Santorini

Leaving Naxos and our beloved buggy behind we were off to Santorini, the Greek Island playgound of the rich, famous and those unafraid of staying on an active volcano. We fall into the later group of travellers. Entering Santorini via ferry from Naxos takes you through the western portal of the crater beneath the famous town of Oia and along the sheer craggy walls past Fira to the new port.

If we thought that Naxos disembarkation of visitors from the immense ferries was crazy this was well beyond. Caught in the stampede of rolly bags, tour groups and the occassional semi-trailer we found our safehaven under the armpit of the Santorini Camping spruker. Only a 2 minute walk from the centre of Fira we set up camp under a boganvillia.

Without further adue we went straight for the clifface. Fira is perched on the edge of the volcanic crater overlooking the still active black heart of Santorini. Nearly 350 metres directly above sealevel it is easy to understand why the view is so spectacular. Retreating a few streets back we stocked up on gyros, cold drinks and chips and returned to sit on the wall and admire the sunset.

Day 1 - 8 June
Camilla made the decision without hesitation and selected a resplendant pirate ship to venture out to the bubbling gurggling steaming centre of the island. Walking through town in the morning before the sun was high enough to start penetrating the alleyways we followed the signs to 'Donkey Station'. Dodging nearly 100 rose scented asses (make of that comment what you will) we descended the 450 stairs to the old port just in time to see our ship dock. Joining the flock of other wanabe pirate volcano exploring adventurers the bow pointed through the 30 knot wind and made the short crossing to the volcano.

Our less than satisfactory tour leader was shortly desserted as we scrambled over the lava rock, crunching like coco pops / rice bubbles beneath our feet. Mounting the first crater ridge we stood in silent awe of this young landmass as we visualised the monstrous power of the beast.

With Fira and Oia sitting high above us like snow capped mountains we realised that the small volcanic mound in the centre of Santorini is merely the top of a pimple penetrating deep into the skin of the earth. It is like walking on the moon between the black lava flows whilst having the opportunity to look back in time at the powers which have helped to create some of our great landscapes. WE ARE FROM THIS DAY FOURTH VOLCANOPHILES.

The second stop on the tour was to the hot spings. In retrospect had this been avoided we would not have missed much. Diving off the boat into the cool clear agean sea we swam with the other 40 tourists into a luke warm (not very though) cove of mud and turbid water. The perfect desciption of the experience came from our native tongue in thick outback Queensland twang 'Its like walking barefoot through the chicken coup'. Spot on love, need we say more.

Arriving back at the old port looking up at the 500+ stairs to Fira and the embassy beyond it was a no-brainer to guess that the 8 euros was easily parted with for two strong healthy donkeys. Amplifying the Greek / Australian language divide Steve was giving a small stick with Camilla and beast in tow, the end. Giggling the entire way up whilst trying to take out American tourists (we tease, it was by no means discretionary, everyone was in danger) descending.

Nearing the halfway mark we felt like old hats at donkey whispering. With no assistance whatsoever at the top we parked our asses among the 100+ beasts awaiting their next customer. Although the cable car may ACTUALLY smell like roses there is no real alternative in our minds as to the best way to transport our tired selves uphill.

Reinvigorated from a short swim, de-donkey-smell and removal of remaining hot spring mud we hopped on the Oia bus for the famous sunset. Armed with a near empty photo card and a few more gyros it is absolutely understandable that so many visitors flock to the westernmost town to enjoy the fading light.

Sunset of Santorini, tick - Ouzo in a taverna, tick - Greek coffee, still outstanding... Settling in to a table setting overlooking the crater at sunset we ordered the thick, hot, gritty black beverage. Had they simply melted volcano stones we would not have been the wiser. In a few words it was strong, strong, strong to be washed down only by our very large slice of lemon pie. Heading back to camp we bumped into the German girls from Mykonos and exchanged travel stories for the ride, small world really.

Day 2 - 9 June
Keen to see more of this amazing island we opted for the perversely slow Quad bike option to venture further afield. Top of the list was a visit to Parissa, a black volcanic rock beach on the other side of the island. Spotting our umbrella before the engine stopped with made ourselves comfortable for a 3 hour relaxation, reading, lunch and cafe frappe session with a perfect view. It is possible to over relax as Camilla proved when she underestimated the height of our rusty steel umbrella. Now carrying a mini Harry Potter like scar on her forehead Steve has promised to edit it out of the photos in the coming days.

On our short tour of the island we made a final stop at the eastern clifface to get a good long look at the wall of volcanic rock stretching off into the distance. Santorini has provided us with lasting images of the overwhelming power of nature and our beautiful planet earth.