Usually while on the trail, if the hiking boots are off and I’m crossing water, I can’t wait to get to the other side.

Typically, the stones are slippery, the water frigid, and the current swift enough to sometimes nearly knock me down.

Not so on Elafonisi.

The shin-deep water is wonderfully warm. Feet treading on the pink hued sand are happy. Sure, the tide does its ebb and flow thing, but the trek to the island is short and welcoming.

Elafonisi is a tiny islet on the Greek island of Crete. Clearly it is one of Crete’s best beaches and that’s on an island with a boatload of them ranging from soft, embracing sands to devilish stones to dramatic rocky cliffs plunging down into the deep blue sea.

In western Crete, the little islet off the island is a popular place during the swarm of the tourist season, but in early May not as much. The place had its fair share of beach goers, but it was still too early for lifeguards and food stalls.

As a visitor, it was downright wonderful to walk a beach—and its nature trail—where the mountains meet the sea. There was no charge for either parking or admission, and though the restrooms weren’t opened yet, there were little enclosures to change into swimming gear.

Known for its pinkish white sands, Elafonisi was a stop on a 70-mile loop drive along the northwest side of the island from out base camp of Kissamos that included both a coastal road and an inland road over the mountains, both winding and hair raising.

The roads also had plenty of sheep and goats to watch us pass.

Driving in Greece is an adventure unto itself. Speed limits appear to be suggestions. The shoulder or breakdown lane is also a travel lane. Drivers expect you to pull over so they can pass you. The narrow rural roads are two-way, but often aren’t wide enough for two subcompacts to get through the same place at the same time. Motorcycles and scooters rule, often using the dotted white lines as their own travel lanes.

Oh, they’ll pass you on the right.

No wonder the welcoming Crete residents have a bottle of a homemade distilled spirit called raki always at the ready. They’re probably relieved you made it, and want to give you courage for the drive home.

My wife Jan and I stumbled upon the nature trail circuit by accident during our sandy stroll along the sands.

Though Europe’s E4 hiking path was nearby (the roughly 6,200-mile trail between Spain and Greece winds through France, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, Hungary, Bulgaria, and Cyprus), we saw a small unoccupied kiosk with some flora and fauna photos affixed to it, as well as arrows.

According to a sign we saw, the island hosts a great number of rare or protected endemic species of the Greek flora and fauna, as well an an important and especially sensitive ecosystem of sand dune species.

Another sign told us the pinkish sand “is one of the specificities which compose the natural miracle called Lafonisi. If each visitor claims even the minimum amount of sand in their pockets, then they are each of them to blame for the disbain (sic) of this uniqueness.”

It continued, “The taking of sand is considered infringement according to the 1650/86 law and violators will be prosecuted.”

We didn’t steal any sand, though some grains may have made a jailbreak in our footwear.

We did walk the lovely seaside nature trail among the sand dunes, curious shorebirds, and waving grasses. We played among the rocks and watched the Libyan Sea crash and go. We stuck to the primitive wooden planks and walked by the colorful wildflowers of spring, not in hiking boots, but in sneakers and water shoes.

We marveled at the blue waters and the stunning mountains. In the sparse shade, we had a picnic of feta cheese, tomatoes, olives, and bread from a bakery.

We just walked, not knowing or caring for how long or how far.

On Elafonisi, it didn’t seem to matter.

Images by Marty Basch