Santorini, Greece
Trip Start
Oct 03, 2008
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17
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Trip End
Nov 02, 2008
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29 October - A great mountain once rose from the Ionian Sea here in the Greek Islands. The towering natural landmark would have paled into insignificance the later manmade wonders of the Hellenistic world at Rhodes and Troy. Far south in Northwest Egypt, the Israelites labored over brick making and stone quarrying with no perception of this in the Phoenician and pre-Greek world. Word may have reached nearby Atlantis that steam was joining clouds at the top of Santorini, but little if anything would have been understood by it. One day at around 1500 BC the largest explosion in recorded history sent that volcanic island skyward with such force and hot pyroclastic flow that both it and the lightly documented city of Atlantis disappeared suddenly and forever. Today we are exploring the fragmented base of the great mountain. Only a partial ring from the base of the cone-shaped island remains which is settled by Greeks who eek out a meager existence on this windy, arid skeleton of an island. Whitewashed buildings perch atop thousand foot crumbling cliffs facing the moonscaped volcanic core rises from center of the watery ring in the distance. Behind the cliffs terraced hills drop away to the coast studded with little towns and windswept vineyards cascading down to the sea. Winds are so fierce here that vintners braid their vines in ground-hugging circles to protect the grapes from the turbulence. Two black and grey crows and a lone seagull are the only birds we'll see today as Merrie and I tour the entire island on a rented 150cc quad ATV. Presented with the rental agreement and insurance paperwork for signing, I decided to read the small print. Summed up it stated, "This vehicle has no insurance and you will pay for any damage or loss using your Visa card." We at once learn that Santorini is renown for its wine, at least here in Santorini. We eventually sipped an unknown vintage from a label written solely in Greek at Kamari's black rock and pebble covered beach. An intriguing sight was the occasional glimpse of ocean so clear it had the appearance of liquid crystal or flawlessly transparent Jell-o. Sadly, that absolute clarity was wholly lost upon its dark backdrop of the black stone seabed. Occasionally however, a wave top broke high enough to reveal the pure liquid's translucence. At Amoudi Bay on Santorini's western tip, a few Old World fishing boats rock idly in the interior harbor ringed by steep collapsing cliffs and an uncertain sea. Common are twisted concrete reminders of an earthquake that devastated the island fifty years ago. The traditional village of Oia nearby includes crude dwellings carved into the soft lava rock that helped the inhabitants endure the harsh environment. "It is so beautiful, a Paradise that people come from all around the world to see," exclaims Tony the scooter rental owner as I enquire what attracts visitors to his island. "Do these brown fields turn green during the summer tourist season," I ask with hopeful anticipation? He pauses, then responds slightly bewildered, "No." In my travels I frequently find that the most touted landscapes on earth are in stark contrast to those found in the lands that God reserved for the modern descendants of Jacob. For nowhere else is the rainfall as seasonally predictable, the soil as fertile, clear water lakes, rivers and streams, or the land as scenic and the flora and fauna as hospitable. I wish Tony could have the opportunity to leave his tiny island of bare grey cliffs and arid, boulder-strewn terraces to witness life there. But should he come to know environments which we consider common, what would he inevitably return to here in Santorini? Better for him to keep renting scooters that help wow the crowds coming here to "Paradise." We are told our visit has had a very special aspect: no wind today, or suffocating heat. I descended from the cliff's peak following a steep donkey trail often enmeshed in the richness and aroma of their agricultural byproduct. As a warm sun sinks into the balmy haze behind this relic atoll, we are thankful for our pleasant visit to Santorini, my first return to Greece after 37 years.
