Santorini, Greece, Friday March 28th

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The caldera is spectacular – the only disappointment for me was that I had anticipated being able to see down through the water to the collapsed rocks, perhaps with some bubbles rising and even better if a little lava was leaking. Maybe there is scope for a sound and light show specialist to cater for tourists like me. We viewed the caldera from many spots on the island, always with awe at how vertical the sides are.

The archaeological museum at Fira had an interesting collection of ceramics, and we were able to recognise the indicators for some of the different eras. The difference between the geometrical patterns on 7^th century BC ware and the flowing animals and humans on 6th century BC ware is obvious if you know what to look for. There was a frustrating lack of information. Many of the items were from Ancient Thera, a site we then set out to visit.

Ancient Thera was built on the top of a mountain. We walked the two and a half kilometres to the top, the weather deteriorating from windy to driving rain. As we reached the gates lightening and thunder raced around the mountain top. We scuttled towards a little church and joined a group of about eight American quad riders who were seeking refuge from the weather too. After a while, with the sky continuing to darken and flashes of lightening coming closer to the thunder, they decided to give up and ride back to the town below. They offered us a lift but we were hopeful of an improvement so we opted to stay for a while. Eventually, with closing time only fifteen minutes away, the guard came in and said he was going soon and that the church we were in was not safe since the walls had cracks. In addition he urged us to check our ferry since the seas were churning violently in the storm. I took off my camera to put my jumper on under my coat and we set off down the mountain. We had not even glimpsed one stone of Ancient Thera.

We drove down to the black beach where the surf certainly was wild.

I got out to take a photo and discovered that my camera was missing. It could only be up the mountain in the little church, behind the locked fence of the Ancient Thera site. We drove up the mountain in the hope that the site worker or the guard were still around. The place was deserted but at least there was a break in the weather. Keith scaled the gate, collected my camera, and climbed back out again. Afterwards I thought that it was lucky that there wasn’t an alarm or watch dog. What a hero!

Having seen the black beach with tiny black stones that in summer become so hot that you need thongs on and a mat to lie on, we drove off in search of the red beach. The island is about 16 km long but every road is a windy one and you need to go in various directions to end up where you want. The way to the red beach passed the Akrotiri site (supposedly like Pompeii), where some modern walls and lots of signs for contractors were all that we could see. A little further on there was a cluster of tavernas, all belonging to some captain or other.

Eventually we reached a church built against the rocks on the headland. The cliff above it was red, with many huge red boulders lying at its base. Graffiti had been obliterated by painting over it in red, unfortunately not quite the perfect match for the rocks. Someone had even graffitied white crosses on the rocks just above the church.

Braving the wind we walked along the track beside the sea and came to the spectacular red beach. It has red scoria sand and red cliffs. The sea looked blood stained as the scoria rolled about in the heavy surf.

We were keen to get to Oia before the sunset, hoping for a good one tonight. We called at the supermarket and collected Frey’s gift, plus supplies for the 18 hour ferry trip that would start at 4.10 am. The sunset was dismal and the streets, which have no rain absorbing garden sections, were streaming with water. We visited the Atlantis book shop and chatted with the two girls working there. The shop was started by a group of friends who visited Santorini and though it was perfect except that it lacked a bookshop. They purchased a site and set up the shop with accommodation attached. The girls currently working there are not paid; they are family friends of the owners. They have free accommodation in return for working for a month or two. They told us that hotel rooms in Oia are very expensive, hundreds of euros a night. Thank goodness we stayed in Fira. The shop was a delightful trap, and despite the one book at a time (because of weight) rule, we left with two. They are Orhan Pamuk’s ‘Istanbul, Memories and the City’ and ‘Christ Recrucified’ by the Greek author, Nikolas Kazantzakis.

We parked in Fira and Keith prepared some photos for the blog. Our tea was copious amounts of chocolate milk. Since we were not able to find out any news about the ferry, we had to assume it was as scheduled. After some internet time, we drove down to the port to sleep in the car outside the car hire place. At three o’clock the action at the port started and by four we were aboard.

Santorini was a very interesting island to visit but, without a car, the bad weather and distances would have meant that we could not have made the most of our one and a half day visit. We had heard of, but not seriously considered, ferry delays, so it was a bit of a wake up call for us and made us realise how lucky we have been weather wise to date. Apparently Santorini is extremely crowded in the summer and really does take on an all night party atmosphere. Although people were out and about at 11.30 pm while we were there, the tone on the streets was fairly quiet.

Walking up the mountain to Ancient Thera there were lots of wattles in bloom.