“We’re not in Kansas anymore” came to mind when we first
laid eyes on Santorini, Greece, so different from anything back home, with its
white washed buildings clinging to cliffs perched high above the Agean Sea.
After a ten hour flight, followed by a two hour layover in Athens to catch our
small plane to the Island, we at last arrived to the quaint, boutique hotel.
Despite our exhaustion we were eager to explore, not wanting to waste a minute
of our 48 hours. Before heading out I sought out Maria the friendly villa
manager, “Is it too early for dinner”, I asked, my preconceived notion late
afternoon was siesta time. She assured
us everything on the Island was open from early until late. The steep street out front took us to the
main plaza of Fira, Santorini’s capital. Suddenly a frantic rush of traffic
came at us from all directions with little regard for our lives, as we jumped
back in the nick of time. I was also on
my way to breaking my neck with these ridiculous, platform sandals, that had no
business being on uneven, cobblestoned streets. Soon however we discovered a delightful taverna,
making everything fade away. “Good evening Mademoiselles” our hostess warmly
greeted us, who seemed to anticipate just what was needed as she led us to a
quiet corner. Here was our first taste of Greece where we fell hard, especially
for the unusual white eggplant, so sweet it melts in your mouth, only cultivated
on the island with its volcanic soil. A double scoop of gelato cooled our
palates, making for a great first impression of what Santorini will offer.
The next morning we took Maria’s sage advice to get right up
with the alarm, even though our jet lagged bodies believed it was 1:00 am back
home on EST. Fueled by a hearty breakfast of eggs with tomatoes and feta,
followed by Greek yogurt with toasted walnuts, drizzled with the most heavenly
honey. This was no ordinary tasting honey. That’s because Greeks have taken
their honey seriously for 3,000 years. Fueled by a hearty breakfast and strong
coffee, we made our way up winding steps far above the streets, where a
shopping paradise existed. Here expensive goods mingled with touristy
souvenirs. Boutiques abounded and we weighed in on the trendiest styles,
observing women wearing loose, gauzy pants and flowing blouses, in sharp
contrast to the guys who sport super tight pants with fitted tops. Which they
pulled off nicely to our eyes. Speaking of eyes, everywhere we went the big
blue eye stared back at us. It was embedded in jewelry, clothing, even
furniture and is believed to ward off sudden bad luck caused by the evil eye.
Apparently the gaze of blue eyed people are thought to project the evil eye
best. Careful not to stare too long at
others, my blue eyed daughter and I did not want to be accused of casting any
spells. At the end of a long, day our bags
were filled with all things Greek; olive oil soaps, sea coral bracelets and
painted ornaments and coasters with island scenes.
A breathtaking path took us to bars and restaurants lining
the cliff’s edge where we went in search of more Greek food and views of the
famous, fiery sunsets. Here friendly but never pushy staff stood outside toting
the virtues of their establishments. We settled on one based on the scope of its
menu. The moussaka layered potatoes, eggplant and tomatoes topped with melted
feta, and spanakopita, a flakey feta filled spinach pie, didn’t disappoint. The
service was what we had become accustomed to, efficient but never rushed, for
the Greeks pride themselves on being gracious hosts. As headed back, we stopped to watch patrons
have their feet nibbled smooth by tiny, garra rufa fish. Although tempted to
dangle our tired dogs in the giant fish tank, we were anticipating a glass of
home grown Retsina wine from our quiet patio, with the moon rising low in the
sky over darkened waters.
Copyright ©
2018, Kim Lawrence-Breuer. Material may be
reprinted or distributed only with author permission
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