Here comes the sun (Santorini)

Another Beatles song that I imagine was more about the sunrise than the sunset, but hey, it's Santorini and everyone is waiting for the sun ... to set.

Our late night chats with Harry, the bartender, are always worthwhile and last evening revealed one of Harry's favourite places on Santorini - Ammoudi Bay, a small inlet beneath the cliff-top town of Oia and today's destination.

I had intended to climb the Skaras today but found it difficult to get motivated this morning. It is much less hazy today and the breeze is more gentle but strong enough to take the bite out of the sun. Jayne contacted Cait through FB messenger this morning to apologise for last night's post-midnight call. When we got home Jayne checked the time in Sydney on the weather app and it said 6:30pm. So she called, not realising the time shown on the app was actually the last time she had checked in. It up-dated itself after she had woken Cait. In the lee of the afternoon, Cait was much more receptive to a conversation from the other side of the world.

Another leisurely breakfast soaking up that gorgeous view and then a brief discussion (punctuated by charades) with the house keeper to have the room sprayed for mosquitoes while we were out. Perhaps some biologist out there might like to explain why we have so many mozzies. There has been no rain, there are no pools of still/stagnant water anywhere, nor lush vegetation - so what gives? I won't be able to donate blood when we get back because I gave too much last night. They came flying in to our room in formation with the Ride of the Valkyries playing in the background. The only other issue - we had no hot water this morning. Not sure what the problem was but it was rectified by the time we returned from Ammoudi.

Nikolas arranged another transfer for us to go to Ammoudi today. Taxis are few and far between and not particularly reliable. The local buses are big for the size of the roads and from what I've seen, standing room only. Just before midday we walked up to the waiting area above our section of the caldera and waited. Within minutes a transfer car arrived - not ours. We spent some time watching the precise manoeuvring of cars, bikes, vans and even trucks in this little square. After 20 minutes I returned to reception to ask of Nikolas where our transfer might be. I understand Greek time, but 20 minutes. He was certain he had booked the car and so back up the hill went I to wait some more. Another 30 minutes later our transport arrived. We are still uncertain as to what went wrong but we were on our way and luckily we had no deadline to make so all was good.

The traffic was reasonably heavy something for which I was uncharacteristically thankful. We were in a line of vehicles heading down the other side of the caldera and I gained the distinct impression that, had it not been for the traffic in front of us, we would have been moving much faster. This was confirmed as we approached one hair-pin bend and our teenaged driver pulled out and overtook the car in front of us. It was a great view of the other side of the island - straight over the edge of the very sheer cliff. I've never been a good passenger because I like to be in control and I was feeling it now. The view back toward Imerovigli was, as expected, quite stunning and there were the usual houses clinging to the cliff-side. On top of the ridge line a sign read: donkey terminal. I think it was the resting place of the renown Oia donkeys at night; not a specific asinine prognosis.

Oia from below

We side-swiped Oia, figuratively speaking, and met a conga line of coaches stuttering their way through the narrow streets. If I'd been able to open my window I could have written my name on the side of each of the 10 or so coaches as they lurched past, ferrying their precious cargo of cruise-ship passengers back to Fira. Oia, what we could see of it, was crowded. There were many tavernas and no doubt the same sort of shops that we visited yesterday in Fira.

Ammoudi Bay

Once past all of the congestion, we began the next descent. I had thought of walking down the 400 stairs and catching a donkey back up, but Jayne wasn't keen. And then we were there. The road literally ended at the water. Ammoudi Bay is another post-card destination. It consists of a wharf, a jewellery store, five restaurants and two paths. One goes up the mountain and the other skirts the water's edge to provide the best vantage points to capture the trademark sunset. Why anyone would be fighting for space at Oia when they could be enjoying the beauty and serenity of Ammoudi beggars belief.

Harry had recommend we eat at one of the two middle restaurants and we chose the Sunset Fish Taverna. Our table was literally right on the water's edge; something that wouldn't happen in Sydney. We were safe though, they had painted a white line on the edge of the concrete and we stayed behind the line. The selection was better than we had seen up the mountain and was traditional Greek food. Today we went for appetisers only: tsatziki and bread, fried saganaki, grilled squid and mussels in white wine and garlic. Absolutely beautiful. Washed down with a litre of the house wine for €14 as opposed to a bottle of anything commencing at €35. Village life in Koroni has made me circumspect about prices.

Sun-dried octopus anyone?

This meal was followed up with baclava and walnut pie both served with ice cream. And espresso for me and a frappe for Jayne. What a perfect day. Brilliant weather, delightful food, stunning view and of course, great company. The time passed quickly with the help of the constant comings and goings at the wharf. Passenger boats from the cruise ships jostled with sunset seeking catamaran crowds. At one stage there two boats from the cruise liners, two yachts and two cats waiting to off-load or pick up passengers but nothing seemed to hurry who ever had the mooring.

A tough day at the office

Around 5pm we called for our transport and walked back to where we were dropped off just in time to see the donkeys making their rather rapid descent down the mountain side. The drive back was less eventful, although the double lines down the middle of the road must signify something different in Greece because no one seems to pay then any attention. Seat-belts, blinkers and brakes are all superfluous on cars over here.

We stopped to chat with Harry on the way past the bar - and just to surprise you dear reader, we did not stop for a drink. Harry suggested that after such a big day we should head back to our unit to rest. and so we did.

The donkey train coming down the mountain

Of course after a suitable resting period we resurfaced to, in Jane Austen terms, take a turn around the pool. Not really, we walked up tp the bar and Harry told us to get a table before they were all occupied. Happily ensconced at our table, sun setting slowly in the west, Harry arrived and we ordered our wine and watched the sky change colours. It's what you do on Santorini. I have about 17,358 photos of the sunset. Slide night! oh yeah!

Another day, another sunset