Santorini

Give Tom a tall Mythos at lunch and he drives more like a Greek. Yet somehow we lose each game of chicken on the road. Every game. We wind around a blind corner in our little Peugeot Cabrio convertible, and a Greek car heads straight towards us, in the middle of the road, until we veer to the shoulder, cowering. I finally figured out what gives us away--the large Vezios Rental Car decal that is affixed to the top of the passenger side of our windshield. I wonder what would happen if we called their bluff and didn't give way. I imagine we'd still lose.

The palette here is neutrals--gray, tan, golden brown, and stark white--contrasted with the brilliant Santorini blue, which I can only describe as close to royal with a drop of periwinkle thrown in. When the sun is shining, the blue of the Aegean below almost matches the blue on the houses; there are also splotches of aqua and turquoise in the shallower waters. Green is but a trim color, usually of the hues of sage or succulents, contrasted with the occasional darker green of the grapevines at the wineries. All is punctuated by the bright flowers in pots and hung by doorways, or once in a while by a tall, flowering hibiscus.

In Oia, we are staying in one of the cave houses at Ifestio Villas. The bedroom in our villa is but a mere cubbyhole--a bed nestled between three walls, and a small set of shelves alongside an area to hang a few clothes. But we have a sizable living room/kitchenette/eating area, a decent bath, and a small balcony with a stupendous view.

Villa Paride

These houses drip down the hillside, hanging to the cliffs above the water. Walls separate different properties, and long sets of uneven stairs wind downwards. Everywhere, there is the movement of cats, jumping up and down walls or onto roofs. Hard to tell how many have a home at night. Dogs trot up and down the main marble walkway in the town above. They always seem to be on a mission. Seemingly, none of them are spayed or neutered, but many wear collars.

 Oia

Each time we walk from our villa to the pedestrian walkway above, we climb 81 steps. The first night we were here, we walked westward to the small port for dinner. To reach Sunset Taverna, we descended 239 steps, each separated by one to four steep paces. A herd of mules huddled near the bottom, waiting to haul tourists back up the steps after dinner. Unfortunately, the mules leave their calling cards on the stones, adding to the challenge of an ascent after dark. Early-morning stair climbs for exercise become obstacle courses.

The main walkway in Oia, in the early morning

Friday's weather was very windy and rainy, so we decided to explore Fira, the largest town on the island. We were fascinated by the Museum of Prehistoric Thira and enjoyed a casual lunch at Lucky's Souvlaki, a little hole-in-the-wall frequented by locals, but after a few hours, I had seen one too many beer-bellied Americans wearing a Disneyworld t-shirt. Cruise ship passengers inundate the narrow cobbled streets, making the paths difficult to negotiate, especially during a thunderstorm. Shortly thereafter, we escaped back to Oia.

Early morning is very peaceful here and we already feel ownership in this town, especially when the first group of tourists with cruise line stickers on their chests arrive. To our dismay, we found that the cruise lines also bus their people to Oia, the first load arriving around 8:15 a.m. It's easy to see why so many people want to come here; the setting is stunning.

View out to the balcony of our villa

The sun is back, with a vengeance, so now we explore the island beaches, both secluded and "organized." 

Just had to throw in the shot below, taken at the Athens airport on our way here.

Outfit of the day--ventilated Lycra