Day 24 Island of Crete, Greece

On these cruises, you get questionnaires to death. You’re asked to rate everything—from Below Expectations to Really Exceeded Expectations. Today, in general, was a Met Expectations day. Not bad. Not great. Just… typical.

Donna didn’t feel well this morning and decided to sit out the excursion. Honestly, I didn’t blame her one bit. I had breakfast, made my way to Bus Group #6, set my QuietVox to Channel 6, and waited for the day to begin. I was solo.

The more we travel, the more difference collapses into sameness. Another church. Another castle. Another square. Another saint. Another gift shop selling magnets and scarves made somewhere else. Our eyes have done their job too well—they’ve learned the pattern. It starts to feel like a Hallmark Movie template, port after port after port. Just shoot me now.

What’s happening isn’t that these places lack value. It’s that novelty has been exhausted. When the brain can predict what comes next, wonder shuts down. For a visual thinker, that flattening happens faster and faster. If I’m being honest, a lot of my travel over the years has been about collecting places—check the box. We’re over 40 countries now. A lot of boxes have been checked. Today was another one of those days. And it’s not Crete’s fault.

Our bus made its way to the Palace of Knossos, a site whose importance is beyond dispute. Often described as the ceremonial and political center of the Minoan civilization, Knossos is layered with history, myth, and interpretation. I’ll admit I was disappointed to learn how much of what we see today is reconstruction—early 20th-century attempts to give form to something time nearly erased. But then I caught myself: what’s the alternative, to leave it as a carefully labeled pile of stones and ask visitors to imagine the rest? This wasn’t just a palace, but a center of knowledge—administration, trade, art, and early engineering converged here. Maybe reconstruction, imperfect as it is, is less about accuracy and more about keeping the idea of what once existed alive enough for us to stand inside it and think.

From there, the bus climbed into the mountains toward Arolithos, a place that feels like a strange hybrid—part historical site, part tourist stop, part hotel. It doesn’t quite settle into one identity, but the setting helps smooth over the edges. The views across Crete from up here are wonderful. It’s the off-season, so only a couple of buses were there—Viking buses, of course—which gave the place a bit of breathing room. I couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to stay here for a few days and watch how the light and colors shift throughout the day. I think I came away with a couple of images that will eventually turn into watercolors once we’re home.

We took the “Panoramic Tour”—which is cruise-speak for a bus ride back to the port. Donna was feeling better by then. We met up, grabbed lunch at the Pool Grill, and followed it with a much-needed nap.

Around 4:30, we FaceTimed the kids back in Indiana to wish Keara a happy birthday. Thirty-four years old. Yikes. It feels like only yesterday we were 34. What happened?

Dinner was with Pam and Joel, and once again we didn’t seem to run out of things to talk about. By the time the World Café head waiter stopped by to gently remind us they’d be closing the line in 15 minutes, the four of us had gone through a bottle of red Joel brought along and the bottle of Champagne we purchased. We had a full meal, ice cream with Cherry Jubilee for dessert, Champagne in our glasses, and good friends at the table.

Life doesn’t get any better than this.

If you ever hear me bitching about my life, you have my permission to slap me—but then please fill my wine glass again.

⸻

#Crete #IslandOfCrete #Knossos #Arolithos #MediterraneanCruise #VikingCruise #TravelReflections #SlowTravel #Overtourism #SeeingTooMuch #StillGrateful #FriendsAndWine #LifeAtSea #FindPenguins #RetiredLife #TravelBlog #Perspective #GoodCompanyRead more