Hello Real World—Alonissos is Better

It's nearly time to head to Alonissos again. I've already begun my packing. During winter I dream of that island. My days in Greece are magical and I write constantly, submitting to whatever the muse thinks needs written. The workshop has always been fantastic. The women writers are gifted and kindred spirits. 

Last year I dragged my laptop on the three day journey each way, on and off planes, up and down stairs and ramps deep in the bowels of ferries. I climb so many stairs that they seem as much a part of Greece as the blinding white light and colorful villages built into hillsides. 

It's like traveling with a Stairmaster

But never again, I promised myself, will I take my laptop to Greece. Turns out I'm always much too busy writing to work on my laptop. A pile of sharp pencils and a notebook are all I need to write. Writing by hand is how the Women Reading Aloud workshops work. 

Writing by hand is magical if I've never told you before. I think our brain and deep writer voice work about that speed.

Last year I nearly lost a couple feet boarding a rocking ferry in bad weather while dragging my luggage and laptop. Waves shoved the ship up and I stepped forward clutching all my luggage to show my passport, so absorbed in what I was doing that I didn't realize my toes were under the rocking ramp. Fortunately the guy behind me noticed and pulled me back before the ship came down again. 

That only serves to strengthen my resolve to leave my electronics with all excess baggage at home. 

After the workshop had ended last September, I stayed longer to write more, to do some research for a book, and to be still. One of the things I enjoy about the island I go to in the Northern Sporades is the quiet. I recognize people after all these years. The first couple days I meet up with friends and hike or go swimming at night. 

This past trip I finally saw a monk seal for the first time in all the years I've gone to my workshop. Alonissos is a marine park. It's a preserve for the seals, but there's one seal who the locals call Billy who likes to sun himself on some of the same beaches tourists enjoy. 

Billy was deep into his bliss as I watched him from a distance. Rumor has it that Billy bites. I could just imagine me trying to explain a seal bite to my husband when I got home. While I stood near Billy he never moved until I muttered to myself, is he alive? He lifted his head as though he'd heard me and gave me a look before quickly ducking back into bliss position just as I made a move for my camera. I like him.

He doesn't pander.

In the evenings on Alonissos I sit on my balcony and write by candlelight. Greece is so hot during the day that people tend to stay in for siesta and come out late for dinner. It's not unusual for children to play in the park at midnight or for music from the tavernas to drift up to my room until four in the morning. 

Sitting at my small table overlooking the Aegean Sea I write, enjoying the cooler night air while curtains dance in the breeze and I sip cup after cup of sagey mountain tea sweetened with local honey.

On my last night I paid tribute to the port that unfolded below my balcony; to the tiny Scops owls I only ever hear (but someday hope to see just like the monk seal); to the moon that lit the dark sky before waning away as my days turned into weeks and then a month; to the loud ferries; and the limes growing from trees over the stairwell that bumped my head when I went past. 

Now I'm home and prepping for this year's journey. Over the winter I sorted through piles and miles of books. It desperately needed to be done. It made me smile to discover that I have a small pile of Goodnight Moon books. I have the cardboard one from when my kids were babies, versions for older kids, and some in other languages (I used to try to sneak learning in while they were too small to notice). I even recently bought a copy of Goodnight Lab—a clever knock off for the newest baby in the family. No wonder I had to write my own version from my balcony overlooking the Port of Alonissos, Patitiri. 

Goodnight port, goodnight Scops owls whispering whom.

Goodnight light and the waxing moon.

Goodnight ferries, goodnight limes, goodnight lavender,  goodnight rhymes.

Goodnight Alonissos and these magical times.

If you want to chat about the book world and writing, sign up for my monthly newsletter. Drop me your email at TheGlitterGlobe@gmail.com. Wonderful things have been happening around here.

Some of this year's writerly travels will be found here on my blog. Though I plan to do more floating than fooling with WiFi this year. I'll be working at writing speed, one foot in front of the other speed, pencil on paper speed. That's the speed of magic, did you know? Slow magic is my thing.