Everyone wants freedom - until they realise what it actually costs.
Six weeks in Crete. Beach. Laptop. Freedom. Sounds perfect, right?
That's exactly what I thought when I had to packed my rucksack and leave Reading during what turned out to be one of life's unexpected twists. When someone suggests you both need time apart to figure out what you actually want, well, sometimes you end up on a Greek island discovering exactly that.
Here's the thing about adventures: they have a way of teaching you things you never expected to learn.
The Great Escape
Life had other plans for me. What started as a practical mission - pack up the Reading flat, stuff everything into storage, quick detour to Copenhagen for some family gatherings - turned into something much bigger when the life I'd planned to return to simply disappeared.
Suddenly, there I was in Sitia, this amazing little town on Crete's eastern edge and time stretching ahead like an open road. Time to figure out what actually matters.
I set up my laptop, and thought: "Right, let's see what this remote work thing is actually about." No commute, no office distractions, no meetings I didn't schedule myself. Just me, my work, and complete control over my environment.
The first week was everything I'd imagined and more. Morning swims before client calls kicked off my day Afternoon work sessions soundtracked by the chaos of scooters in the streets.
Evening drinks on the harbour watching the sun disappearing behind the mountains sounds like something out of a film.
I felt alive, productive, completely untethered from all the noise back home. This was it. I'd cracked the code.
The Reality Check
By week three, something interesting started happening. The beach stopped being special and became.. just there. When you can go swimming anytime, you stop feeling motivated to earn it. The novelty wore off faster than I expected.
But here's the thing that caught me off guard: being completely solo as a founder is mentally exhausting in ways I hadn't anticipated. You're not just the CEO - you're also the accountant, the HR department, the business development team, and the person who has to make every single decision, no matter how small.
Every client issue lands on your desk. Every strategic choice sits in your head. Every bit of stress has nowhere else to go. There's no team to bounce ideas off, no colleagues to share the load with, no one to say "that's a terrible idea" or "actually, that's brilliant."
Don't get me wrong - the people in Sitia are incredible. Genuinely welcoming, always ready for dinner or drinks. I even bumped into an old friend from London who'd ended up there too. But that's different from having professional peers who understand the specific challenges you're dealing with.
The Productivity Paradox
Here's where it gets interesting from a business perspective. With zero distractions and complete focus, I was getting through work faster and more efficiently than ever. No office politics, no random interruptions, no commute eating into my day.
Pure productivity. Should have been winning, right?
But my creative output started getting weird. I'd always assumed that removing distractions would unlock better ideas, deeper thinking, more innovation. Instead, I found myself procrastinating more, struggling with blank page syndrome, doom-scrolling LinkedIn instead of tackling challenging projects.
Turns out, I need friction to be creative. I need deadlines with real stakes. I need colleagues interrupting me with urgent questions that spark unexpected solutions. The gentle pressure of being part of something bigger than my own scattered thoughts - that's what keeps me sharp.
Without structure and accountability, I didn't become more innovative. I became efficient at avoiding the hard problems.
The Real Insight
Around week three, it hit me: I don't actually want this kind of freedom.
This isn't about Crete being wrong or remote work being bad. This experiment taught me something crucial about how I actually function as a founder and a person. I thrive on collaboration. I need the energy that comes from building something with other people who care about the same outcomes.
The solo entrepreneur path, complete autonomy, answer to nobody, work from anywhere - that's somebody else's dream. I want structure. I want teammates. I want the productive chaos of working with smart people toward shared goals.
I want morning conversations about strategy with people who get as excited about the details as I do. I want project deadlines that matter to a whole team. I want to care about quarterly targets and sprint planning and all the machinery of building something meaningful together.
That's not settling. That's self-awareness.
What's Next
So I'm heading back to London with a completely different understanding of what I want to build. I'm looking for something with structure, real impact, and brilliant people to work alongside.
My story doesn't fit the typical narrative, but it's authentic. Six weeks on a Greek island taught me exactly what energises me and what drains me, and most important, what’s missing and what’s actually important.
That's valuable data.
I'd rather channel this clarity into building something collaborative than spend another month watching perfect sunsets alone.
The Takeaway
This wasn't a failed experiment. It was incredibly valuable market research - on myself, what’s important and who’s important. Six weeks of complete autonomy showed me that productivity and profit aren't the whole picture. Sometimes what looks perfect on paper is missing the human element that makes work actually fulfilling.
I'm grateful for every bit of it - but most importantly, I'm grateful for the clarity. Sometimes you have to go far away to figure out exactly what you want.
Next time someone sells you the dream of total freedom, ask what it cost them.