This tiny village on Crete's south coast, right on the Libyan Sea, captured our hearts immediately. A rare kind of magic keeps drawing us back to this place, whose name translates roughly to "straw" in German — and it has often been our lifeline whenever the weather back home in Germany turned miserable, the job became too stressful, and the general outlook was simply bleak and grey. But why?

This village doesn't even have a public bus connection, and it isn't particularly pretty either — scattered concrete skeletons of unfinished buildings beside abandoned tavernas spoil the view. So what is the secret of this seduction, where does this strange force come from that courses through your veins and expands the soul, as Crete's most famous son once put it? One reason is certainly the prevailing deceleration of everyday life: "sigá, sigá" — slowly, slowly is how life unfolds here. No rush — just pure tranquility.

Even the journey to this peaceful little beach hamlet is meditative. Coming from the hectic bustle of Iráklion, you drive for about two hours along endless avenues of olive trees, the monotonous chirping of cicadas always in your ear, and then the deep blue sea appears on the horizon — the road seems to lead straight into it. Anyone who has been here once will be greeted exuberantly by the locals the following year, warmly embraced and kissed by the guesthouse owners — you've arrived, you're home.

There are no large hotels; the apartments and guesthouses won't be found in any travel catalogue. Those who come here want to be exactly here, to be tickled by the sun while their soul rocks gently in the waves of the sea — nothing else. The seemingly endless beach, one of the most beautiful on the south coast, is hardly crowded even in July and August.

Here you relax on comfortable loungers under shade-giving parasols — completely free of charge. A courtesy of the taverna owners who offer cosy spots right at the waterfront. Then you dine beneath tamarisk trees with a view of the flickering silver of the sea, sip the mellow house wine, and gaze together at the Paximádi Islands, behind which the sun sinks fire-red into the sea — hoping this soulful moment may never end ...

In the rustic tavernas it's still customary to peek into the pots and choose your meal. Tip: In Kalamaki, Frangiskos Kiomourtzakis and his taverna "Avra" at the northern end of the beach promenade stand for delicious traditional cuisine — be sure to try the rabbit dishes! In Sivas, a charming mountain village about ten minutes' drive from Kalamaki, Sofia and Jannis run their taverna "Sactouris" right on the village square with great passion and finesse. Sofia grew up in Düsseldorf, speaks perfect German, and is a warm-hearted hostess. Her husband Jannis cooks "like the grandparents used to." Recommended: kid goat in red wine tomato sauce, lamb in foil, or the diverse vegetarian dishes (www.sactouris-sivas.com).

Update: Appears to be permanently closed.