Setting Foot

I do genuinely wonder how comedic it looked to see two random idiots rushing outside onto the deck and towards the bow.

In the distance we could see the smallest blip of land, but that was just fine for us because it gave us time to prepare for the big reveal portion of the documentary. I had to take care to position the camera just right to avoid the ropes secured to the metal cleats as well as the long mast at the head getting in the way.

It was honestly super tempting to recreate that iconic “King of the World” scene in Titanic, but now really wasn’t the time…

But dammit! Now I was mentally kicking myself for not thinking of that earlier!

We spent several minutes blocking and rehearsing the big shot, though from an outside perspective I can only imagine what we looked like. With Aaron pacing around while reciting his lines to himself and me wandering up and down the sides trying to determine the best angle to capture from.

Some crew stood nearby giving us mixed looks, but thankfully they weren’t trying to stop us. I think they were just making sure we weren’t messing around with anything or at a safety risk.

I lowered the camera to take in the island for myself for a minute when we were just a few miles out. Sometimes I had to force myself to remember to take these things in with my own eyes rather than my camera’s, especially when it came to experiences like this that I’ll never get another chance at.

Looking at it I can now see why Cyrenádos didn’t house its own airport; I can’t imagine there’s a flat enough surface anywhere for one. The green-covered mountains loomed high with some winding trails slithering like a snake all around the island. I was amazed at just how green it was considering the Mediterranean temperatures.

The closer we got the more details I was able to make out other thank just rock and grass – I could see the cloister of white buildings that climbed up the natural slope of the land on one side. There were splashes of blue painted on the buildings, a traditional custom in Greek villages from what I’ve read. It was very pleasing to the eye to watch it sway ever closer…

… Ah crap!

I snapped myself out of my dazed stupor. That’s enough dawdling, time to work.

“Aaron, you ready?” I asked him. He turned to me, double-checked his mic, and then nodded.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

I found a great spot on the sun deck that I had chosen to be my starting point and made my way up. I looked over the side and gave a thumbs up to Aaron, telling him I was beginning to record. He gave one back and I lifted my pride and joy up to get rolling.

I started with a glamoured shot of the sapphire blue sails, lingering on them just long enough to get the full effect of them blowing strongly in the breeze.

Then, slowly, I lowered the angle down as I steadily made my way down the steps – all the while praying to whatever could hear my mental freakout that I please not fall and break my neck.

Or worse, my camera.

Miraculously, albeit shakily, I managed to safely make it down while still capturing the sails, positioning myself to where they acted as my metaphorical stage curtains.

Finally, with just some clever maneuvering on my part, the island was revealed to the lens, and I made sure to linger on its glory for a good solid minute.

When I felt I had gotten enough, I glanced in Aaron’s direction and wordlessly signaled him to get ready because I was about to turn to him. He gave me the go ahead and I stepped back to slide him into frame.

“Aphrodite herself was said to be carried on a Triton-drawn chariot across this very sea, with one shielding her from the sun with a silk parasol while another held a golden mirror to his mistress’ flawless face. A third lead the band in their charge, blowing softly on an echoing shell horn; a symbolic calling to her ties to them, to the sea.”

Damn he was good at storytelling. Not as good as me, of course, but still commendable.

“One thing that I haven’t been able to find out in my research is… If this island holds such sacred ties to the Goddess of Love herself, how has it been hidden away for so long? I’m hoping the locals will be more forthcoming with those answers.”

The sound of the foghorn blared suddenly, startling me into nearly dropping my camera. I took that as the queue to cut, just in time before the Captain’s voice told us to begin collecting our things and preparing to dock.

It already had a way different feeling to when we arrived in Larnaca, which held an intrinsic mesh of old and new culture alike. This place felt more like we had stepped backwards in time to a period of more humble times, untouched by technology or greed. Not necessarily medieval; just a typical Cycladic village type setting.

There were colorful trees with blossoming petals, old fashioned pottery painted in unique patterns, and there was hardly a car to be seen.

It was very peaceful. I liked it very much.

That is… until I noticed the welcoming party waiting at the dock.

Like how you're greeted with leis made of fresh flowers in Hawaii, there was a group of women dressed in pure white off-the-shoulder peasant gowns with thin gold ropes tied around their waists. Several had necklaces made of shimmering seashells while others wore modest gold jewelry.

They all bore smiles and held baskets of yellow roses tucked into the crook of one of their arms as they patiently waited for every guest to safely depart from the boat.

Were these the Greek equivalent of a Hula Girl…?

Aaron nudged me, and I quickly snapped out of my thoughts and refocused my eye through the camera.

Everyone else was all smiles and even Aaron was grinning like an idiot at the welcome party before us, but I couldn't help but feel off about it.

A woman with dark hair tied up in a loose bun, a flower I didn’t recognize tucked behind her ear, approached me and kindly handed me a yellow rose from her basket. I awkwardly took it to be polite, though I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

"Welcome to Cyrenádos." She told me in a lilting voice, flashing me a dazzling smile through the camera.

“Er-” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t really tell what was actually bothering me. I aimlessly followed behind Aaron as we were herded with the crowd down the port towards the village.

But I found myself pausing when I saw where the pure white of the stone met with the almost equally bright sugary textures of sand.

Aaron pressed on with no problem, flashing me an amused smirk as he walked blatantly onto its surface without a care in the world. I let him have his fun moment before slowly trailing behind.

According to legend you're destined to find your fated pair the moment you set foot on this island's sands… It's supposed to make you excited, and it seemed it was certainly working for everybody else.

So why did I just feel a chill run down my spine the second I did…?