A guy picked us up at the airport and drove us to the little town where we're staying, Oia.
Santorini is an island, the edge of what was once a huge volcano that blew its top. Read the info in the link above---interesting stuff.
All the houses are built into the side of the cliffs, so we're not staying in a hotel per se, but in what amounts to one of several houses our host owns. The guy is Zorba the Greek----silver hair, shirt always open to show his chest, deeply tanned. He speaks good English and is an accomodating host and is full of advice when you ask him questions:
"Is it best to rent a car from one of the places on the square?"
"No, they are Mafia! The cost is too high from them." And he whips out a brochure for another place, probably owned by him or his cousin.
"What restaurant do you recommend?" He looks at the list of restaurants on our city map and with a pen puts a checkmark by the ones he likes. "Someone in my family owns this one,"he says, "but I cannot recommend it because the food is not the best. You try these!"
And, like every Greek millionaire, he complains about his overhead and how the government is looking over his shoulder all the time, regulating his various businesses and charging too much tax, which the Greeks are notorious in avoiding in any case. But a charming guy nevertheless.
A view of the town of Oia, on the island of Santorini.
A good place to develop your leg muscles.
You hear every language here, mostly English and Italian. And Greek of course, but I think they're in the minority as tourists.
There are several beaches around the island but today we walked to the closest one, about 1.5 kilometers away. It's a downhill walk, which made us concerned about the walk back---all uphill. You can rent scooters and quads here as well as cars, and there are a lot of these things zipping around. Though Europe requires cyclists to wear helmets, almost nobody here does. And gasoline will cost you about $10 a gallon.
The beach where we swam. The water was a bit rough but warm.
It was a rocky beach but they were all smooth stones, not uncomfortable to walk on or lay on.
When the waves came in, you could actually hear the stones in the water roll a few inches as the waves receeded.
When the waves came in, you could actually hear the stones in the water roll a few inches as the waves receeded.
We stayed several hours and talked for a while with a German guy who comes here every year (his brother owns a house here.) The walk back was long and steep but not as bad as we thought it would be, and by then the sun was lighting things differently so I got some decent photos when we arrived back at our house.
Note the steep-itude and distance to the water.
The view from our terrance in the afternoon.
I find it impossible to describe just how beautiful this place is. It's overwhelming, really---living on a cliff overlooking the water-filled crater of an ancient volcano, the villages on the other side of the crater lit in the setting sun...an astounding place to spend a week of your life.
And, credit where credit is due: none of this would have been possible without the generosity of B's parents, who funded this trip. They have two daughters and never had to pay for an expensive wedding, so I guess they felt they were getting off easy by sending us on a trip like this as a wedding present. We thought they were insane to spend this much on a gift, but we're grateful they did.
Also, thanks to B who made all the arrangements, finding the perfect place to stay and a flight directly from Vienna to Santorini. She really should have been a travel agent...
