It looks beatifully serene out there. Travelling in the shuttle from the airport at Heraklion, along the coastal highways carved out of the volcanic rocks, the place that comes to mind is gran canaria. The sky is pale blue to the left of us over the sea, whilst cumulus clouds hang overhead to the right over the hilly mounds that line our route.
The greenery is lush from a distance, but up close the shrubs appear more hardy. Like desert plants that retain as much moisture as possible,
The rock beside the road, Jesus rocks, overhanging and jagged, the clouds so low they cast shadows on the ground. Shrubs in clumps push themselves from widows peak cracks in the amber and white chalked landscape.
Here electricity runs overground, through pilons that stride across the hills and thick trunk poles that line the roads
Our shuttle pulls to the left of the road and up ahead I can see the sign that says Diaos Cove. We’ve arrived at our destination.