George asked us what we wanted we told him we knew for sure exactly what we didn't want – an apartment or anything in a town and we thought we wanted an old stone house to renovate, in a village with at least one taverna and with a View To Die For and of course within walking distance of the beach.
Having heard the same wish list many times before George just smiled, nodded and spent the next two days showing us just what we had asked for. When, on day three, we said we were now certain what we wanted was a house, or plot in at least 4000 sqm somewhere outside a village although with a reachable taverna, still with a View To Die For and of course, within walking distance of the beach, he smiled, nodded and and showed us just what we were now asking for.He was still smiling when we bid him farewell at the end of a long an tiring week, bank balance still intact.
Twelve months later we rather sheepishly showed up in his office again. (George’s office is rarely closed outside of siesta time.) Now we knew exactly what we wanted. An Apartment. In Town. Still with a View To Die For of course. In fact, we’d like to be front line to the sea, although we realised this was unlikely given the rarity of such a thing being available, not to mention the size of our budget. Still smiling, still nodding George suggested we come back tomorrow. Feeling like we had been dismissed by the headmaster, we left, thinking that perhaps we had finally pushed George too far.
Next day we were in our hire car following George on his beloved bike, his cigarette in one hand, mobile in the other, crash helmet balance precariously atop his head, chin strap flapping in the breeze. (Fearing for the safety of the man we grew to love, we finally presented him with a blue tooth earpiece, but some 12 months later it unsurprisingly remains unopened.) Two minutes later we pulled up outside a part finished apartment block. We followed a still silent George up a couple of flights of stairs and out onto a balcony. George stood back and let the view speak for itself. The sea was no more than 10 metres away and the view unobstructed Our reactions were exactly as George knew they would be and he spoke for the first time that morning. “Shall I call the developer?” he asked, trying to disguise the twinkle in his eye. For a Greek, George has a remarkably dry sense of humour.
George is a workaholic, but he doesn't think its work. It’s his life and he loves it. And you can’t help but love him for it. As for the after sales service, to George it is not a service, it is just a way of life
He and his team have enriched our experience immeasurably. Don’t take our word for it though, pop into Property on Crete just about any time and see for yourself. Chances are you’ll find him there…………. or in the taverna a few yards away having his coffee, or perhaps a couple of shops away discussing fishing or….. anyway, he’ll be somewhere close by.
Lynda & Chris Robey
September 2009