Vacation Notes 2015: September 11: Santorini, Greece

Once again, we've opted out of any of Royal Caribbean’s shore excursions. We've chosen to go on our own, again.

Today, we're pulling in to Santorini, Greece. It's a beautiful island and the birthplace of virtually every postcard from Greece.

We rose early and had breakfast on-board. The wife opted for the more formal Edelweiss dining room, while the young ’un and I opted for the buffet in the Windjammer Cafe.

We re-grouped by the pool before heading out. It was only slightly after 8:00AM when we boarded the tender for Santorini.

We were dropped of at the Port of Fira and like the thousand or so other tourists, got in the line leading to the gondola. The gondolas offer easy access to the village of Fira which sits approximately 220 meters above sea level.

But the line was long and not moving very fast. I have no idea how many people were actually waiting for the gondola, but the gondolas can purportedly transport approximately 1,200 people per hour and the line did not appear to be moving.

The wife grew impatient with our progress and opted out of the line in search of alternative methods of transportation. She found it: a fast trip on a boat straight out of Mamma Mia from the Port of Fira to another entry way to Santorini: the Port of Oia.

Why didn't they just drop us off at the Port of Oia in the first place? My first guess would be that Oia is too small to handle large numbers of tourists. My second guess would be because Oia is no closer to sea level than Fira, and Oia has no gondolas, only a staircase and a very steep road.

However, as it turned out we had to walk up neither the stairs nor the roadway. Our ferry ticket included a bus ride up to the top! As can be expected in any roadway that hugs a cliff, the ride from sea-

level to village-level featured several turns that would have challenged a Fiat on a roadway that was, in spots, barely wide enough for a Fiat, let alone a full-size bus.

At no point did I fear a horrific death should the bus slip over the edge and fall to the rocks below. My ability to live in a state of denial for what were actually only a few minutes is incredible.

A word about the water surrounding Santorini: You can see as deeply into the water as the light allows, which is usually all the way to the rocky bottom. Perhaps it is this lack of sand that keeps the water so clear. Gaze off in the distance and the water mirrors the bright blue of the sky. In fact, all of Santorini -- sky, water, and even the buildings -- is composed of the sort of exaggerated bright colors that are most commonly seen in a Crayola art project.

The bus dropped us off at a depot at the top of the hill, just outside of Oia. This is where our walking tour began.

There's not much that I can say that isn’t better with photographs. Like Mykonos, Oia is washed in white. From its position, basically hanging off the side of a cliff, and bathed in the unfiltered light of the Mediterranean sun, and further supplemented by the reflection of the clear seas, Oia is blinding. It’s a brilliance that would easily have melted any pair of waxen wings.

We enter Oia through what must be one of hundreds of similar entryways. These labyrinthine pathways, narrow with high walls, twist and turn past homes, hotels, restaurants and often just stone walls toward the center of the village. There additional shops and restaurants wait for the seasonal visitors.

As has come to be expected we shopped, making purchases of food, souvenirs, and souvenirs disguised as clothing.

Also, as we have come to expect, hunger hit us. We stopped for lunch in a rooftop cafe overlooking the city and its harbors.

Many shops and blocks and hundreds of pictures later we headed back to our return bus.

It pays to read the fine print. We had expected that the bus would simply take us back down to the same port we’d come up from, and we would board the ferry back to the port of Fira. That was not to be. Instead the bus took us from Oia to Fira. Once again the road we travelled was narrow, seemingly etched into the side of a cliff, with nothing more than a painted white line between us and a long, straight drop. It was an interesting ride – longer than we’d remembered from a previous visit to the island – and featured several locations where there was only enough width for one vehicle to pass.

As we could have guessed had we given it any thought, the bus was too wide to actually take us into Fira. It dropped us off down the hill and the driver pointed us – literally, he stepped out of the bus and pointed – in the general direction of the gondolas on the far side of the village.

So, off we trudged, a busload of displaced tourists, in the general direction of where the driver pointed. We walked winding roads and ignored signs placed to lead us through more shopping districts before our actual destination.

After hitting some dead ends we landed on a path that felt right. We could see the gondola cables overhead, so we imagined we were close. But, as it turned out we had walked too far, past what was likely the cable-car entrance. But several of the locals waived us onward, so there were no turning back. Maybe that was the gondola entrance, back a hundred meters or so, but maybe it wasn’t. What was certain was that the path we were on was leading down.

Down, down, down until the thought of retracing our steps back up to the cable car stop seemed more difficult than continuing down the mountain. But then we came upon the donkeys!

These were the infamous donkeys of the equally infamous donkey path. Daughter and I were hesitant about mounting small animals in the hot sun, but the wife got drawn into a debate with the donkey guide. She waived him off, saying we were too big, but he argued otherwise, and after a few minutes of back and forth, she got worn down and, thinking it would be an adventure, we were persuaded to ride the donkeys the rest of the way down the mountain.

Poor donkeys!

As it turns out donkeys aren't nearly as sure-footed as one might suspect. They slipped and stumbled no less than I would have. Of course, having four legs instead of only two is probably helpful when trying to avoid a spill.

The ride was slower than expected. I actually felt that I would have made better time on my own. But that is easy for me to say since the donkeys were the ones doing all the walking.

Once again, as often seems to be the case with Greek transportation, we were dropped off well short of our destination. Donkeys don’t take you all the way down—or all the way up for that matter. We were left with a healthy number of steps to go down on foot. But that was OK. In the end it was probably a perfect place to stop as both the donkeys and we were growing weary of one another.

Passing through a few more another labyrinthine passages we found our tender and lined up for the return to trip to our ship.

We had some big plans upon our return but both ladies fell asleep – the wife only after showering away the donkey smell. I showered as well and emerged ready for a nap but, alas, there was no room on the bed. I made myself comfortable in a chair and read.

Dinner came upon us quick - as happens when you are sleeping (I did manage to get a short nap in.) once again we dined in the Edelweiss with Jims and Fiona.

After dinner, daughter-girl broke off for more teen activities. After a quick lap on the upper deck, the little woman and I headed to the ballroom theatre for the headline show, a British comedian. He was entertaining.

We ended the night with hot chocolate and really, that's it.

We plan an early start for tomorrow, when we visit Athens. We’re hoping for another beautiful sunny day.