Day 8: Santorini (otherwise known as Paradise)
We awoke this morning to see our ship surrounded by towering cliffs whose tops were shrouded in fog. Welcome to Santorini, the fabled island that used to contain a giant volcano that blew apart 3,600 years ago. Imagine that the water the ship was floating in was in the middle of that volcano, and that after the top blew off, all that was left was 2/3 of the sides. Place tiny little towns atop those sides, and you begin to get an idea of what we were witnessing.
Since Santorini has no pier big enough for our ship, we had to tender in. It’s always fun to see your ship while floating right next to it, the sides looming above you. A few short minutes later and we debarked at a pier hundreds of feet below the town of Fira (pronounced fee-rah).
There are several methods for getting up to the town: walk up, ride a donkey, or take the tramway. Walking up 500 stairs covered with donkey piss didn’t sound appealing, sitting astride some poor animal even less so, so we did the modern thing and took the tramway. It was fast and oh-so-steep! And within a minute we were located in the middle of Fira, which at first glance appeared to be nothing but shops selling souvenirs, restaurants, and moped rental dealers.
Before leaving Seattle, we had arranged to rent a car from Drossos car rental. Alas, the car didn’t show up at the appointed spot until an hour after we asked for it. It was a blue Peugeot 307, and the smoky smell reminded me (Steve) of the inside of my grandfather’s 60’s era Plymouth! But the fog was clearing and we were in for a terrific experience exploring the island.
Despite the horror stories we’d read online, driving in Santorini was quite easy. Only in the towns was it treacherous (we almost had a side-mirror taken off, and most cars on the island are dented and scratched!). The four of us decided to head to the lighthouse at the westernmost point of the island, and then pass back through Fira to head to the town at the other end (Oia, pronounced ee-yah).
The driving was fun: up and down hills and around curves. The part of the island away from the caldera is mostly flat land. There’s even an airport here, and lots of terraced farms. But it’s late in the season (which starts in early June), and many places were closed or boarded up.
We initially headed for the archeological excavations at Akrotiri, but when we got there found them closed (perhaps because it was Sunday). We then decided to find the Red Beach and we were not disappointed. The color of the rocks was an intense brick red or rust, and rose slantwise from the sea. Pretty stunning! We also bought some beautiful precious stones that were strung as necklaces from a German man on the beach (hematite for Steve, lapis and amethyst for Allan, smoky quartz for Tim). The man was older and very suntanned. He said that he lived in western Nepal part of the year, and was certainly a character!
The lighthouse at Faros was perched at the end of a windy road, and the views across the caldera were amazing. Not only was our ship at anchor, but so was the Grand Princess, an even larger ship. But given the scale of the place, both looked like toy boats in a bathtub. Rick became “goatboy” as he clambered up and around the rocks in search of great photo opportunities (not hard to come by in this setting).
We saw many small lizards or geckos darting here and there amongst the brush. Plants don’t grow tall here, but low and range-y. Very dry except for that flat area where the airport is.
Our next destination was Black Beach. Or so we thought. Apparently one of the maps Allan had showed Black Beach as being on the way back from the lighthouse. Another map showed this same spot to be called Kambia. But as soon as we turned off the main road toward this spot, it was traveling on a rutted dirt road similar to something you’d find in the wild, wild West! We traveled for quite some time until we got down to the water. But there was no black beach. Only two boarded up restaurants, black shiny rocks, and a broken down ice-chest filled with garbage. Hardly a beach! We took some photos and decided to head up out of there. And that’s when the fun began. The little Peugeot struggled mightily up the steep ruts, and at one point we became stuck. While I (Steve) stayed behind the wheel, the other three got out back to push. But to no avail. And Tim was afraid that we’d puncture a tire with all the large rocks in the road.
When all seemed hopeless and despair started setting in, suddenly an angel (in the guise of man standing atop a hill) appeared out of nowhere. He pointed us toward an offshoot of the road that enabled us to climb away from this treacherous stretch of road, and after many tense minutes, we bounced up and along and back on to the main highway. I don’t think I was ever as happy to see asphalt again!
After this adventure we stopped at a super market to get some refreshments. It was odd: in the middle of sparsely-populated houses and closed restaurants was a moderately sized, well air conditioned super market. And clean as a whistle to boot! We bought some juices and chocolate, and Tim managed to get “the best olives he’s ever had” from their deli section. He also reached into the freezer case and pulled out a shrink-wrapped, frozen octopus!
Reinvigorated with liquids, we headed for the other end of the island, taking a low coastal route that passed several wineries. Santorini is known for its local varietal vinsanto, which is made from sun-dried grapes. It’s very sweet and is best used as a dessert wine. There are also capers, fava beans, and cherry tomatoes unique to this island.
When we arrived in Oia, we were struck by two things: the spectacular sites and the hordes of tour groups. I suppose the latter is caused by the former, but there was something annoying about hearing honk-y American accents in that beautiful setting. (Side note: I suppose that’s a common grouse of mine on this trip. Because we’re not staying anywhere overnight except at the beginning and the end, we’re constantly being yanked back into American culture on the ship. It’s a negative aspect from my point of view and doesn’t allow us to really dig into the local culture).
Anyway, Oia is everything you imagine when you picture the Greek islands: the blue of the sky and sea, the white stucco of the buildings cascading down the hill, the ringing of church bells, the old women in black. Simply breathtaking!
The shopping was terrific (jewelry, pottery, and artwork) and we walked in and out of many stores. We also walked around plenty of sleeping dogs, including one happily in the sun atop a roof!
At the restaurant where we had lunch (La Skala), we sat beneath white umbrellas as we gazed across the town’s roofs and toward the waters shimmering below. Lunch consisted of marvelous cheese-and-potato croquettes and soutzoukakias (cumin flavored meatballs served in a tomato sauce over rice). There were several cats that meandered through the restaurant, and we decided that in this town dogs and cats get along harmoniously.
Several hours (and hundreds of photos) later, we headed back to Fira. But this time we took the high road that went along the top of the island. This afforded us spectacular views of the terraced lowlands below.
We arrived in Fira at the appointed time, but the Drossos representative didn’t miss us until forty-five minutes later, much to my annoyance. Nevertheless, the dusty, hand-print covered car served us well and turned out to be a good idea after all despite our mis-adventure at Not Black Beach.
We joined several of the other people from our group for dinner at Zaphora, a restaurant that overlooked the caldera and a spectacular sunset over the Aegean. Alas, as soon as the sun set, the fog rolled back in and several of us froze through dinner. Allan and Rick swooned over a cute waiter, but all I could think of was “why didn’t I bring my jacket?”.
We took the cable car back down to the bottom, boarded the tender back to the ship, and bade farewell to spectacular Santorini.
Since Santorini has no pier big enough for our ship, we had to tender in. It’s always fun to see your ship while floating right next to it, the sides looming above you. A few short minutes later and we debarked at a pier hundreds of feet below the town of Fira (pronounced fee-rah).
There are several methods for getting up to the town: walk up, ride a donkey, or take the tramway. Walking up 500 stairs covered with donkey piss didn’t sound appealing, sitting astride some poor animal even less so, so we did the modern thing and took the tramway. It was fast and oh-so-steep! And within a minute we were located in the middle of Fira, which at first glance appeared to be nothing but shops selling souvenirs, restaurants, and moped rental dealers.
Before leaving Seattle, we had arranged to rent a car from Drossos car rental. Alas, the car didn’t show up at the appointed spot until an hour after we asked for it. It was a blue Peugeot 307, and the smoky smell reminded me (Steve) of the inside of my grandfather’s 60’s era Plymouth! But the fog was clearing and we were in for a terrific experience exploring the island.
Despite the horror stories we’d read online, driving in Santorini was quite easy. Only in the towns was it treacherous (we almost had a side-mirror taken off, and most cars on the island are dented and scratched!). The four of us decided to head to the lighthouse at the westernmost point of the island, and then pass back through Fira to head to the town at the other end (Oia, pronounced ee-yah).
The driving was fun: up and down hills and around curves. The part of the island away from the caldera is mostly flat land. There’s even an airport here, and lots of terraced farms. But it’s late in the season (which starts in early June), and many places were closed or boarded up.
We initially headed for the archeological excavations at Akrotiri, but when we got there found them closed (perhaps because it was Sunday). We then decided to find the Red Beach and we were not disappointed. The color of the rocks was an intense brick red or rust, and rose slantwise from the sea. Pretty stunning! We also bought some beautiful precious stones that were strung as necklaces from a German man on the beach (hematite for Steve, lapis and amethyst for Allan, smoky quartz for Tim). The man was older and very suntanned. He said that he lived in western Nepal part of the year, and was certainly a character!
The lighthouse at Faros was perched at the end of a windy road, and the views across the caldera were amazing. Not only was our ship at anchor, but so was the Grand Princess, an even larger ship. But given the scale of the place, both looked like toy boats in a bathtub. Rick became “goatboy” as he clambered up and around the rocks in search of great photo opportunities (not hard to come by in this setting).
We saw many small lizards or geckos darting here and there amongst the brush. Plants don’t grow tall here, but low and range-y. Very dry except for that flat area where the airport is.
Our next destination was Black Beach. Or so we thought. Apparently one of the maps Allan had showed Black Beach as being on the way back from the lighthouse. Another map showed this same spot to be called Kambia. But as soon as we turned off the main road toward this spot, it was traveling on a rutted dirt road similar to something you’d find in the wild, wild West! We traveled for quite some time until we got down to the water. But there was no black beach. Only two boarded up restaurants, black shiny rocks, and a broken down ice-chest filled with garbage. Hardly a beach! We took some photos and decided to head up out of there. And that’s when the fun began. The little Peugeot struggled mightily up the steep ruts, and at one point we became stuck. While I (Steve) stayed behind the wheel, the other three got out back to push. But to no avail. And Tim was afraid that we’d puncture a tire with all the large rocks in the road.
When all seemed hopeless and despair started setting in, suddenly an angel (in the guise of man standing atop a hill) appeared out of nowhere. He pointed us toward an offshoot of the road that enabled us to climb away from this treacherous stretch of road, and after many tense minutes, we bounced up and along and back on to the main highway. I don’t think I was ever as happy to see asphalt again!
After this adventure we stopped at a super market to get some refreshments. It was odd: in the middle of sparsely-populated houses and closed restaurants was a moderately sized, well air conditioned super market. And clean as a whistle to boot! We bought some juices and chocolate, and Tim managed to get “the best olives he’s ever had” from their deli section. He also reached into the freezer case and pulled out a shrink-wrapped, frozen octopus!
Reinvigorated with liquids, we headed for the other end of the island, taking a low coastal route that passed several wineries. Santorini is known for its local varietal vinsanto, which is made from sun-dried grapes. It’s very sweet and is best used as a dessert wine. There are also capers, fava beans, and cherry tomatoes unique to this island.
When we arrived in Oia, we were struck by two things: the spectacular sites and the hordes of tour groups. I suppose the latter is caused by the former, but there was something annoying about hearing honk-y American accents in that beautiful setting. (Side note: I suppose that’s a common grouse of mine on this trip. Because we’re not staying anywhere overnight except at the beginning and the end, we’re constantly being yanked back into American culture on the ship. It’s a negative aspect from my point of view and doesn’t allow us to really dig into the local culture).
Anyway, Oia is everything you imagine when you picture the Greek islands: the blue of the sky and sea, the white stucco of the buildings cascading down the hill, the ringing of church bells, the old women in black. Simply breathtaking!
The shopping was terrific (jewelry, pottery, and artwork) and we walked in and out of many stores. We also walked around plenty of sleeping dogs, including one happily in the sun atop a roof!
At the restaurant where we had lunch (La Skala), we sat beneath white umbrellas as we gazed across the town’s roofs and toward the waters shimmering below. Lunch consisted of marvelous cheese-and-potato croquettes and soutzoukakias (cumin flavored meatballs served in a tomato sauce over rice). There were several cats that meandered through the restaurant, and we decided that in this town dogs and cats get along harmoniously.
Several hours (and hundreds of photos) later, we headed back to Fira. But this time we took the high road that went along the top of the island. This afforded us spectacular views of the terraced lowlands below.
We arrived in Fira at the appointed time, but the Drossos representative didn’t miss us until forty-five minutes later, much to my annoyance. Nevertheless, the dusty, hand-print covered car served us well and turned out to be a good idea after all despite our mis-adventure at Not Black Beach.
We joined several of the other people from our group for dinner at Zaphora, a restaurant that overlooked the caldera and a spectacular sunset over the Aegean. Alas, as soon as the sun set, the fog rolled back in and several of us froze through dinner. Allan and Rick swooned over a cute waiter, but all I could think of was “why didn’t I bring my jacket?”.
We took the cable car back down to the bottom, boarded the tender back to the ship, and bade farewell to spectacular Santorini.
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