Part IV: Greek Islands, Santorini

Dropping
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Our ferry ride to Santorini was shorter and sweeter than the ride to Sifnos. For one, we had a window seat and could watch the sea go by from the comfort of our chairs. My nausea had disappeared with my greek Dramamine. My hangover almost over. Sore throat still lingered, but I would not let that bring me down.

We arrived in Santorini around 9:00 pm and again had a driver waiting for us at the port. The ride started with a series of switchbacks from the port, up the side of a cliff to the top of the island. Soon we were in Fira, and then Imerovigli. The driver dropped us off at the entrance to a long rocky walking path perched vicariously above the cliffs and the sea.

"It's not really pretty, is it? It is spectacular."

Afroessa Hotel Lobby
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A man named Mike was waiting for us and helped us along the path with our luggage. By this time it was getting dark. He showed us to the "lobby" (a small office in a dome-shaped cave), where we were met warmly by the owner, Ioanna. She took us to our room just footsteps away and showed us around. We too were in a little cave dwelling.

That night we took a short walk to a nearby restaurant and had an italian dinner. Back at the hotel we did a little exploring, getting dizzy looking over balconies and balconies below that. The pool was visible three stories below. I couldn't wait to see it in daylight.

Cubist and Confusing
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The next morning, the vistas welcomed and overwhelmed us. We were overlooking the still-active volcano on the caldera, and a blue sky that seemed to dissolve right into the blue sea. We took the recommendations of our hosts and had breakfast at a small place with huge views. Omelets, pizzas and frappe! The background music was soothing sort of new-agey synthy sounding, and a perfect backdrop for the vision before us.

A few British people were the only other guests at the cafe, and I heard one of them say, profoundly:

Waking Up to the View
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"It's not really pretty, is it? It is spectacular."

We decided we should rent a car and see the rest of the island. Picked up a Peugot, drove to Santo Wines vineyards and did some wine tasting overlooking the same vista from a different angle. Mmm, olives, bread and cheese too. On our way back to Imerovigli we stopped and did a little shopping and got me some cold medicine. Meds in Greece were effective and cheap.

That night we had reservations at a restaurant in Ia called 1800 where we could see the sun set in its full splendor. Sunsets in Santorini, it seems, are quite the event. Everyone with a rooftop goes up and takes a seat with their drink in one hand and a camera in the other (or a cigarette). We watched it sink down and fizzle away as we enjoyed our favorite Santorini wine.

Straight Down from the Balcony
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Then I had a few bites of a very fishy Mullet fish. Wouldn't recommend it.

After dinner we strolled around Ia and poked in and out of small shops. Along the way we saw these huge wooden doors down a pair of steps, with a dim light within. We could see a glimpse of huge iconic paintings lining the walls. We wandered down, and there sat an old, wiry man at a gigantic easel, painting one of these icons (the madonna and child). He had powdered pigments and fresh eggs in bowls and was mixing his temperas as he went along, and stopped to greet us as we approached. He spoke some English and was happy to answer my questions about his process--tons of gold leaf on every painting. I was curious as to whether this was the work he wanted to do, or if he was doing it for tourists, as much of his paintings were variations of the same composition; copies of his own work. He said yes, that he loved doing this, but he also had personal work that he saved for himself. Andrew told him that I was an "amazing artist" (he loves telling people that), and the man said he could tell, by the questions that I asked. I told him a bit about my "day job" doing graphic design, and the painting I do on the side, and that it's a difficult transition for me to do what I want, and to do what I'm paid for. He said (roughly):

Scenic Outcropping
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"But it is when you paint what you love that people will love it too; it may take some time, but eventually people will find it, and they will see that you love it, and they will buy it." I know, I've heard this a thousand times before, but something about hearing it from this wiry renassaince-looking man in a hole in the ground behind huge wooden doors in the village of Ia made me giddy and ecstatic.

We left him to his work, but before we left I asked if he had a business card. Of course he did not. So I scribbled my website and email address on a piece of paper for him, and he looked at it like I had three heads. I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't understand--but then, he did kind of look like he time travelled from the 1500s to be sitting at this easel. Only his cigarette gave any sense of modern day. I wanted to either hang out with him for a week or pack him up in our bags and take him home for inspiration.

Andrew at Breakfast
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I would have taken pictures in his studio but there were "no photos" signs posted all over the room. Though looking back now, if I had asked, he probably would have posed with me.

The following day we took the car and toured the southern part of the island, landing on the Red Beach and Perigolos, a black sand beach. The sands are actually eroded volcanic rock composites. Neither should be treaded without footwear; scorchingly hot. The Red Beach was crowded and pretty tight, not much room for privacy (even for the topless sunbathers). We lingered a little bit and then made our way toward the black beaches. And I am happy that we did, because I really loved Perigolos.

Preparing the Tasting Tray
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The vibe at the beach was far more laid back. Plus there was drink service. We sat and watched europeans fight over volleyball while we sipped our drinks and took quick dips in the clear blue water until it felt like dinner time. Then we headed back to the hotel.

Andrew had to return the car, so he dropped me off at our footpath and I stopped in a local market to buy some fresh goodies. Tomatoes, feta, olives, capers, peaches and wine. Back at the room we set out our feast on the little table on our balcony and got ready for the show (sunset). The view here was far superior to the one we had the night before at the restaurant. There was so much peace in the air you could taste it (and see it as the white doves flew below).

Tray of Happiness
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Ioanna, our hostess, stopped by to chat and share some wine with us. We learned about her sons who love extreme sports. We told her to send them to Winter Park and we'd show them some fun. As she spoke about how Americans are more reserved than her other guests, rarely stopping to chat with her and her family, we felt bad that we hadn't talked to her before, and that we were leaving in the morning. Santorini, like Sifnos, was a place that I could have easily spent a week, a month--and indulged in painting the land and seascapes. It was as familiar and welcoming as it was foreign to me. And the Afroessa had the perfect accomodations.

Selection of Santo Wines
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Our last dinner in Santorini was at another restaurant recommended by our hosts. I played it safe with chicken after my bad fish the night before. Andrew had a pasta dish. For dessert we returned to our favorite cafe (where we had all our breakfasts) and had some decadent chocolate molten goodness. As we returned to our hotel I tried my best to capture the beauty of the half-moon and Venus dangling over the caldera. I'm afraid I failed.

We woke at 5:30 am for our 6 am transfer to the airport. The sun was rising on the opposite side of the island and I said my goodbyes.