The windy, narrow road passed by old ruins, stone walls, and
along the foothills of a small mountain range as we rode through the hills of
Santorini in the back of a taxi.
Finally, we arrived at our apartment which was situated in the hills
above the village of Emporio. Our Air bnb hostess was awaiting our arrival and
after greeting us, we began walking up a flight of winding white stone steps
that led past other apartments up to ours.
Our apartment was one of the highest on the hill and included an
enclosed patio and a small pool about the size of a hot tub. The interior was small but very charming and
perfect for two people. Our hostess was
delightfully talkative and helpful as she showed us around. We marveled in the conversation and listened
to her patiently, but we had a dinner reservation in Imerovigli in thirty
minutes that we didn’t want to miss. I
finally was able to break in and ask her how far away the town was. “Oh, that’s far at all” she replied. “It’s about two, maybe three
cigarettes”. I looked at her
quizzically. “Two or three
cigarettes?”. She sensed my confusion
and began laughing. “In Santorini, we
measure car ride times by how many cigarettes you can smoke along the
way”. By two or three cigarettes, she
meant that the car ride was about twelve to fifteen minutes. All three of us had a good laugh at that one. Thirty minutes later, we arrived at La Maison
restaurant and were escorted to our table.
Once we sat down at our outdoor table, I noticed the view and thought I
was dreaming. The sun was beginning set,
turning the horizon reddish orange.
Directly in front of us was a beautiful view of the ocean with the
island of Nea Kameni in the center, some twelve hundred feet below. White buildings lined the cliff side above
the ocean on either side of us and were visible all the way down the coast in
both directions, owing to Santorini’s unique shape loosely resembling a
backwards “C”. The white buildings were
mostly villas and houses and were lighting up as the sun gradually set. Our food was remarkable and we lounged around
for a couple of hours, taking in the view.
When it was time to leave, we had trouble dialing a cab driver with our
cell phones, so the hostess kindly offered to call for us. She came back a minute later letting us know
that the driver was on his way.
“Efcharisto poli” I said, thanking her.
The people of Santorini were incredibly welcoming and
accommodating. Our hostess at our
apartment had also helped us by calling the same cab driver who had dropped us
off from the airport to drive us to the restaurant. We made small chit chat with the wait
staff. Many of them were from the
mainland, close to Athens, and were in Santorini doing seasonal work.
We spent the next three days riding our rented ATV around
the island visiting beaches, shopping in Thira, sailing around the caldera,
swimming in the ocean, and eating delicious cuisine at the local
restaurants. As a gyro fanatic, I was
thoroughly impressed with the food just about everywhere we ate. The gyro was juicy and flavorful, but the
tzatziki sauce was noticeably more robust than most of the Mediterranean
restaurants I frequented in the U.S.
Every morning I woke up and went for a run to start off the day. I would run from our apartment down the windy
road into Emporio, and out to the beach.
After returning home, I would take a shower and ride the ATV down to the
local bakery to buy fruit and baklava for breakfast. When I bit into the first piece of baklava I
had, I almost fainted. It was about two
inches thick and deliciously sweet with honey dripping from the bottom as I
picked it up. Three days later, we
departed the ferry boat and arrived on the island of Mykonos. Santorini had been beautiful and relaxing,
but Mykonos, which is known for its vibrant night life and being home to over
forty beaches, had a different vibe. The
view from our villa was the best yet. It
rested peacefully at the end of a steep, narrow road overlooking the pure blue
ocean below with other Greek islands visible in the distance. As the sun fell below the horizon, the lights
began to shine from the houses on the hills and the ferry boats in the ocean. The next morning, we jumped into our rental
car and headed out to explore the famous beaches. Our hostess was very informative and told us
about the best beaches to explore the night before. We stopped at a small restaurant at the foot
of the hill near the water where the food was delicious and my Greek coffee was
strong, muddy, and thick as motor oil.
It was better than any coffee I had ever had in the United States and
wired me with energy. The fascinating
and magical thing about Mykonos is that one moment you could be driving through
old ancient ruins in the middle of nowhere, and the next moment you crest a
hill and a beautiful beach appears below.
Such as the case when we drove to Paradise Beach. It was a gorgeous sandy beach with umbrella
chairs, a gift shop, restaurant, and of course a couple of bars. We laid in the sun and when we got too hot,
we’d run into the clear blue ocean and swim for a while to cool off. Then we’d lay in the sun and dry off and
repeat the same process over again. We
followed the same process at Super Paradise Beach, which was a little bigger
and known for its parties. When we left
the beach at 6:00 PM, dance music was playing and people were already starting
to dance on the tables in the bars. I
imagined what it would have been like if we came back at 11:00 PM. We spent the evening walking around the town
of Mykonos, which is the main town on the island and where most of the island’s
residents live. The town offers numerous
activities and services catering to tourists including several restaurants,
bars, clubs, and stores. The scene
resembled an outdoor mall as we walked along the narrow walkway through a maze
of white buildings. We passed expensive
clothing stores, gelato shops, restaurants with small outdoor tables, and clubs
with dance music thumping inside. There were
all walks of life around. College
students, millennials, and older folks from all over the world and everyone
seemed to be having a great time.
The next morning, I awoke before dawn feeling
energized. The jet lag had turned my
sleeping pattern upside down and although I was getting enough sleep, it was
difficult to wake up before sunrise, which was something I am used to doing
regularly. This was the earliest I had
woken up during our trip and I thought it would be a great opportunity to get a
longer ten or eleven mile run in. I
threw my gear on and opened the door to our villa, breathing in the fresh, cool
air. I took off down the narrow road,
running down a steep downhill path with lights along the hill in the distance
below me leading to the ocean, which appeared to be a giant black hole in the
predawn darkness. The path led to a
junction where the road forked off to the left and continued down towards the
ocean with the other road veering slightly right, leading further into the
hills towards a lighthouse. I chose the
latter. Our hostess had talked about a
lighthouse located at the end of a desolate road in the hills that had a great
view. After a steep climb, I came upon
it. It rested majestically atop a hill
on the edge of a cliff side. The steep
road had led to a small dirt parking lot with a path leading up to the lighthouse. The sun was just cracking the eastern skyline
and the light still shined brightly, bringing back memories of visiting the
beaches in Michigan where just about every pier has a lighthouse at the
end. During the overnight sailing trips
with my Dad and his racing pals along the Michigan coastline, we would always
see the lighthouses on shore, sometimes using them as navigation tools. I always marveled in how cool it looked being
out on the lake in the middle of the night and watching the lights make their 360-degree
turn, flashing out on the lake, around the mainland, then back out to the lake
every few seconds. I stood on the cliff
side admiring the view of the ocean and slowly turned back, looking towards the
hills behind me. I noticed a distant
mountain peak a few miles away that appeared to be the highest point on the
island. Once I found my way back to the
dirt parking lot, I located a road that appeared to lead towards this
peak. The road began a gradual incline
and crested a hill, with several houses and villas along the road at the
top. From there, it dipped down and
started winding towards a small valley where a few horses were standing in the field
below. I veered to the left, crested
another hill, and came upon a fork in the road with one path continuing straight,
the other leading towards the peak. At
the corner was a wooden sign in the shape of an arrow pointing up the road to
the summit. All it read was “Kastro” in
Greek letters. I figured this was likely
the name of the peak and I began running up the road, which soon turned to a
dirt trail along the mountain side. The
peak was getting closer and closer and after several twists and turns, I
finally made it to the rocky summit. I
was standing on the highest peak in the area which offered a sweeping panoramic
view of the island of Mykonos, as well as the surrounding islands and the
ocean. The sun had now made its way into
the sky, adding a vibrant orange to the surroundings. The experience was surreal. I spent about ten minutes admiring the view
on top of that peak and for those ten minutes it felt as if nothing else
mattered. All my concerns melted away
and I didn’t have a care in the world. I
didn’t think about the future, or the past.
I just lived in the moment. I
focused completely on the present, on what I was doing and where I was at that
particular moment. While running down, I
thought about the story of Pheidippides, the ancient Greek messenger who ran
from Marathon to Athens to deliver the news of a Greek victory over the
Persians in the Battle of Marathon and immediately collapsing and dying after
proclaiming the victory to the people of Athens, thus creating the basis for
the modern-day marathon. I was about one
hundred miles away from where this run took place but running through the hills
in the country where long distance running was invented was one of the most inspiring
experiences of my life. My journey
continued down towards the ocean, along the road, and when I arrived back at
our villa, I had covered around eleven miles.
Janet was awake in bed so I drove into town to get us some
breakfast. I felt like the happiest guy
in the world and was all smiles when I greeted the employees of the bakery and
fruit market with an enthusiastic “Ya Sas!”, a standard Greek greeting that
doubles as both hello and goodbye.
The following afternoon, we boarded our flight to begin the
long journey home. We had a twelve-hour
layover in Moscow, followed by a twelve-hour flight back home to Los
Angeles. Let me tell you, spending
twelve hours in an airport terminal is not pleasant. It was tough getting sleep on a tile floor using
a backpack as a pillow, and after listening to the flight announcements on the
PA system almost non-stop for eight hours, it took every ounce of composure I had
to not scale the pillar like a koala bear, tear the speaker off and throw it
out the window. When we finally made it
home, Janet and I both fell asleep at 5:00 PM and slept straight through the
night. I awoke in the middle of the
night thinking about our trip and what an incredible journey it was. The history, delicious food, kind people,
natural beauty, all things I will miss about Italy and Greece, and how I would
love to return to both countries someday.
My last thought before falling back asleep was how rejuvenating it felt
being back home in my own bed.
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