Nate and I found a flight from Cyprus to the biggest island in the chain, Crete, to start our own perfect trip through paradise. We started on the west end of Crete in a town called Chania (pronounced not at all like it looks) where some couch surfers met us for a drink and taught me about cold espresso freddo. I was skeptical when I learned the liquid was served in dixie cup-sized portions, but all doubts were removed upon tasting that sweet nectar of the gods. If you are ever in Greece, do yourself a favor and have an espresso freddo. Capiche? (/Uncle Jesse catchphrases)
From Chania, we moved on quickly to a tiny inland village called Vafes because we had some couch surfing hosts there. Greg and Anna were a sweet as an espresso freddo. They gave us their spare room, cooked for us, and introduced us to a small shop owner/old olive oil press tour guide. The village was so small -- like sheep-being-herded-down-the-road-with-a-moped small -- but there stood a lone souvenir shop with a man who would take curious travelers across the street to show them how donkeys were employed to press olive oil three-quarters of a century ago. I've forgotten his name, sadly, but the shopkeeper ended up being quite the kindred spirit. He'd traveled pretty extensively in his youth and was eager to swap stories.