Beyond the screens: connecting and reading together in Crete

The love of books and the Cretan spirit of storytelling and connection

Books have always been a way to listen to the world. Every page carries a voice, a memory, a piece of someone’s soul. Yet today, we see less and less of them in people’s hands. The old habit of reading is slipping away, just as the art of storytelling once filled every courtyard and every kafenio in Crete is fading too.

Our ancestors lived by stories. They passed them from mouth to mouth, by the fire, in the fields, while walking home at dusk. Stories were not entertainment — they were roots, teaching us who we are and how we belong. Without them, we lose connection not only to each other but also to the land beneath our feet.

My inspiration comes from Mark Nepo’s Seven thousand ways to listen, a book that reminds us how rich the world becomes when we truly listen — to nature, to others, and to ourselves. I wanted to create a space where listening is the heart of the gathering, where each page and each story can speak freely, and where we can reconnect with the rhythms of life here in Crete.

That is why I’ve started something small in Alagni village:

A monthly gathering for reading and connecting together.

We meet in the village (next to the well) and walk to a quiet place — maybe under olive trees, maybe near a chapel, maybe on a terrace where the mountains breathe around us. If it rains, we simply find shelter. Each of us brings a book. There is only one rule: no mobiles.

We sit together in silence, each reading what speaks to us. For an hour there is no rush, no screens, no interruptions. Only pages turning, wind moving through the branches, the sound of birds, maybe goats passing by.

Afterwards, we share what we brought — coffee, tea, biscuits, fruit. If someone wishes, they can read aloud a passage from their book, or simply tell a story of their own. Nothing forced, no script, only what flows naturally.

Perhaps it is all about rituals we forgot — simple acts that connect us to our roots, to each other, and to this land. It is simple. It is human.

A way to honor books, to keep alive the Cretan spirit of storytelling, and to remember that connection does not always need words — sometimes it is enough to sit side by side, reading, rooted in silence together.

If many people come, it becomes a circle of shared presence. If only one arrives, it is still a gathering. And if no one comes, I go alone, with my book. Because the ritual itself has meaning — it is my way of listening, of rooting, of thanking the ones before us who lived through story.

If you find yourself in Alagni — whether you are from Crete or from far away — you are welcome. Bring a book you love. Leave your phone behind. Let us read together, and in silence, connect.

See you there!

Tonia ❤️