Crete, day two: Sun, snails, and the sacred order of Beef Limonata
Some days, travel is about climbing mountains, dodging scooters, chasing museums. Other days, it’s about surrender. Total, unapologetic surrender to the fine art of doing absolutely nothing. Today was the latter.
The pool at Amazones Village Suites**** is more than a place to cool off — it’s a stage for slow living. It glistens under the Cretan sun like a mirage you get to touch. I parked myself beside it with a book so good, a couple of Brits tried to nick it after I finished. Polite, of course — but with that glint in their eye that says “I need to know what happens next.”
Lunch at Amazones with was simplicity done right. A Greek salad: crisp cucumbers, juicy tomatoes, red onions that bite but don’t bark, and a slab of feta like a crown jewel — all drizzled in that golden, slightly peppery local olive oil that makes you understand why people build entire religions around this stuff. Calamari rings on the side — not rubbery, not chewy, but fork-tender, like they’d been slow-danced into submission. Add a cold tzatziki for dipping, and suddenly time didn’t matter anymore.
But as good as the poolside lounging and the light lunch were, dinner was where the universe leaned in and whispered: “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Kostas Tavern Meze — the kind of place that doesn’t need Instagram to validate it. Just good food, good people, and the kind of smells that grab you by the collar and pull you inside. We ordered the Beef Limonata, their special of the day — slow-simmered beef in a lemon sauce so delicate, so perfectly balanced, it felt like citrus had achieved its true destiny. Each bite was a revelation — fork-tender meat with that bright, tangy finish that made you slow down just to make it last.
But the meze. Oh, the meze.
We started with snails — not the dainty French kind, but the Cretan version: boiled in wine vinegar and rosemary, earthy, meaty, with a sharp, herby tang that makes you rethink everything you thought about escargot. Spetzofai followed — thick Greek sausage simmered with peppers in a rich sauce that practically begged for garlic bread to come in and clean up the mess. And then came the cheese flutes — crisp filo rolls stuffed with molten feta and sun-dried tomatoes, kissed with a drizzle of tomato jam. Savory, sweet, salty, crunchy — a textural symphony that made me stop mid-bite and just feel.
Amazing? Yes.
Inspiring? Absolutely.
Unbelievable? Maybe — if I hadn’t tasted it myself.
Crete doesn’t just feed you. It seduces you. One forkful at a time.
