Sensational Santorini
A 6am flight seemed quite doable when I was booking all those months ago but what I failed to fully comprehend at the time was that for an international flight, you need to be at the airport at least 2 hours beforehand…bringing us to the outrageously early time of 4am, which let’s face it, is basically the middle of the night. Our saintly taxi driver arrived at 3:45 to collect us and deliver us to our plane in a semi-conscious state. Everything was going swimmingly through customs. Rather than individual bag weigh-ins, European customs do a cumulative bag weight for the whole family. It’s such a great idea and makes more sense than shifting stuff from one bag to another. As I said, it was all going smoothly… until they found a rock in Maisy’s luggage. She had grabbed a rock that took her fancy in Spain and had kept it as a souvenir. She loved this rock and was devastated at the thought of losing it now. The beloved rock was paraded on gloved hand around all the customs officers and after much consideration was eventually returned to Maisy’s possession. She was stoked. She had also thought she’d be apprehended for having Italian Tic-Tacs because they “looked like pills”!
Toby and I were seated next to one another on the plane, with another guy occupying the window seat next to us. His girlfriend was sitting directly in front of him and spent the entire flight, up on her knees, facing him (& us), locked in his embrace and locked to his lips! Their loud, continuous smooching, complete with lip-smacking sound effects, made for a slightly awkward flight indeed. We weren’t quite sure where to look!
As we neared Santorini we could see big mountains out the window and the sea below but there was lots of cloud cover producing turbulence and making it a rough old landing. The pilot got a clap when the plane finally came to a halt. I had arranged an airport transfer through our accomodation and the guy I’d been corresponding with was named Harris. Sure enough, once our bags were collected, there was a driver holding up a card displaying our names. So far, so good. We were surprised at how arid Santorini was. The earth was very parched and rocky; the grass dry and brown. The driver pointed out some unusual Santorini-style vineyards along the way. Due to a lack of water, the grape vines (for white wine only) are not staked or trellised but just left to grow along the ground in big green clumps. It looked so peculiar and certainly not like a vineyard. He said the wine was very nice so we’ll have to give it a try.
As we curved up the winding roads to leave the coast far below us, there was a thick low cloud cover hovering above the island, completely obscuring the view in parts. It was really strange. There was so much farmland on Santorini too which I hadn’t expected.
Soon our driver came to an abrupt stop at a boomgate. There seemed to be a lot of commotion outside the car and we were told must get out of the car now. This didn’t look like the accommodation in the pictures. It was all a bit confusing. A man with long grey hair and a bushy moustache to match, introduced himself as George and told us our accommodation wouldn’t be ready for another hour or two. He took my phone number and said he’d call when he was ready. When I questioned him about where the house was, he said it was a l-o-n-g way from here. While we were still in a daze, George and his two henchmen, grabbed all our luggage and headed up the hill. Hmmm. Had we just been hustled? Where was Harris? Who was George? It all seemed so suspicious. Toby was convinced it was an elaborate heist, with George, the driver and maybe even Harris, in cahoots. We could do nothing but wait and see.
We found a beautiful pool bar where we could bide some time in some comfy banana chairs overlooking the ocean. We would have stayed longer but the $12 milkshakes were a rip-off and we wanted to take a look around. Ross led us up a couple of flights of stairs and around a few corners and then there we were. Right in the heart of the Santorini we’d dreamt of; white-washed archways with bright pink bougainvilleas splashing them with colour; blue domes and church bells and black and white cobbled pathways. It was all there, boxes stacked neatly into the hillside gazing down at the tranquil blue ocean below. It was breathtaking! It was also very hot.
As we huddled in the little shade we could find, we had time to peruse the comings and goings of all the people in the labyrinth of houses on the hill and then suddenly, Sam had spotted our friend George! He was moving at a frenetic pace going from house to house. He had no idea we were watching his every move from our sneaky vantage point. Though we didn’t have an exact address for our place, (apparently no one in Oia does) Sam was able to pinpoint it on a map and lead us down there to check it out. I still hadn’t heard from George but this place was almost too good to be true! We were standing right out the front when none other than George himself turned up, a little surprised to see us. An older Greek lady was still mopping the floor and seemed a bit grumpy we’d showed up early but…sure enough, there were our bags and this incredible little white-washed house, set into the cliff, right in front of the famous 3 bell tower, overlooking the sea was really where we were staying! It wasn’t a heist after all! As Toby would say, it was ‘legit’! How exciting!
Our house, an authentic Santorini cave house, has oodles of character. There are cute little white framed casement windows from one room into the next, white painted floorboards and white rendered curving walls, with aged wooden double doors leading into the little kitchen cave. The whitewashed bathrooms look like they have literally been carved out of a rock. If you lived here I imagine you’d rack up a pretty high Spray’n’Wipe bill – all that white! We even have our own little splash pool out the front, as do most of the houses on the hill. One curious thing we noticed when we got here was the sign in the bathroom that said not to flush any paper. Huh? Are they talking ‘toilet’ paper? A quick Google search revealed the unwanted truth – yes, they are referring to toilet paper. Oh my goodness. You have to put your used toilet paper in the BIN! Ewww. Trip Advisor had the stellar suggestion of purchasing some scented nappy sacks for the job (or the remnants of the job) but we couldn’t locate any at the shops. We settled for freezer bags but it really does feel wrong not to flush it.
Below us – far below – was a beautiful looking bay with exquisitely clear water, beckoning us to dive in and cool down. It looked like paradise. George told us it was called Amoudi Bay and showed us how to access the right pathway down. It was a very steep descent down wide, sloping coblestone steps, slippery in spots, and we were joined by a team of hard-working donkeys, their presence made known long before we’d caught sight of them, by the little aromatic, steaming piles they’d left behind. Toby rightly said it smelt like a zoo.
Red-faced and drenched, we opted for a cool drink and bite to eat before our swim, dining at an amazing absolute waterfront fish restaurant in Amoudi Bay that served delicious fresh salads and seafood. We learnt from our waiter that ‘efcharistó’ means thanks and that ‘yarsis’ (no idea how to write it) means hello and goodbye. Now all we need is ‘sorry’ and we should be set.
Around the rocks we found a beautiful swimming spot with a giant rock, once attached to the mainland, rising dramatically out of the ocean. There was a charter boat full of prospective Contiki Tour-goers, jumping off the rock, taking selfies and having a wow of a time. Though it was fairly crowded, everyone was friendly and the water was incredibly clear. Maisy had brought her goggles and we each had a turn of popping them on and gazing below us. In turn, we had the exact same reaction as we resurfaced: “WOW!” There was a crystal clear section where we were swimming (you could clearly make out each crease in your toes) and then a ledge with a massive drop off. Maisy was quoting Marlin from ‘Finding Nemo’, “The drop-off! Did you guys go to the drop-off?!” The wind had come up and the surface was a bit choppy but beneath the chop was like another world. It was insane!
Ross was hailed as a hero, by every member of a group of Russian holiday-makers when he gave each one of them a leg up to get them back on shore. He and Sam also rescued a couple of damsels in distress when they were drifting in the current.
If the walk down had been hot and hard-going, the walk up was on another level all together (you see what I did there?) It was unbelievably steep, and hot and long. Each wide step sloped upwards and the gradient, coupled with the temperature, made for a torturous uphill trek. Many people had opted to utilise the donkeys but I felt like it was cruel to inflict these poor hot beasts with such a climb and the added burden of hauling me up the hill. Being the most unfit member of the family, I was coming in, a convincing last, and with the rest of the family shouting down words of encouragement – “Come on Mum, you can do it!”, “You’re nearly there!” I felt like I was on an episode of the Biggest Loser. I also felt like I was either going to have a heart attack or throw up. Thankfully (miraculously) I did eventually reach the crest with my heart still ticking and the contents of my tummy intact. I’m doubtful I could do it again.
There are no cars beyond the boomgate, explaining rationally why we were dropped there this morning. Being inside Oia is like being in a vertical suburb, closed off from the outside world. Toby reckons it feels like Tatooine from Star Wars. The blinding white everywhere means sunnies are essential and the stairs and meandering paths between houses give a real sense of community. Neighbours enjoy beers and the view together on their flat rooves and there’s a flow of foot traffic past the front door as people make their way around the stony flagging. Looking up the hill behind us, everyone is out and enjoying the view, most of them posing for their perfect Instagram shot. Our place is in a particularly picturesque spot and a popular one for photo shoots. This afternoon, Sam enthusiastically assisted in a fashion shoot (which could have been a wedding) by holding a the train of an incredible green dress out in the wind. He had to drop it when she gave the word! We’ve also had brides practising their perfect poses right in our front yard!
This really is a unique part of the world and one I’ve always wanted to visit. If possible it’s even better in real-life and has more than met our expectations. We had dinner, with lots of other Australians, at Lotz, a restaurant with a million dollar view and pinched ourselves again to make sure we really were here.
