Got up early and went to Akrotiri which is a beautiful little quiet town full of abandoned houses and ancient ruins that predate Pompeii by 2000 years.
These ruins are different from Pompeii and though excavated, they remain underground covered by a roof (which collapsed once and killed a tourist). Walking the streets, peeking into shops and homes gives me a real sense of what it might have been like to live there. The frescos found in these homes are beautiful. I believe I shall paint the Blue Monkeys in my grotto. Once I get a grotto.
Most of the people of Santorini were able to escape the volcanic eruption, so unlike Pompeii there were no bodies, but everything else was frozen in time.
The village of Pyros was my next stop. There were more dogs and cats wandering than people. I love these old places. Went for a swim and then on to Oia on the sunset tip of the island. This was the busiest place on the island. Thousands of people gather on summer nights to watch the sun go down. The streets were packed and it was hard to find a decent spot, but I took a path less travelled and found a perch on a cliff at the edge of the sea. Beautiful as it was, I have to say, my balcony view is more spectacular. The best part was how tourists applaud the sun. I think we should do that every night. Run out and clap for the sun.
Paths less travelled always lead me to places I probably should not be. Trying to find the bus, I ended up on some dark road where the lights of the city faded behind a ridge. My useless sense of direction led me along a strip of unsavoury bars and doorways with shadowy figures sipping from bottles. I always have a hard time retracing my steps, so I bolted down an alley toward the sea hoping to get my bearings. This works well anywhere but on the tip of an island where three directions will lead you to the sea. Two are wrong but I eventually found my way to the only bus left in the parking lot down the hill. The lights were on and the motor was running, so down the hill I slid and made my ride with the usual minor injuries.
On the bus home, I can still taste sea salt on my lips and volcanic dust in my mouth. It's been a long and lovely day and I feel like a kid on the way home from Disneyland. Content, happy and nothing to do but drift off into a smiling sleep.
There is a sign in my bathroom that reads "Do not fill the tub as the taps cannot handle it." I was in dire need of a bath so I went to the office and asked if that meant I could not have a bath. "No, yes, you can have a bath." Good enough.
I sat on the balcony for a bit, finished my wine and filled the tub with bubbles and the hottest water Santorini can muster. The taps took it like champs. Once soundly boiled and scrubbed, I retired for the night.
I layed in bed for a few minutes listening to the sea gurgling and sloshing along. I was amazed I could hear the sea. I could not. I was hearing the sound of a bathtub overflowing and water consuming the floor and cascading over the doorway into my bedroom. In the darkness, I could see the moat which had formed around my bed. The taps in Santorini are fine. It is the drains who don't know their purpose. I got up and spent an hour or so mopping up water and praying the Brit downstairs was not doused.
So ended my last perfect day in Santorini. By the way, the Greeks are tricksters. Santorini IS Thira. Thira is Santorini.
