Gavdos: Life on a Greek Desert Island

In 1990, Gavdos was still a place where people did what they wanted, just because they could. There was a price for that freedom, though. The island had no plumbing, no reliable electricity, no grocery stores, banks, gas stations, paved roads or anything one would expect to find in a European destination. There wasn't even a souvenir shop.

So, how did a modern girl like me end up in a place like this? How else? I was in love with a Greek guy.

We had become acquainted while seeing each other at work. I was a tour guide for groups of nature lovers who traipsed through the Samaria Gorge. It was a 10 mile trek from the top of a mountain range to the south shore of Crete with trails not meant for women in sandals. The half-way point of the Samaria Gorge was a Warden's Station, complete with a Doctor and emergency transportation which was provided by a local mustachioed character and his donkey. For about $10, he would hoist a poor soul with a twisted ankle onto the saddle and lead the donkey down to the port to be taken by boat to the nearest town with a bus stop. From there, it was only a couple hour ride on the bus to the hospital on the north side of Crete. The knowledge of what would be in store for them if they didn't watch their step kept all of my charges out of the Samaria Gorge Doctor's office. The doctor was a nice looking guy, fresh out of medical school, and the most eligible bachelor for miles around, so there were plenty of uninjured girls wanting to visit with him.

When the tourist season ended that year, Doc asked me to come up to his village and give him private English lessons. I laughed and told him he would have to do better than that. It wasn't a very original line for a Greek. We went our separate ways but ran into each other in town about six months later. The attraction that had simmered the summer before burst into full boil and we were inseparable after that.

Doc was doing his obligatory two year service in the Army when we met, which is why he had the job in the Samaria Gorge. The Army generously volunteered their doctors to do the jobs no practicing doctors in their right minds would do. He didn't mind, since it got him off the dreary army base and into a paradise with a constant parade of tourist girls wearing provocative outfits with the excuse that it was just too hot to wear more. Bikini tops and shorts, clingy t-shirts dampened with perspiration or purposely made wet with the cold river water, made for more interesting scenery than a bunch of guys wearing green uniforms.

When the Army offered Doc a similar position on the island of Gavdos, he told me he would go, but only if I would go with him. Are you kidding? Move with a doctor to a Greek island? Watch how fast I can pack!

So here we were, swaying on the little mail boat at sunrise with what we thought we would need to live for the next six months on Gavdos. We hadn't been able to visit the island before deciding to move there, and for some reason, we couldn't get a lot of information about what life would be like. Had we known, I doubt if the Doc would've taken me there, and he definitely wouldn't have gone on his own.

The port looked fairly modern with a cement jetty and two small tavernas on either side. We were to learn that eating at one or the other would set off a feud between the two families. A battered El Camino was at the dock waiting to take us to our new home. We heard it was on a hill with a view and no neighbors, and was reserved for the island doctor. Since we had brought along our moped to get around on the island, Doc went with the boxes, and I followed along on the moped. As soon as we left the jetty, I found that none of the roads were paved and they could've used some grading, too. One place was so steep that I had to get off and push the moped until the road leveled out. I figured it was a small price to pay for the private home that was waiting for us at the top of the hill in the center of the island.

When I caught up with the El Camino, it was parked in front of the island Doctor's office which was separated by a hall from the Mayor's office. It was a small, one room office with a cement floor, some cabinets with boxes of pharmaceutical supplies and medicines, an exam table and a twin bed. No chair, no desk. Our boxes had been brought into the office and Doc was sitting on one of them with his head in his hands. He didn't look up when I walked in and I just felt it in the air that we may not have arrived in paradise.

He told me that the house was currently occupied by the school teacher, so we couldn't live there until school was out. It was April. I said that was okay, but where would we live? He looked around and said we would have to stay in the office. Gulp. Okay, first things first. I had to go to the bathroom.

The driver of the El Camino, who was also in charge of the post office, the island's two telephones, and the local mini-market/coffee shop/bar, said to follow him. I thought he was taking me someplace in the building with an outside entrance, but we set off on foot down the dirt road, across a field, and ended up in front a roughly built little outhouse with a hole in the floor. The door was falling off the hinges, but I did manage to shut it. I hope you aren't waiting for me to tell you there was a way to flush, or that there was even toilet paper.

When I was finished, my guide was gone and I found my way back to the Doc on my own. He had done some exploring of his own and come up with a bottle of Metaxa 3-star cognac, a drink easier to find than water. MUch easier to find. I used a little to wash my hands and we sat down to discuss the situation.

We had no choice but to share the twin bed. An outdoor kitchen was set up by putting a propane stove top and propane bottle in a covered area between the doctor's and mayor's offices. It sat on an old bookcase, so there were a couple shelves for pots and pans and other kitchen supplies. Until I actually went to use the stove top, I didn't realize that there was nothing that served as a sink. This shouldn't have surprised me, since there was no water. Before we could get too worked up about any of this, the locals were starting to drop by to introduce themselves to the new doctor and check out his girlfriend. They brought little gifts of food and wine for our first night there and we sat out on the long cement walkway in front of the office to chat until the sun started to set.

The neighbors left while it was still light in order to see their way home along the rough dirt roads with no street lights. The El Camino was one of two vehicles on the island, so everyone walked to where they needed to go. We went inside and flipped the light switch and laughed when it failed to light up the single bulb hanging from a wire in the middle of the ceiling. We were discussing whether or not the bulb was burned out and what to do about it, when the El Camino man returned with candles. He informed us that the solar panels and storage batteries were on the blink, but hopefully someone would be out to work on them in a week or two.

We lit the candles, drank the wine, ate the local offerings of meat and cheese pies, and fell asleep on the twin bed. Thus began the experience of a lifetime on the tiny island of Gavdos.