Back in 2007, long before blogging was a thing, a boy and girl (and that girl’s parents) went on holiday. It was a last minute decision by the boy, so he booked an apartment on the other side of a Cretan town from the girl and her parents. Which didn’t stop the girl from spending every minute with the boy. Or illegally staying in his single occupancy apartment. (Sorry Cretan authorities.) And one night, after a beautiful meal to celebrate the girl’s parents wedding anniversary, the boy and the girl headed back across town. The boy held hands with the girl and asked her to walk along the moonlit beach. The girl, decked in a pair of high wedges, laughed.
The girl sighed. If she took off her shoes, her feet would get all sandy and she’d have to take another shower before bed, and she was too tired and too full of ouzo for that. And so the boy and girl walked along the road, past bars offering three for one vodka red bulls and lurid cocktails. The boy seemed a little fidgety. As they entered the boy’s apartment, he suggested a drink on the balcony. Being a cheap(ish) last-minute booking, the boy’s balcony simply overlooked the balcony of another apartment block. The girl bends down to finally unstrap those pesky wedges. When she lifts her head, wedge in hand, the boy is kneeling in front of her. A flash of diamond. A thin band of white gold.
A balcony with no view, a bag of Cheetos and a bottle of 2 Euro Cretan wine. And the boy that the girl loves. The girl thinks the moment is perfect. The perfect Greek proposal. In the early hours of July 23rd 2007. And a moment that she will remember for all time.
This tale first appeared in the blog post Travel Moments That Spark Joy and has been revisited here to celebrate that it’s 13 years today since I said “I Will” to Mr Fletche!