The Luck of the....Greeks.

Perhaps it is my Irish blood, but I got lucky. I was born to a Greek man. Scratch that. A Greek man born and raised on the islands. I could not wish for a more beautiful place to call my second home. I've been equally blessed to have spent many summers on the island of Skopelos, but, I swear, every time I'm there, I think it is more stunning than the last. 

And it's a good thing it's beautiful—because the journey to Skopelos is not an easy one. Talk about planes, trains and automobiles...add in boats and taxis and hydrofoils. Atleast a donkey is no longer necessary. Nonetheless, I hope each of you is able to make the trip someday, and when you do, remember this moment, when I tell you: It's worth it.

Besides it's beauty and its overall ability to make stress and urgency melt away (like the ice cream I gobble up everyday at the beach), Skopelos is particularly special to me because of—well—my big, fat greek family. On the rare summer occasions we get to see each other, it feels as if no time has passed. They are, in short, amazing. But, I will get to that later.

For now, I will simply share the way of life, a life that (if you ask me) says America may have totally missed the boat. (Spare the economic jokes). Skopelos is known as a haven among the Greeks—mainlanders travel here for their summer vacations. That's right: their entire summer vacation. Thus, as soon as you step off the boat, time is not of the essence, relaxation ensues and you become one with islander life.

The cat knows the drill.

For me, it goes a little like this: wake to my internal clock's delight. Usually, I get up around 10 a.m. to go for a walk (You would think they were trying to double my size the way the feed me. Much of the food belongs here). It's usually a little cool, but with the sun quickly rising, the beach is calling. Quick breakfast then off to our choice of gorgeous beach for the day.

Once the sun wears, the paddle ball champion has been declared and the snorkle and flippers have gone for a good jaunt—we pack up, grab ice cream from the road side vendor at Agnondas beach and head home for a nap. Yes, that's right folks, we deserve a nap.

The sun coming in my window, beckoning me back from sleep.

The evening consists of a late dinner, a water front stroll and drinks. On Skopelos, even babies stay out until midnight. The party crowd rolls in once the babes go to sleep, which leads to inevitably more drinks (and Greek dancing if I'm lucky) until about 6:30 a.m. We might grab a gyro on the way home (did I mention they are trying to double my size?); definitely grab a little more pillow time, and then cycle begins again.

Ahhh...Now, I think I must enjoy a glass of wine and go back there in my mind...