By Hedwig Wiebes
Giovanna Giacomuzzi is the driving force behind Oi Gynekes tis Kritis, otherwise known on Facebook as ‘International Women of Hania/Crete’, a growing community that brings together women from all over the world. From her Dikastiria apartment, overlooking the city and the sea, she speaks about what she does, her personal life, and life in Hania with the same natural drive that runs through everything she creates and shares.
Giovanna opens the front door of her apartment near Dikastiria with unmistakable enthusiasm. Anyone who knows her will immediately recognize the contagious energy. It could hardly be otherwise for someone so remarkably active, a driving force within the international community in Hania and beyond. Around her wrist, she wears a Martaki bracelet -a traditional Greek red-and-white braided thread worn from the first of March, said to protect against the suddenly bright spring sun. On the coffee table in the neat, minimalist living room sits a large plate of chocolate biscuits.
Almost immediately she leads the way to the guest room, where there’s the most beautiful view stretching out over the entire city and the sea beyond. Hardly a day goes by without her admiring the sunsets from there, she will later say. No two evenings are ever the same.
We know you are Italian, but where are you originally from?
“I’m from Venice, truly from the historic centre. Both my parents are Venetian, and there were even three Doges in my family.” She lets out a soft laugh. “So, the Doge was the head of the Venetian Republic -not a king, but something closer to a prime minister, elected from aristocratic families. What made it unique was that governance was tied to personal responsibility. The Doge used his own family’s wealth for the public good; not public money, it was his own.”
“People don’t always realize how deeply Venice and Crete are connected. For more than four centuries Crete was part of the Venetian Republic. It was a strategic hub in the Mediterranean, essential for trade routes towards the East. And Venetian influence is still visible everywhere: in the architecture of Hania’s old harbour, in the names, in the details. A lot was built during that time. Even the cultural exchange went both ways: there are Venetian words in Greek, and Greek words in Venetian dialect. For instance, karekla in Greek, for chair, is karega in Venetian, while in standard Italian it’s sedia. It’s all intertwined.”
“Of course, it was still an occupation. Land was taken, and power was not equally distributed. But it was relatively stable. And importantly, the Venetians did not impose their religion, Catholicism and Orthodoxy coexisted.” She pauses for a moment, then continues. “When I say that living here feels like destiny, I really mean it. We even have family documents proving that some of my ancestors lived in Crete.”
How did you end up in Crete?
“I left Venice when I was nineteen. I went to study in London, and after that I built my career in Brussels -I stayed there for fifteen years. At some point I went to Ireland for a while, working as a lawyer. It was a very intense life. Everything revolved around work: long days, constant travel, even meetings in the weekends. I was always ‘on’.”
“At some point, someone told my parents about a place in Crete, Kissamos. Quiet, simple. I remember thinking: maybe that’s what I need. A real break. So, we booked a long holiday. It could have been anywhere, honestly -Spain, Portugal, the Canary Islands. But it was Crete.”
“When we went out for dinner on the first day, we ended up in the restaurant of the man who was to become my husband. That’s where I met him. We got together and for the next seven years, we lived between two worlds. I stayed in Brussels, my career was going well, I was working as a lawyer for the European Union in the pharmaceutical sector, and I wasn’t ready to give that up. He would come to Brussels during the winter months, when the tourist season in Crete ended and where he would have another job, and I would come here whenever I could.”
“It worked, but some point we knew we wanted more than that. When we decided to start a family, the choice became clear. I worked right up until my maternity leave and then I moved here, eight months pregnant. That’s exactly ten years ago.” With a smile, she adds: “I am poorer now, but happier. I traded my career as a lawyer for a part-time role as a legal adviser, working remotely. But I now wake up to blue skies. In Brussels, for fifteen years, it felt like it was always grey.”
“Because we had the winters off, I travelled a lot in those early years, also because my daughter wasn’t in school yet and we had that freedom. At the same time, I started teaching Italian in Kissamos, which helped me find my place there: I improved my Greek, got to know people, and built a small life of my own. It was a beautiful time. But when Stella turned five, things changed. We had to think about school, stability, and the kind of life we wanted for her. And I remember saying to my husband: it’s either Venice or Hania. I couldn’t see myself living in the village all year round in the long term.”
“I’ve always been a city person,” she continues. “And Hania, even though it’s small, still gives me that feeling: it’s a city, but also like a big town, with life around you. Kissamos was different. I still love the warmth, the closeness. When my daughter was born, I would walk through the village and people would stop me: ‘You’re the Italian, right? We have a package for you.’ There are no real addresses, which felt very intimate. But after a while, I realised I needed more. Especially as your child grows, you start thinking about schools, stability, infrastructure. It’s beautiful, but it comes with limitations.”
“What I really missed was the international environment I had always been part of. In Hania, you meet people from everywhere -South America, China, Japan. That diversity is enriching. You exchange ideas, perspectives, ways of living, and it’s something I also wanted for my daughter. In the village, no matter how well you integrate -and I did- you are still seen as the outsider. In Hania, that’s different. When my daughter speaks Italian, it’s appreciated as something valuable.”
How was it for you to move to Hania? And did it meet your expectations?
“In many ways, moving to Hania, and Crete in general, felt even better than I had expected. What struck me most was the quality of life, something you don’t fully understand until you experience it. The air, the food… it sounds simple, but it changes everything. I’ve always had a sensitive stomach, intolerances, but since living here, I’ve had no issues at all. I remember arriving super pregnant, taking all these supplements, and my gynecologist here told me: throw everything away. Eat well, walk by the sea… you’ll be fine. And I was!”
“It’s something I see with many people. They come here and their health improves. The climate, the lifestyle, being outside, moving, swimming even in winte. It affects your body, but also your mind. There is space to breathe here. Coming from Brussels, where I felt cut off from nature, it was like returning to something essential.”
“At the same time, that beauty is not something I take for granted. I sometimes feel people who grew up here don’t always see it anymore. I hate it when I see trash in nature, and things abandoned where they shouldn’t be. This place is so special, but it does need care and attention.”
What do you miss most when you’re away?
“The sunsets. Every single one is different. Pink, orange, deep red, sometimes even purple. Even when I’m at home doing homework with my daughter, I stop, and we go look. Just for a moment. To take it in.”
“I love Hania. It feels like a city, but also like a town. You can’t really be anonymous, and I like that. There is always something going on, especially for families. In Brussels, children are almost an afterthought. Here, you walk into a restaurant, and they immediately bring a kareklaki -a high chair- and something to keep them busy. There is an inherent respect for families. It’s a beautiful place to raise a child.”
“What surprised me most is the warmth of people. In Brussels, if someone fainted in the metro, people would just walk past. Here, it’s different. People help. There is still a sense of neighbourhood, of community. You feel it in small things. You leave your phone somewhere; someone brings it back. You cross the road with your child, cars stop. People look out for each other.”
“And I also love how elderly people are treated here, and the way they spend time together talking, having coffee, swimming, staying active. There is a lot of connection happening here. That’s what makes a place feel alive.”
Is there anything about life in Hania that you find more difficult, or less enjoyable than you expected?
“It’s beautiful here, I love it, but things are changing. And what worries me is that I’ve seen this before.” She pauses for a moment. “What is happening now in Hania reminds me very much of what happened in Venice in the eighties and nineties. Over-tourism. The cruise ships, the constant flow of people. You see it everywhere: the traffic, the crowds, the city becoming more and more congested.”
“Prices are going up fast. And it’s the same with housing: everything is turned into Airbnbs and local families are struggling to find a place to live. Or you’re rushing to the doctor, and you can’t move because the streets are full. You can’t find parking. It becomes more and more difficult to go about your daily things. I’ve seen this pattern before, and I know where it can lead. That’s why I’m scared. In a way, the city stops belonging to the people who live there.”
“It really feels like tourism is being prioritised over the quality of life for residents. And of course, tourism brings jobs, it brings income -I understand that. But there is a cost. And that cost is already visible. Look, for four years, we held our Oi Gynekes tis Kritis gatherings at a place in Chalepa called Oxo Nou. It was a beautiful, multi-functional communal space -a bar, a small beach, a place for classes, for exhibitions- my daughter even went there for sports classes. Very affordable, open, welcoming. And then it closed. It’s becoming another hotel.”
“Since then, finding an alternative place has become increasingly difficult. We meet for free, that’s the whole idea. What is really lacking in Hania are places where people can simply meet, gather, build something together. You want a community, but you also need the physical space for it. And those spaces are disappearing.”
“And then there is the environment. You see these massive developments, huge hotel projects along the coast. It’s not sustainable. The pollution, the pressure on the land, on the water… it will have consequences. We shouldn’t want that happening. Because this place is so beautiful, but it’s also fragile.”
Is there something that stands out as truly better here compared to anywhere else you’ve been?
“If there is one thing that is remarkably better here, is the feeling of safety. Coming from Brussels -and even from Venice- you are used to always being alert. You watch your bag, you hold it close; I remember in Brussels I would have my bag on my lap, always. And when I first came here, I was doing the same, resulting in my in-laws totally laughing at me. Here, you leave your bag somewhere and you come back the next day and it’s still there. People are honest in that way, and generally it’s very safe.”
“That is something I really value, especially as a mother. I see young girls walking around freely, without being harassed. That’s precious. In a world that is becoming more and more unsafe, this is something you cannot take for granted. I hope that in a few years my daughter can go to school by herself. That kind of freedom… it’s rare now. Even in Venice, it’s not like it used to be, my friends are telling me.”
“At the same time, there is still a very traditional, patriarchal culture here. You feel it in small, everyday things. In local offices, I’m still referred to as someone’s wife or someone’s daughter. Even when I bought this apartment -I was the one paying- people would speak to my husband, not to me. As if I wasn’t there.”
“I see it with the children in the family as well. The boys are served first, without anyone even thinking about it. It’s automatic, deeply ingrained. And then you have your daughter looking at you, absorbing all of that. That’s how these patterns continue.”
‘For all the wonderful women who live in the area of Hania’, reads the description of the International Women in Hania/Crete Facebook group, also known as Oi Gynekes tis Kritis.
During the pandemic, Giovanna found herself more rooted in Crete than before. Travel came to a halt: flights were cancelled, routes became complicated, and going back and forth to friends and family in Venice was no longer an option. At the same time, her social life in Kissamos felt particularly small, and the need for connection grew. So she created a Facebook group. It was simple, she just wanted to see whether there were other women in the region of Hania looking for a friendly chat.
Not long after, two of the women, Ania Draus and Rebecca Pelayo, suggested taking the idea beyond the online space. In the winter of 2022, they started organising small, intentional coffee mornings in Hania, gatherings for connection and shared experience, with just a few women at a time. From there, things grew slowly and organically, forming the foundation for what would become Oi Gynekes tis Kritis.
In 2023, they invited Giovanna to co-create, and when Ania and Rebecca later left Crete with their families, remaining connected online, Giovanna -already deeply involved- took over the organisation of the in-person gatherings, continuing to build the community together with the rest of the team. Today, the group has over three thousand members. The monthly gatherings have grown beyond simple meetups: each time, a different speaker from within the community shares insights on a wide range of topics -from science and technology to art and personal development. What began as a safe space to connect among women, has become a place to exchange knowledge, experiences and skills, while of course having fun.
You clearly put a lot of time and
energy into this… What has made you keep going and grow it into what it now is?
“There was this awareness that I couldn’t ignore anymore. I saw the dynamics around me -how women are often still positioned, how easily we are divided- and I felt a strong need to respond to that. Not just observe it but do something with it. I really believe in solidarity among women. Because if we don’t support each other, nothing changes. Men, in a way, already have their system. It’s built by them, for them, they back each other naturally. But women… we’ve been taught to doubt, to compare, to compete. And that keeps us small. Now, we are more than five hundred women who are regularly meeting between Hania and Rethymno.”
“What makes it special is not the numbers, but the intention. It doesn’t matter who you are -your background, your nationality, whether you stay for six months or six years. You come, and you are welcome. That creates something powerful, especially for people who move abroad and feel isolated or unseen. I remember going to those first meetings and feeling almost relieved, then realising: everyone feels the same. You find your people, someone nearby, someone you can call, someone who understands your life here. And over time, it became more than social. I’ve seen friendships grow, collaborations start, women supporting each other -in business and in their personal lives, sometimes in very real, very deep ways.”
“A beloved person in the community has been diagnosed with cancer. What happened next was overwhelming in the most beautiful way. A crowdfunding was organised, and women showed up in every possible way -contributing money, but also cooking meals, helping with appointments, offering care and support. Thanks to that collective effort, she is now able to afford the surgery she urgently needed, something that would have been out of reach otherwise.”
“That’s when you realise this is not just some social group. This is real support. This is what it means to belong somewhere. And when you’re going through something difficult, that kind of support is everything. That’s why I keep doing it, together with an amazing team of women like Aimee, Valassia, Marta and Clio who help organise everything. It takes time, it’s all voluntary, but it gives back so much more. Because in the end, what we all need is quite simple: to feel seen, to feel supported, to know that we’re not alone. And to just have fun together, of course.”
“And alongside that, I also started a small Italian group. That came from the same idea, just bringing people together, even if at first, they think they don’t want it. We now meet once a month, people of all ages -from their twenties to their seventies- Italians and non-Italians who want to speak Italian. And again, you see the same thing: connection, familiarity, warmth. Even if people come from completely different lives, there is something shared. And you feel it immediately.”
Earlier you spoke about your Venetian family history, with several Doges, and that idea of responsibility that comes with privilege (Noblesse oblige). Do you recognise something of that in the way you organise things here?
“I think so, yes. I’m not here to promote a business or to get something out of it. I have my work from abroad, I’m settled, I can take care of my child. There is freedom and privilege in that. And when you have that, it feels natural to give something back.”
“It’s not just me, either; it’s a beautiful community effort. You see it in the group all the time. One woman offers a yoga class, someone else shares their expertise the week after. People give their time and energy without expecting anything in return. There’s no hidden agenda -it’s just sharing.”
“And maybe it is also a bit in my background,” she adds, a hint of amusement in her expression. “This idea that if you’re in a position where things are okay, you don’t just keep it for yourself. You do something with it. Not in a big, grand way, just in everyday life. And in a way, the local people here already do this very naturally. That sense of giving, of showing up for each other -they really set the example.”
Name: Giovanna Giacomuzzi
Age: 45
Place of birth: Venice, Italy
Occupation: Legal consultant, former lawyer
Lives with: Daughter Stella (10)
In Crete since: March 2016
Known for: Bringing international women together
“The monthly gatherings have grown
beyond simple meetups: each time,
a different speaker from within the
community shares insights on a wide
range of topics -from science and technology to art and personal development.”
