connected to the village, or as the Greek call it; ‘to chorió’, and the valley that we all hold so dearly. A valley that offers abundance every year. Olives, figs and lemons grow endlessly on the trees and the water well at the centre of the village is home to a growing glint of… goldfish. Every village needs its mystery, and these orange friends keep our waters clean. Small villages tend to have fragile ecosystems and infrastructure and from when I was eleven years old, I have seen the impact that one single individual can have on a village and its community. Whether it is our neighbour across the road tending to his vegetable garden and putting fresh produce on our doorstep or our local musician installing solar lights around the water well, because of whom we can now enjoy a night-time stroll through the village, not only guided by the stars but also by the sun. It is an exceptional feeling to live in a place where people care so much. Someone, whom I feel needs a special mention, is Giorgos, who, together with his husband, brought the local taverna back to life. After it became known that the taverna was going to close last year, Giorgos, born and bred Pinésian, couldn’t bear seeing the village go without a Kafenión and decided to throw his life around and start his Mezerestaurant ‘Mamma Mio’. And again, the energy of Pinés lifted. From ‘to spitaki ston ílio’ you can see the fairly lights of Mammio Mio twinkle through the olive trees and you can find yourself there, enjoying fine food and drinks within a 10 minute stroll from the house. Marvelling at the views from Mamma Mio over the valley and the mountains, I don’t think words will be necessary anymore. You will be invited into the magic and wonder of the village willingly.