Poly Zesto in Santorini

On the advice of a very pleasant couple called Gosia and Mitchell whom we met in the restaurant last night, we decided to hike the 10 km from Fira to Oia in Santorini. So we got up nice and early this morning and caught the first tender from the ship to the island at about 7.30 a.m. We were so early that the shops and cafés of Santorini were only just waking up; displays were being set up and boxes of supplies were being carried along the narrow alleyways of Fira, which is a pretty village with white painted houses on a steep hill only accessible from the port by gondola or up a long set of stairs. We found a small café where the owner was amazed that I wanted to sit outside to take advantage of the cool morning breeze. He indicated that it was cold, and indeed he was wearing a zip up jacket, but I told him that for me it was very hot. “Poly Zesto!” he translated in disbelief. 

The breeze was great for me; without it I would never have been able to go on the hike because it would have been far too hot for me. We walked out of Fira and followed the curve of the caldera with the sea on our left. It was such a beautiful walk with the deep blue sea below us and clusters of white buildings and little white churches dotted along our path. We ascended a small hill and then descended to the road before the path rose again over a last hill and into Oia. At this point I jumped onto a bus because it was getting too hot for me; James walked on and we met a short time later in Oia. 

Oia is incredibly gorgeous, picture postcard pretty. Its white buildings, a few of them pastel-coloured, and its white churches with blue domes, are stacked on the slopes of the hill. At the end of the village there are a couple of white windmills, no doubt built to take advantage of that breeze I was talking about. We had lunch in a small restaurant overlooking the sea and then strolled through the pretty, narrow streets. It was very busy with tourists but that didn’t really bother us, after all we’re tourists ourselves! In due course we took a bus back to Fira and then stood in a long queue for the gondola; with hindsight we should really have walked down the steps, avoiding the donkey poop (convoys of donkeys carry tourists up and down them.) As we neared the head of the queue there was a bit of drama; a group of Italian tourists brazenly pushed in. The valiant British and American tourists tried to prevent them, but it was no use, they squeezed in anyway. It was annoying because everyone else had been waiting for ages. 

At the port we quickly got on a tender back to the ship and showered off the dust of Santorini before going for pre-dinner drinks.