I draw a breath. Instantly hit with hot earthiness, toasted pine and a distant whiff of salt, I’m trying to have my eyes wide open to fully take these new surroundings in — but every inch of every thing seems to be drenched in blazing sun rays. It takes a while until my vision adapts a little, and an all-white backdrop starts to break into detailed pieces — magenta drops of blossoming bougainvillea upon white-washed walls of bucolic buildings, dusted green of old olive trees, shimmer of the sea in the distance.

I stand on the island of Kos, one of a few thousands in Greek dominion. It is a long-awaited journey. Like almost everyone else on the planet, my husband and I were confined in our home for the past few months, left to marinate in our thoughts and fully feel our own physical presence. While my love and appreciation for the home I have grew manyfold, and there were lots of self-discoveries made along the way, this lack of interaction with the outside world made any destination seem like a Neverland. Unreachable. Mysterious. Magical.

And here we are. A blissful week of first post-pandemic (can it be post-pandemic yet?) holiday with absolutely no set agenda ahead of us. It’s not easy though; I’ve always been ‘hurry up, we need to see everything’ kind of person. Thankfully, Kos is a tiny place — one hour drive takes you across the island and back. It feels so luxurious not to mentally obsess over a long list of places, because there is no such list.

I remember a Greek word I once saw somewhere — ‘eunoia’. It means ‘beautiful thinking’, a ‘well mind’. And in that moment, with a ripe peach in my hand, tilting my head to the sun, I finally know how it feels to have eunoia. It feels golden.

Instead, there’s all the time in the world (within this one week we have here) to savour the simple things. We eat simple Greek food — mainly grilled — seafood and cheeses accompanied by icy glasses of house rose. We lay on a beach, slowly falling into a delicious drowse with a soft wave soundtrack. We do one day make our way to a remote beach, which we have completely to ourselves and channel our wild side, running naked into the sea. Cuddled by the sun, we embrace each other, and it feels new and special. I wear simple clothes and no make up, feeling liberated and whole. These seven days with nowhere specific to be remind me of why I missed these escapes so much — they offer a pathway to oneself.