“Travel” as a search word on any social site will likely produce images of white concrete houses stacked on top of each other like a frosted village cake. The blue of the roofs are rival only to the vivid sea and sky behind them. This is Santorini, a tiny half-moon shaped island just off the mainland of Greece. In this dream-come-true season of my life, I feel so blessed to have spent a weekend at this bucket list destination.
Long ago, a volcanic eruption in the Aegean Sea birthed a land mass of mountains and beaches. Only about 25 square miles, the small island’s big entry to the world is evident in the rocky terrain and black and red sanded beaches. In relation to its breathtaking beauty, Santorini survives mainly off of tourism. The popular towns of Thera and Oia are full of souvenir shops and restaurants with “American menus” to please the throngs of people who visit each summer. I was there in March, several months before peak season, and this made my visit both easier and more complicated.
Our Airbnb was in Perissa, near the bottom of the island, with the popular and picturesque town of Oia on the opposite end. We arrived in the evening and, after an overpriced taxi from the airport, got settled in as the sun was setting and a storm was brewing. On the search for dinner, we trekked down the gravel road, past barking dogs and a donkey, to reach the main stretch through town which was called, honestly, Unnamed Road. Many shops still closed for the winter, the spooky scene was like a ghost town. Finally we found Hellas, a spacious bar and restaurant whose only occupants were weather-beaten men entertaining themselves with cigarettes, Mythos beer, and poker. The ambience wasn’t impressive, but, oh man, the food certainly was. The last hour I had spent fearing for my life (not really, at least, not realistically) was worth it. We were here, in Greece. That night, in a small corner of the world, I happily munched on gyro meat, tomatoes, fries, and the best pita bread I had ever tasted.
The next day, my pessimism had returned. What was there to do on a sleeping island in the middle of nowhere? It was too cold to swim and we were too far from any tourist attractions. My mood improved when we found a bakery. With stomachs and hands full of luxurious pastries, we waited at the bus stop. And waited. And waited. This was Europe on winter break, timetables had no authority there. Finally it came and we took the winding, hairpin roads up the island to Oia.
This was it. This was my dream destination. Every few steps, every new turn and angle was picture-worthy. At lunch, as I ate my Greek salad overlooking the bluest of waters, I was so content to watch the kids play at the school across the street, the stray cats in the corners of the windows, and the men lead donkeys with colorful harnesses up and down the steps. The houses, shops, and hotels were layered on the mountain, connected by stairs, in a winding vertical maze. I would have loved to explore if that hadn’t meant wandering into someone’s home.
Because we were over-ambitious, crazy, or simply bored, we decided to hike back to the main bus stop at Thera. A 10km trek, about six miles, up and down the mountainous landscape, it was both a miserable and transcendental experience. The path was rocky and the hills were endless, but the waters and landscape on display before us were unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The weather was a perfect combination of sunshine and breeze. My muscles were exhausted but my body fueled by joy. Once in Thera, we found another bakery and bought snacks. Maybe it was my hunger from hiking half an island, but I swear that baklava was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
This trip was my favorite, so far. That weekend I stood on mountaintops, put my feet in the playful waves of black sand beaches, and ate life-changing food. Greece was incredible and it pushed me to try things I would never have before, including a treatment at Dr. Fish Spa where tiny little fish licked the dead skin from my feet in a ticklish frenzy. What an adventure! I cannot wait to visit Greece again and, believe me, I will do whatever I can to go back.
Sweet Scout 