Tourist Trap (Santorini)

 

27th Sept 2020 (Santorini)

We’ve just spent a few days exploring the ‘delights’ of Santorini, and thought it would be worthwhile capturing some of the detail before it fades from memory.

The island itself has very limited safe anchorage options for sailors, so we instead opted to pay for a mooring buoy on a neighbouring island and get the ferry across. 

Leaving the boat tied to a buoy out side ‘Captain John’s’ ... a quayside restaurant, currently manned by a gaggle of surly young men who give off a shifty up to no good air - this may just be that they’re tired and it’s late in the season, or that the day is overcast and threatening rain, either way, we didn’t get a very good or welcoming feeling from them - you’d think they could crack a smile charging €25 for the use of a mooring buoy out of season. Oh well. 

Securely locked the boat, and jumped on the quaint little cream and blue wooden ferry that scoots us across to Santorini for a much more reasonable €1.

Opting to walk up the steep cliffs to the town of Oia, (the sun is now back to its usual baking self)..we slowly trudged up, marvelling at the stark contrast between the dark rusty red and blacks of the volcanic rock and the vivid whites and pastel blues of the town perched above. We’re offered donkey rides on our ascent - strategically placed about 50 steps up the climb, where people’s legs are beginning to tire. We decline, but others take up the offer. Having worked up something of a glow by the time we reach the top (~250 steps) we’re glad to be walking on slightly more horizontal paths. The small winding paths that weave through the town are thronged with stereotypical tourist characters: sunburnt, large cameras around their necks, hats and Bermuda shorts that they surely couldn’t wear back home. We don masks and make snail like progress towards the bus station, having to stop in line at each beauty spot to allow the requisite pictures to be taken. Don’t get me wrong, the vistas posed in front of are stunning, but having been so isolated on the boat and more used to visiting the less inhabited islands, the sheer mass of people is something of a shock. After a few wrong turns, we eventually make it to the bus station, where we’re able to immediately hop onto a close to full, air conditioned bus heading to Fira (Santorini’s main town). 

After a short 20 min bus journey through the countryside and numerous whitewashed settlements, we arrive with some trepidation at Fira: We have heard from many of the sailors we’ve met that despite the hype, Santorini, and especially Fira, is somewhere that should be avoided. First impressions aren’t brilliant, but you could surely say that of any town arriving at the bus station. Made the short walk to the hotel we’ve booked for the night; it’s down a quiet and peaceful lane away from the town centre, and is actually quite impressive (once we were able to get our keys: it took two phone calls and a long wait in reception: that’s what you get for arriving during siesta time!). Our room is clean and modern, and has a bed that you can walk around and doesn’t rock, and a full sized shower - such luxuries we’re no longer accustomed to living on the boat. Headed to town via a Mexican restaurant for a bite to eat - mine was great, Chez’s not so much - the perils of vegetarianism.

Expecting the worse, the town wasn’t really all that bad at all. Yes, there were numerous fast food restaurants and gift shops, and too many tourists (only ~ 10% of whom have masks on), and yes, it had a slightly grubby feel about it here and there. All that is more than offset by the wondrous views at every turn, the height above the azure blue sea, the warren of smooth whitewashed buildings with occasional bursts of pink and purple from the flower laden bourganvilia draped across them. We strolled, returned to the hotel for a brief pre-sunset siesta then headed back into town and to a nice position we’d scoped out earlier to enjoy the setting sun - a spectacle surprisingly and amusingly enhanced by the numerous pouty lipped, selfie stick holding ladies, and well heeled pot bellied chaps keen to capture the moment. Once set, we headed for a bite to eat - we’ve worked out (after seeing a Greek salad advertised at €12) that the pricing matches exactly the restaurant’s location and views. Neither of us feeling overly hungry, or keen to spend a great deal of money, we chose a giros place two streets back, and dined on mediocre but reasonably priced fair.

Back to hotel for an early (ish) night, which despite the non rocking bed, was a fairly disturbed affair - the hotel dog yapping all night didn’t help. 

Woke and checked out early, as we’re meeting up with Martin and Debbie (previous boat guests now staying at a beach resort on the island) at the bus station at 10. Coffee on the way, and met them, and caught our bus without issue. Our destination today is a town that had been covered by the volcanic ash when the island exploded. The town estimated at somewhere between 5000 and 3500BC has been well preserved, and is still in the process of being uncovered. Entry was free - always a bonus. Spent an interested hour or so walking around the areas open to the public, marvelling at the decorated pots, wall friezes and sheer scale of the place. A long wait for the return bus followed - with a confusing timetable that made me a little twitchy. It’s strange, I think being away from the boat has made me a little anxious, and will be glad to get back to her.  

Once we were back in Fira (the main town) Martin treated us to a lovely lunch - all of us having chosen good dishes, before we parted ways. It’s the last day of their holidays today - I think they’ve enjoyed it, but probably not what they’d envisioned. We made it back to Oia in good time, once again braved the steps back down to the ferry quay, and with time to kill, stopped at a quayside restaurant for a beer overlooking the now choppy water. The table next to ours was occupied by a snappily dressed black French guy and his girlfriend - their waiter was explaining the price of a fish dish: “the fish is €77” - I caught the French guy’s eye at that point and made a ‘Coo... that’s a lot’ raised eyebrow face to him. I’m not sure how I would have reacted in the situation, but he looked at the waiter, then lent back in his chair and laughed heartily at the ludicrous price. He continued to chuckle away as the waiter continued explaining the overpriced fair - it was refreshingly good to see someone show a bit of honesty in these situations. Ferry soon arrived, and we made it home to find her safe and sound where we’d left her the previous morning.