A STEWARD WOKE US UP
at seven by banging on the door.
At 7:30 the boat was due to dock
and he wanted us out of the
cabin at once so they could make
it up for the passengers who
would be boarding as soon as we
got off. I had managed to throw
on some clothes, but Joy was
stark naked when he burst in the
door. I will never forget both
of their gasps when they saw
each other!
It was
still dark when we disembarked
and boarded a waiting bus that
took us up a winding road to the
main town of Fira on top of a
high cliff, famous for its white
buildings.
Stepping off the bus we were
approached by a man asking if we
needed a room, and with little
else to do at such an early
hour, we decided to take a look.
It was chilly and windy, and as
he led us along the narrow
cliffside steps to the room we
were blown back against the
stone wall several times.
The
accommodations, however,
couldn’t have been better! It
was one of those picturesque
Greek island hotels built into
the side of the cliff, with a
panoramic view of the brilliant
blue Aegean Sea facing the
sunset. This place, for which we
were only being charged 12,000
drachmas ($40), would be
unaffordable and unavailable in
the high season.
After
settling in and while Joy
showered (I hadn’t taken a
shower since we left Nof
Ginosar, and was too pooped to
take one now) I sat out on the
vast terrace overlooking the
blue Mediterranean and listened
to the perfect silence. The wind
had died down for a while, at
least in that one spot. The
weather seemed to be changing
every five minutes—alternating
rain and sun, hot and cold all
day long. I shot reams of
videotape, but alas did not take
any pictures with my regular
camera and neither did Joy.
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FACTS ABOUT
SANTORINI
Santorini is 72 square
km, has 13 villages and
a permanent population
of 10,000. It is very
windy and earthquakes
are common. Fira, the
capital, with 2,500
inhabitants, is built 30
meters above the sea. It
is famous for its views,
sunsets and night life.
Probably the world’s
largest volcanic
eruption occurred there
in 1647BC, leaving a
hole in the middle of
what was once a circular
island and buried it in
pumice stone and
volcanic ash.
For many years the
economy of the island
was based on the export
of pumice stone—more
than two million tons
annually—until the
government forbade
further exportation
because of the damage it
was doing to the island.
Visitors can see remains
of the three quarries,
the factory and a large
chunk of the hill
missing. Grape vines
grow everywhere, and in
August, the islanders
pick the grapes by hand
and transfer them by
donkeys to their
wineries.
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Looking for a breakfast place,
we found the town devoid of
tourists and most of the shops
closed. I dropped off my
blood-splattered jeans at a
laundry and we sat out on the
town square with a cup of coffee
trying to figure out what to do.
There
wasn’t much to do here. We
started to take a walk but Joy’s
foot began to hurt again and her
legs got tired, so she went back
to the room and crawled into
bed. I walked around the town by
myself revisiting places from my
1985 trip and saw that not much
had changed.
I ate
an omelet at a taverna and read
a little. When Joy woke up we
went out for another meal of
moussaka and spaghetti, after
which we found a cozy taverna
where we ordered a café frappé.
We tried to read our books but
the thick cigarette smoke drove
us out. Instead we returned to
our room and watched the
spectacular sunset, after which
we decided to call it a very
early night, both of us being
thoroughly zonked.
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This
terrace was right outside our
room
Some pictures I took of Fira on
my
1985 trip. Nothing had changed!
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