I had come to Crete intent on visiting the small island of Spinalonga off the northern coast, yet as my boat approached the docking point a sense of dread began to fill my stomach. I had been told this was a dark place, a haunting place, but the honey glow of Venetian walls and rocky cliffs bathed in sun began to ease my nerves.

My discomfort vanished quickly once we were off the boat. We were almost immediately ushered through a tunnel and onto a narrow residential street by the young Greek woman serving as our tour guide. She allowed us a moment to take in the scene. On the left stood a row of rust colored ruins partially overgrown by cacti and grape vines. The right side of the pathway was lined with the brightly colored façades of reconstructed houses. Yellow, blue, purple. The doors standing welcomingly open. I snapped a few photos, but my attention was soon reverted back as our guide began to tell us the history of the island.

Spinalonga was not an island until the late 16th century when it was separated from Crete by Venetian soldiers. Although Crete had been occupied by the Venetians since the beginning of the 13th century, they did not begin construction on their fortress at Spinalonga until 1578. The construction of the fortress, whose walls still stand tall today, covered the ruins of an ancient palace. Their fortifications were successful, as it was the last of their fortresses on Crete to hold out against the Ottomans. It fell in 1715 and the Ottoman occupation lasted until the beginning of the 20th century. After their departure the island was converted into a leper colony.

It is at this point in the history that I must interject. The island’s use as a leper colony is what leads to the common portrayal of Spinalonga as a place with a tragic history. It is thought of as a forlorn ghost town, its true stories forgotten. Because the real 20th-century Spinalonga is story of hope. Before the colony was created lepers in Greece were treated as second-hand citizens, forced to wear bells around their necks to announce their arrival, often living in caves with barely enough food and no medical treatment. At Spinalonga they were able to start new lives. They had furnished homes, food, doctors. They banded together and wrote to the Greek government about their conditions and were soon receiving welfare money. They later became the first place in Greece to have full electricity. The colony fell out of use in 1957, one of the last active leper colonies in Europe.

The tour left me frustrated with the misrepresentation of the island I had encountered before my arrival. It felt like an act of disrespect to ignore the progress the 20th century inhabitants had made with the government, and more importantly the happiness they had found there.

I finished my visit by wandering through ruins and staring into clear waters from the tops of Venetian walls. This was not a dark place, it was not a haunting place. As my boat departed from the harbor I looked back not on an ominous fortress, but on a tranquil refuge.