Chapter 3: Santorini, Greece

After a very refreshing day at sea, during which we attempted to sort out day from night (we changed 10 time zones during our intial travels), the concierge informed us that we were to be reunited with our bags in Santorini, Greece the very next day. I'm not sure if the prospect of seeing my bags or seeing Greece for the first time was more greatly anticipated at that point. I wasn't disappointed in either.

We awoke that morning to see Santorini (both an island and a small town) perched on the top of a nearby cliff. We took a tender into the old port, where I saw my two missing bags sitting in a very large pile of suitcases right on shore. Apparently we were not the only ones missing them. In fact, the concierge later told me that a total of 50 staterooms left Venice without suitcases.

We hopped aboard a bus and fought the two lanes of traffic up the one-lane mountain road. Thankfully I was sitting on a seat on the left of the bus and didn't have to look out a window at the sheer drop below. The views from the top were amazing. Our ship was anchored in a "caldera" or ancient, sunken volcanic crown. The island used to be circular, but is now shaped like a moon sliver with the caldera in the middle. This is one very possible site for the lost city of Atlantis, we were told. All the locals believe this to be true.

Before arriving in Santorini, we visited the small, picturesque village of Oia (pronounced "ee-uh"). Most of the buildings were painted white, a tradition dating back to the plague. The city was built as a fortress against pirates, and colored the same as the surrounding rocks to aid in its camoflage. When the plague came along, the best defense was found in a white substance with medicinal properties, which was painted on all the houses. To this day, the houses are still painted white; a beautiful setting.

The cobblestone roads were narrow and doorways low, but around every corner was a surprising burst of color and form that awakened the artist in all of us.

Two very old windmills could be seen from the crumbling lookout tower.

Many resorts and hotels are now located along the cliffs in what used to be the "poor" houses. The wealthier families would live away from the cliffs.

Breathtaking views at every turn. Here, I found some beautiful pottery and fired glass bowls for Mom and Lana who were in Phoenix trying to keep the girls out of trouble. I also discovered little donkey cup and saucer sets for Madeline and Katie. The only transportation for hundreds of years on this island were donkeys, and so they are celebrated still.

Once we arrived in Santorini, we could see the caldera again.

The local bakeries are always tempting and this one was spectacular. Franz tried some baklava (how fitting) while I, surprisingly, went for chocolate. It was very helpful to have been taught to say hello, thank you, and you're welcome in Greek. We were richly rewarded at this stop!


Here is a good view of the caldera and our ship, the Celebrity Summit, in the background. We stopped at a local winery called Santo Winery. The Greek specialize in Vino Santo, or ViSanto. When I say specialize, I mean, drink gallons of it. We were all encouraged to try it. I will just take a break here to quote Madeline, "It's not that it tastes bad. It's just that I don't have the tastebuds for it." To me, ViSanto tasted like fruity cough syrup with lots of extra sugar stirred into it. Bleck.
We were given the option of returning to the port via walking down a billion stairs, riding a donkey down a billion stairs, or taking the lift. We looked at the stairs, and chose the lift. I think it was the right choice. We later learned that the donkeys and the people shared the stairs and the sheer volume of donkeys passing down the mountainside resulted in completely slick and stinky steps (and majorly gross shoes). Use your imagination. We later passed two people on the ship who had just gotten back. They smelled exactly like donkeys and so did the stairwell after they'd passed. We got the good view while avoiding life- and sanitary-threatening activities.

I nearly sprinted the final hallway to our room. There, inside, were the long-awaited bags, completely intact. I opened them up to discover nothing missing or even rifled through. The large indentification and itenerary papers that Grandma Gottschalk suggested I include inside my bags were still neatly placed on top. What a relief. It was nice to wear something different to dinner that night. Everyone noticed.