The day had come. We were heading home. This was the final leg of our around-the-world trip.
We took a nearly-five-hour, non-stop Blue Star Ferry from Paros back to Athens at 10:45 a.m. We spent the time on the ferry reading, downloading photos, writing, and staring out the window. Our long-dreamed-about trip around-the-world was coming to an end. And we wondered, what’s next?
Back in Athens
We arrived in Athens on time, and checked into the same hotel, the Acropolis View Hotel. After freshening up, we went for an evening walk around the Acropolis and to find some dinner. We said “hey” to Boss the dog, sleeping inside the closed gates of the Acropolis. We dined at “God’s”—high expectations with a name like that–and filled up on delicious risotto-stuffed tomatoes, fava, and wine.
On the morning we left, we used the last of our traveling coffee packets, and sat out on our balcony, soaking up the sun and staring at the Parthenon. It’s tenacity seemed a fitting ending to our trip, and a reminder of home for us Nashvillians.
A panorama of Athens and the Acropolis. Greece.
And then, we flew home: ATH – LHR – ORD
First, we had a taxi ride with Michael to the airport. The car windows were down and open to the sunny sea air, and the Foo Fighters, ACDC, Supertramp blared from the stereo. Everlong will forever remind me of flying through foreign streets: “…If everything could ever feel this real forever, If anything could ever be this good again…”
The four-hour British Airways flight left Athens at 1:30 p.m. BA ran out of vegetarian meals by the time they got to my seat. And because one passenger on board had a peanut allergy, no snacks with nuts were being sold and we were asked not to eat the peanut M&Ms we’d brought onboard either. BA also charged for water, payable by credit card only. And with that, British Airways officially became the least favorite of all the airlines we’d flown around the world.
It was a brief stop in London, and as we got to the gate on this dark, rainy night, we were asked some strange U.S. immigration questions before boarding the American Airlines flight. It was nine hours to ORD–plenty of time for a meal, a movie (the tearjerker, “Coco”), some reading, and some quiet time to reflect on our trip. We landed at O’Hare around 7:30 p.m., and were back at home by 9 p.m. We’d gone all the way around this big old world! It was good to be home. And yet, I’d go again in a heartbeat.
Around the world
28,000+ miles
6 countries, plus 4 more touched in transit
Our 7th (and 8th!) continent
Big planes, little planes, scenic rails, overnight trains, taxis, buses, bicycle rickshaws, remorks, tuk-tuks, small boats, big ferries, and miles of walking. From glaciers on the 8th Continent to the Great Barrier Reef, to the Taj Mahal and Angkor Wat, to Mt. Everest and the Parthenon…here’s to all the sunrises and sunsets, smiles, laughs, beautiful animals, crazy sights, tasty meals, and Nescafe along the way.
Select photos from our trip are available on Etsy.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
I can’t stop thinking about the little village of Lefkes, and the old dog who found us there. Even now, I check the weather for the village two or three times a day, wondering where the old dog is and how she’s faring in the rain, the sun, the cold nights. Has she eaten? Does she have water? Is she comfortable?
Lefkes, Paros
The village is on the Greek Island of Paros. It’s a traditional place with bright whitewashed buildings, Aegean blue shutters and doors, and narrow lanes that could be public paths or private spaces. There is an organic feel to the architecture here–like the old buildings have germinated from the hillside, squeezing in next to each other, into any empty spits of land. No two are the same shape. The village is a warren of stone paths climbing up and winding down the hillside, each lane hugged tight by these cottages. Stairs and doorsteps rise off of the lanes, varying in width from top to bottom, making wise use of their space. Trees and vines rise up out of tiny bits of open ground.
A house squeezed into the space between lanes, with a vine squeezed into a tiny spot of ground.
An Old Soul Finds Us
We arrived by bus one morning. It was pre-tourist season, on a less-traveled-to island, in a village that doesn’t get many tourists anyway. Quiet, but for the buzzing of bees and the wind in the lanes. Fresh with the scent of orange blossoms, wisteria, and the crisp air of a cool spring morning.
Lane up to the Church in Lefkes.
After admiring a peaceful cemetery that carried down the hill behind the Church of Agia Triada, I returned to the front courtyard to see that a dog had found Bryan.
She appeared ancient–black and bony, with a proud, gray face and hunchbacked hips. She allowed us to pet her, and then started walking away down the lane, stopping to look back at us with an expression that asked, “aren’t you coming?”. We followed.
“Aren’t you coming?”Bryan walking with the old dog in Lefkes.The old soul walked on without us.
Walking through Lefkes
She teetered a bit when she walked, maybe from arthritis or from some ailment that made her shaky and restless. When I stopped to take a photograph, she came back for me. We stopped at a tavern, thinking to buy her some food. The dog watched for a minute, then lurched on without us. I saw a woman make a nasty face and go out of her way in the narrow lane to avoid even brushing against the old dog. Though the tavern door was open, the shop was not serving any food. As Bryan sorted that out, I went to catch up with the dog, and to see if there were any restaurants up ahead. But the dog was gone. Not a trace.
Bells rang. Elderly people stepped out of their little houses, arm-in-arm, heading to a little church in a little lane. I returned to the tavern for Bryan. We sat there, sipping a Fanta and a Coke and talking about that old dog…her pitiful condition and the flagrant contempt we’d witnessed for the old soul. What’s wrong with people? Where’s the empathy for the old, the sick? It tainted the beauty of the place. And I felt sick that we’d given the dog nothing to eat. She was a bag of crippled bones, and we had done nothing to help.
Feeding the Soul
But within the hour, we saw the dog again, up a lane near the center of the village. Bryan ran into a shop and bought what he could find–which was a bag of pizza-flavored bagel bites. I called to the dog and she wobbled towards me. The rattle of the bagel-bites bag got her undivided attention. At first, I worried she might not have the teeth to chew them. But chew she did–crunching one after another. Two mousy cats crept a little closer on the wall where we sat, and called out to us. Of course, we fed them too. Within minutes, the bag was empty and three sets of eyes stared at us, at the bag, at our hands. The dog licked the stones for crumbs. The cats meowed and sniffed around their feet.
Bryan went down the lane to an open shop. He came back a few minutes later with a bread-plate-sized hot pepperoni pie. We tore off small, very hot bites, blew on them, and fed the old dog and the two cats, right there in the middle of Lefkes. They were gentle eaters, and patient. A few passing townspeople looked, but said nothing. We all had to flatten ourselves to the wall several times to avoid the cars on that narrow lane.
After the pie was gone, the cats retreated and the dog stared at us for a long few minutes. I offered her water. She drank from the lip of the bottle as water poured into my palm. And then she walked away, turning again to ask “aren’t you coming?”
Saying Goodbye
We walked with her to the end of town, to a place near our bus stop. I worried that she was too near the busy road, too far from where she’d found us. Could she get back to her safe place? I tried to get her to follow me down the pedestrian lanes back to the church. She turned and walked away, in the direction back to the center, where there were cars. Nothing I did got her attention, and she disappeared down the lane. I cried. Bryan said, “She knows these roads. She’s lived a long time here without you watching out for her. She’ll be ok.”
Bus stop at Lefkes on ParosCrooked marble door frames and steps in the old lanes of Lefkes.
Since we had a little time before our bus, I wandered again through the town looking again for her. And, somehow I found myself back at the church. And guess who was laying in the courtyard?
There she was–alone in the sun, washing her feet. She looked comfortable, content. I did not want to disturb her, to have her get up in greeting or to walk me back to the busy road. So I did not enter the courtyard. I stood staring at her for a few minutes–wishing for her to have food, water, love and comfort for all the days of her life.
There she was, alone in the courtyard.
If you go
So, if you go to Lefkes, look for this old lady. If you find her, give her my regards and feed her a pie. I’ve thought of her a thousand times. And I’m quite certain she is an angel in disguise.
The fields around Lefkes on ParosBird returning to a nest in Lefkes, Paros, Greece.A cat gazes down from his perch in LefkesSadly, it looks as if this poor cat’s ears have been cut off.
Finally, if you like this post, please leave a comment! You can also….
One day on Paros, we took a bus up into the heart center of the island, to the little town of Lefkes. This is the place where we ran into the thin old dog living in the hillside cemetery behind the Church Agia Triada.
I returned to Lefkes another day to feed the dog, and to wander the quiet streets. Space here is not wasted. Lanes are narrow, houses fit into small corners at odd angles, and wisteria vines grow in tiny garden plots. It is a lovely little town of whitewashed houses, stone walls and terraces, blue doors, windmills, about 500 residents, and a few dear dogs and cats.
Our trip was nearly over. I was sad, a little tired, and starting to worry about things at home. I wandered around in a river of thoughts, not one of which I could grab hold of.
Narrow lanes of Lefkes, Paros, Greece.The house between the churches. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.The windmill…Looking out from the church yard, Lefkes, Paros, Greece.The sea and the terraced fields…looking out from the church yard. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.The old soul of Lefkes. Paros, Greece.Corner house, garden and tree. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Porch pergola with woven awning. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Garage, garden, and windmill. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Looking down to the church of Lefkes. Paros, Greece.Lanes and steps. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Up the steps. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Window shutters and rocks. Greece.The old dog in the church yard. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.Old house and stone fence. Lefkes, Paros, Greece.
Thank you for reading
Select photos from Greece and other places on our around the world trip are available on Etsy.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
After a week on astoundingly beautiful Santorini, we took a ferry to a quiet island called Paros. Our friend Helen had suggested this island as a restful place to wind-down our trip…an island with typical Greek Island life and less tourists. We’d made arrangements through Himalaya Travel to stay in Naoussa, but spent much of our time in Paros in Parikia and Lefkes.
From the ferry, the village of Fira, Santorini, Greece.From the ferry, the village of Oia, Santorini, Greece.
Gypsies?
In Santorini, a group of six women sat waiting to board the ferry. Each sat on a bundle the size of a bean-bag chair. They all wore kerchiefs, layers of long skirts and aprons, and work boots that must have walked a million miles. Among them was one young girl, maybe ten years old, in jeans and a t-shirt under a jean jacket, her hair in a pony tail with stray strands. Maybe they were sisters, aunts, grandmothers, Gypsies? I was mesmerized by their rugged faces and different ways.
Someone left behind a grocery bag. The girl grabbed it and within seconds the ladies all crowded around to examine the contents. They studied each piece of trash, peering into empty chip bags. When they’d finished, they put the bag back. The young girl held her hand out, begging from another passenger–a young woman who instead of giving her money, took the girl’s hand between her own with a smile in a gesture of friendship. The girl beamed at her. A man offered the girl a piece of candy, which she took slowly while staring at him. She ran to one of the women, showing the candy and pointing to the man. The woman looked at him as she unwrapped the candy, sniffed it, and took a big bite. As she chewed, she handed the other half of the candy back to the girl, and nodded at the man.
They looked as if they could have walked out of photos taken in the 1800s in the villages of Ireland, Italy, Greece, or Russia. I lost them in the crowd getting on the ferry. Later, I saw them exiting at Naxos in the pouring rain, their bundles thrown over their shoulders like granny Santas.
Naoussa Paros Arrival
We arrived in Paros after a three-hour ferry ride. The ferry backs in to the dock, and the alarms beep as the hatch goes down and is positioned on the dock. Meanwhile, passengers gather and start their cars to exit. It was already dark, and the rain was coming down. We got a taxi, gave him the address for our hotel in Naoussa, and headed into the night.
After checking in, we stood on the dark balcony in the wind–we could hear the sea, but couldn’t see it. Our room overlooked a small beach and bay. But we wouldn’t know that until the morning.
The view from our balcony at night. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Greek Independence Day
The next day was Greek Independence Day and there was a parade. This celebration marks the end of the war in 1830, when the Greeks defeated the Ottoman Empire. Gathering at the main church in Naoussa, the children marched through the streets carrying flags. The tiniest tots were dressed in traditional Greek attire, while teens wore their school uniforms of navy blue skirts or pants and crisp white shirts.
Children parade for Greek Independence Day in Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Paros Days
We spent our days in Paros walking around the village’s narrow passageways, and traveling around the island by bus to the larger town of Parikia (where the ferry docks) and to the mountain village of Lefkes.
An octopus advertises a seafood cafe on the shores of Naoussa, Paros. Greece.A different shade of blue. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Not Tourist Season Yet
Once again, it was obvious that “the season” hadn’t begun yet. Only a few restaurants were open, and much painting was going on. Many places were closed or had limited hours, still preparing for tourist season to begin after Easter.
We became regulars at one of the only places in town open for dinner, Riatsa. Locals and the few tourists in town dined on tasty pastas, salads, and wine in their cozy kitchen.
A great little tavern/cafe for music, iced coffee, and cookies. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Table for three. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Paros Marble
Paros is an island made of marble. It is famous for its fine white marble–which today has mostly been depleted. In fact, the marble for Venus de Milo came from this island.
Buildings’ steps are often marble slabs, well-worn, repaired, and painted a hundred times over. We wandered around the old marble streets, our shoes echoing in the quiet. The narrow lanes of white, gray, beiges, blues and greens were full of tiny stairs and passageways. Plants grow in small nooks among the steps and stairs. No space is wasted.
Marble steps complete with built-in garden. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Marble steps and paths in Naoussa. Paros, Greece.Looking down a path to blue door and window. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Cactus, windmill, and cats. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Cats. Lots of cats. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Green shutters, door, and clothesline. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Green gate at the Octopus house. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.Laundry and gray doors. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Storm on Paros
One night there was a fierce storm on Paros. The wind relentlessly pummeled our room. One of the shutters came unhooked and slammed into the wall and window until Bryan ran out to secure it. The patio furniture was flipped over already. He got back inside–soaking wet–before the hail started. The rain came down in sheets for a few hours and water began seeping in under our door. We put our towels at the door and window. The lights flickered. The wind howled. Things rattled and banged. Here we were on a small island in the middle of the Aegean and Mediterranean, huddled and waiting to be blown away, or for the storm to wear itself out.
In the morning, the sun came out but the temperature was about ten degrees cooler.
The view from our room and balcony on a nice day. Naoussa, Paros. Greece.
Parikia
We saw so many quaint alleys, short doors, marble fountains, little niches opening into cave-like churches with candles burning amidst glistening gold icons, and tiny spaces for trees and vines to grow. Men painted the street-stones’ outlines, and it was necessary to hopscotch down the streets until the white wash dried.
Gray doors on a lane in Parikia. Paros, Greece.Painted streets, a small church door, and a tiny plot for a tree. Parikia, Paros. Greece.
Walking in Parikia, we found this beautiful old tree and cafe in the middle of the lane. And behind it on a canal-like bridge, was the cafe “Symposium”. We loved that tiny place for its great sandwiches, red wine, and ambiance.
A cafe under a tree at the in-between. Parikia, Paros. Greece.
Panagia Ekatontapiliani’s Leaning Trees
I went to see the Church of the 100 doors, but was more intrigued by the forest of leaning trees outside Panagia Ekatontapiliani. After wandering in the little forest, I sat in the church, watching the sparrows fly around the warm sunlit room filled with gold-painted icons, hundreds of flickering candles while worshippers kissed icons going clockwise around the room.
Leaning trees and a path. Panagia Ekatontapiliani (The Church of 100 Doors). Parikia, Paros, Greece.Leaning trees at Panagia Ekatontapiliani (or The Church of 100 Doors). Parikia, Paros, Greece.Cat waits on water fountain. Graffiti in Parikia, Paros, Greece.A modest garden. Parikia, Paros. Greece.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
We spent a week on beautiful Santorini, mainly eating, walking the narrow lanes, and staring out to sea. What a place.
A handsome tray of pastries, hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, fruit, sandwich meats/cheeses, juice, and a generous pot of coffee arrived in our room at 8 a.m. every morning. Most days, we had already been out exploring just after dawn–coming back to the room for showers and breakfast. We grazed while getting ready, and stopping to stare at the volcano sea. The rest of the days, we spent wandering the island.
The local bus is an efficient way to explore Santorini. We went north to picture-perfect Oia (said “ee-ah”) and to Perissa on the less-dramatic east side of the island. Tickets are €1.80, purchased onboard from a conductor as the bus hurtles along the cliff-top road.
An evening view on Santorini. Greece.
The Greek White and Blue and Santorini’s Volcano Architecture
It is said that the houses in Greece are painted in white lime water so that the rainwater runs down for collection. It is also because during the Ottoman rule, Greeks were not allowed to fly their white flag. In defiance, entire villages were painted the stark, bright white. Today, it is a Greek tradition–and the villages are blinding with their white paint and blue domes. Most churches have blue domes that reflect the sea and sky.
Traditional white and blue Greek Architecture on Santorini. Greece.
Here on Santorini–what is left of an ancient volcano, cliff houses are built into the caldera slopes in carved-out niches. The air-filled pumice bedrock provides insulation, keeping buildings warm in winter and cool in summer. And of course, this allows the buildings to cozy into the mountains practically all the way down to the water. It is remarkable how well the limited space is used. There is much to look at with all the small houses, tiny patios, narrow steps and alleys, private spaces behind colorful iron or picket fence gates, and quiet alcoves filled with geraniums and painted windows.
The small spaces and homes built into the mountainside. Oia, Santorini, Greece.The big church with many bells in the square by the bus station, Oia, Santorini, Greece.
Finding THAT view
We walked around the pedestrian streets of Oia, looking for that travel-poster view I used to have hanging on my bedroom wall as a teenager. So many narrow lanes and private spaces. It was hard to figure out if we were on someone’s front stoop, or simply passing through on a public passageway.
After a morning of looking for that view, we finally went into a shop to ask directions. I found a photo of “the view”. “Where is this please?” A helpful sales girl said, “go past the big church, the lane will narrow, then narrow some more. Turn left and keep going down. You’ll see.”
And see we did! We followed her directions and within minutes walking down the path, “that view” came into view. I felt like I’d walked into that poster from so many years ago. Here it sat–down the hill and out of sight from the main road in Oia. And at last, I was in front of it.
“That” travel poster view in Oia, Santorini, Greece.Walking into the view. I had to touch it to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Oia, Santorini, Greece.
The tip of Oia
Near the end of the island, we found Vitrin, a tiny place nestled in the leftover space along a ledge of a lane. Delicious crepes and an even better view! Also, they had a big friendly sheep dog who sat under the tiny tables of those who shared their crepes, one blue eye peering from beneath her shaggy fringe. Yes, of course we fed her!
At a crossroad along narrow paths near the end of the island, we saw a man picking a three-neck bouzouki and singing into the wind. It was a perfect soundtrack as we looked out over the caldera’s sea, and all the love knot ribbons and locks fluttered in the fencing.
Houses cascade down the island at the northern tip of Santorini, in Oia, Greece.A street musician plays and sings in Oia. Santorini Greece.Love knots. Oia, Santorini, Greece.
On this part of the island, there were windmills. The windmills of Greece use sails, like a tall ship, to catch the wind. At one time there were more than 70 windmills on Santorini. Considering how strong the winds are on the island, they must generate a lot of energy…and go through a lot of sail canvas!
Santorini Windmill. Greece.
We stopped for drinks in a tiny cafe and bar called Meteor. The back had a little balcony overlooking the caldera. The door was open to the sounds of the ocean below, the birds, the breeze, and the sun. Downstairs near the bathroom, I saw that the kitchen-sink window also has that gorgeous view. We sat for a little while, soaking up the moments and writing postcards.
The cafe bar, Meteor, in Oia, Santorini, Greece.
Perissa on a cold windy day
On another day, we took the bus to the black-sand beach on the far side of the island. It was a very windy and cold day. Naturally, we met a dog and spent a little time talking to him. We sat inside a restaurant with a scenic view of the black-sand beach, and experienced the slowest service I’ve seen in a long time. We had plenty of time to watch the ocean churn. Threatening waves prevented people from spending much time on the black-sand beach. It was nervous entertainment watching people attempt selfies and surf walking under such harsh conditions. Several hearty souls got knocked down by waves, and many were drenched after only a few minutes. After our two+ hour lunch, we took a brief walk around and turned into Aquarius for drinks and a break from the intense wind.
Tiny house and porch. Between Fira and Perissa, Santorini, Greece.Dog on the beach street in Perissa. The wild ocean is on the other side of the restaurant tent. Santorini, Greece.
Dust storm
The wind howled all day. Later, someone told us that the Sahara was coming. What?!? And sure enough, in the late afternoon, the skies began to turn a yellow-orange. Not a sunset orange, but a cloud of orange. Intense ochre colors that blotted and diffused the sun in an already cloudy sky. The wind was blowing in Saharan sand from Africa, blowing it all the way across the Mediterranean Sea. We walked in amazement at the strange and beautiful colors. A sunset diffused by sand from a desert more than a 1,000 miles away. The waitress at Elia’s told us that the dust will stain new white paint if it isn’t cleaned before it rains, so many people would be out tonight cleaning off the sand once the wind stops.
Fira, Santorini during a dust storm. Bryan is waving from our balcony in the bottom left of this photo. Greece.African dust storm looking north to Oia from Fira, Santorini, Greece.
We went back into Oia on our last day in Santorini. The storm left behind a layer of orange dust. And the power was out in Oia from the wind storm. Restaurants served what they could. We sat in a bar and gazed out at the view over wine and beer. What a place.
White church with bells, crosses, and a fine layer of Saharan sand dust. Oia, Santorini. Greece.A fine layer of Saharan-orange dust covers even the poles on the morning after the sandstorm. Santorini, Greece.Blue dome with Saharan sand. Oia, Santorini. Greece.Preparing for Greek Independence Day, Oia, Santorini, Greece.
Animals / Santorini
Surefooted donkeys carry concrete mix and other building supplies up and down the narrow lanes. And sometimes, they carry tourists who are nearly as big as the donkeys. Riding is not encouraged by animal welfare groups because the donkeys often work in extreme heat with no breaks and no water. And really people…please WALK!
We watched this one donkey, parked against the wall in the sun and facing the wrong way. He wanted to see the coming and going of his fellow donkeys. His ears would perk up when he heard another donkey or the wheel cart bringing things to carry. He eventually side-stepped and turned himself around so he could see the other donkeys coming towards him.
Two working donkeys. Oia, Santorini. Greece.
Food and water for the stray animals of Oia, Santorini. Greece.
Santorini Animal Welfare Association cares for the dog/cat strays on the island by spaying/neutering, vaccinating, and putting out food and water. SAWA also oversees the implementation of the “Code of Practice” for all donkeys and mules working on Santorini so that they have better health and working conditions.
Moving on
On our final day in Santorini, we wrote postcards on our balcony. Later, we saw a ferry coming in to the caldera. Tomorrow, it would be our ferry coming to take us to another Greek Island…Paros!
The ferry coming into the caldera of Santorini. Greece.Panorama of the view from Oia–looking towards Fira, Santorini. Greece.The Greek flag flies on Santorini, Greece.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
Greece was the sixth of six countries on our around-the-world trip. After all the time we spent dreaming about a long trip, we weren’t prepared–we bought our RTW flight tickets super fast, made arrangements for the first couple of countries and the group tour of India/Nepal, and the rest came together by the seat of our pants. Greece suffered the brunt of that approach. When we left Chicago, we had zero arrangements for Greece. Thanks to our friend Helen’s recommendation, Himalaya Travel in Athens arranged all our of transportation and hotels for Greece. We gave them our wishes and a few parameters and they did everything, even delivering the Blue Star ferry tickets to our Athens hotel when we arrived. After Athens, Santorini was next on our itinerary.
Ferry to Santorini
The trip to Santorini was a seven-and-a-half-hour ferry ride, 200 miles south through the Aegean Sea.
What a long, beautiful day! The ferry left Athens at 7:25 a.m. and docked in Santorini around 3:00 p.m. It was one of those days with crisp blue skies and an occasional cotton-ball cloud. A perfect day for daydreaming and reflecting. We passed Ios–the shining white buildings perched on green hills down to the sea. The ferry churned on through the deep blue water, with a cool breeze, salt spray, and a feeling like the motion should never end.
Ios as seen from the Ferry from Athens to Santorini. Greece.
At last, we passed into the opening of Santorini’s bay. White buildings perched high on the edges of the cliffs. Was this a dream? It didn’t seem real. As the ferry’s loud alarm signaled the positioning of the ferry to the dock, a crowd gathered at the boat’s garage door. No one wanted to waste a second of time here in this paradise. Amid the rush of people onto Santorini, we found a driver, piled in, and went up the island mountain also known as Thira (or Thera) to the capital of Fira.
Looking out from Fira. Santorini was created when a volcano blew apart. What remains is the collapsed caldera.
About Santorini, also known as Thira or Thera
Santorini is the remnant of a volcano. In 1600 BC Santorini exploded in what scientists say may have been one of the largest volcanic eruptions on earth. The C-shaped chain of islands is what remains. The people of Santorini have built into the hard edges, warrens of tiny homes and narrow lanes spill down the rims of the island. Our driver drove us up, up, up, stopping at a church at the crest of a hill. We were met there by the manager of the Thireas Hotel who escorted us down a hundred steps to reception and our room. Good thing he came to meet us. It would have taken us an hour to find the place amid the many little paths and patios.
We had an incredible view from our room and balcony. It was not yet sunbathing weather, in fact it was too cold and windy to sit out there for long. But we bundled up and sat staring out to sea. It’s not hard to imagine this as a caldera. It is hard to take your eyes away from the spectacle of the cliffside houses and the drop-dead gorgeous view.
At Thireas Hotel. Fira, Santorini, Greece.The view from our room. Thira, Santorini, Greece.Fira, looking north to Oia. Santorini Greece.
Pre-Season on Santorini
Our hotel recommended a lovely place called Theoni’s Kitchen for our first meal on the island. We made our way over around sundown and were the only ones there. We gorged on the delicious food–stuffed peppers, potatoes, and fava (which is similar to hummus, but Greek), wine, and a pastry dessert.
Later in the evening, we walked around the narrow streets. Santorini was not yet full of tourists. It was quiet walking through the little town’s steps and lanes. Shops weren’t open, but there was a lot of activity. Residents were cleaning, building, and painting with the traditional blue and white in preparation for the hoards of tourists coming any day now. When asked when the season began, they would say only “soon”, “tomorrow”, or “Friday”. Turns out, none of those days was it. And that was perfectly fine with us.
We found the 588 steps up from the Old Port, labeled so tortured climbers could set their expectations. Today, cable cars also make the trek up instead of the poor donkeys. But the Old Port is not used much anymore.
An evening view on Santorini. Greece.A cat at twilight. Santorini, Greece.Counting the steps from the old port up to Fira. Santorini, Greece.
Mornings in Fira, Santorini
At dawn, we walked down from our hotel, around the narrow passages and small spaces. We looked for the buildings we could see from our room and found this old church. The view of the sea was breathtaking.
A barge approaches the dock in Santorini. Greece.A bird on a cross. Fira, Santorini, Greece.Bryan looking out to sea. Santorini, Greece.
Bells ring the hours from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., the chimes echoing through the streets and mountainside. I wondered what this place was like before it became a tourist destination. I realize that it is the height of hypocrisy, but why does tourism development seem to destroy so much–often leaving none of the original way-of-life and natural charm behind?
Near the bus stop, Santorini’s street dogs look for food in the trash. Fira, Santorini, Greece.One-earred pirate dog who belonged with this shop. Anyone going through the passage with food was followed, stared at, and otherwise enticed to give pirate dog a little something to pass. Fira, Santorini, Greece.Panorama of Santorini. Greece.The ferry–looking tiny from here–coming into the caldera of Santorini. Greece.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
Greece was the last destination on our around-the-world trip. Growing up, I had three travel posters hanging in my room: green fields in Ireland, the fjords of Norway, and a drop-dead gorgeous view of blue domes over pristine white buildings on the Greek Island of Santorini. When we started our around-the-world trip planning, we tried to include places that had been on our lists for a long time like our seventh continent, the Taj Mahal, and Mt. Everest. That travel-poster view of Santorini made the cut. We were heading to Athens and the Parthenon, then some fun, sun, and relaxing on two Greek Islands before going home.
KTM – DOH – ATH
It was six hours from Kathmandu to Doha. We flew over India, Pakistan, Iran, and the Persian Gulf. Finally, we were about 30 feet from landing in Doha when the plane abruptly pulled up and turned sharply. Everyone on the plane was quiet, listening to the accelerating engines and making eye contact with timid smiles. “The wind changed direction,” the pilot told us about ten minutes later. We landed on the other end of the runway, in a dust storm.
Our Doha, Qatar layover was about four hours, so we got some food and sat watching the dust obliterate the view of the runways. It was as thick as smoke, a buff-colored cloud on the ground. Tiny particles sounded like sleet at the windows. The dust diffused the sun into a magical ochre color for hours–and then it seemed to clear. Dust swirled in little puddles on tarmacs we could now see. Planes were coming and going. When we finally left Doha, Qatar Air avoided the direct route to Greece over Saudi and Syrian airspace, instead going north over Iraq before turning left in Turkey.
Arrival in Athens
We arrived after midnight into Athens. A taxi took us along empty streets through the city to our hotel near the Acropolis. We were exhausted. The next morning, I woke up with a runny nose and low-grade fever. We were off to a slow start in Greece. I took some cold medicine we’d packed and spent the morning with a book and tissues in bed. It was a good time to do some laundry via the hotel service. After a few hours, I felt better and started moving again.
Our hotel rooftop had an amazing view of the Parthenon, sitting high on the Acropolis. We sat up there in a cool wind, wrapped in our jackets, and took in the view of this symbol we’ve seen all our lives. Amazing feeling to look at it in person, high on its hill. Later in the afternoon, we walked to the street Drakou in Plaka for dinner at a tavern called Kalamaki. Fresh hummus and a Greek Salad, with french fries and wine. Perfect.
Beautiful street in Plaka, Athens, Greece.
The Acropolis
The next day, we made our way to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon. It was about a 25-minute walk from our hotel to the Acropolis park and up. The area just around the Acropolis is filled with outdoor restaurants, street musicians, souvenir shops, and wandering tourists.
The Parthenon
Built in 447-432 BC as a temple to the patron goddess of Athens, Athena, the Parthenon was a sophisticated and precise structure for its time. It has been said that the builders accounted for and refined the design to correct for optical illusions and that the 46 Doric outer columns are proportioned to add life to the rectangular building. The four corner columns are larger and lean inward. The other columns are larger in the middle and taper slightly at the ends–to correct for the leaning one sees in straight lines. It is an architectural masterpiece. And it represents the best of Ancient Greece, Western Civilization, and Democracy.
Being born and raised Nashvillians, we are very familiar with the Parthenon. A full-scale replica of a complete Parthenon stands in Centennial Park across from Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. The temporary replica was originally built for the 1897 Tennessee Centennial Exposition, and rebuilt in sturdier concrete in the 1920s. We’ve visited our beautiful Parthenon all our lives–scrambling over the base of the building, posing for photos around the columns, feeding the swans that live in the pond, swinging in the most perfect swings, and enjoying the old trees of the park. Our alternative newspaper, the Nashville Scene, has a “You’re so Nashville if…” contest every year. My favorite response ever was, “You’re so Nashville if you think our Parthenon is better because it’s still standing.” 🙂 We FaceTimed our families so they could see the real Parthenon.
Looking out from the Acropolis to the Temple of Hephaestus. Athens, Greece.Columns at the gateway, along the entry up into the Acropolis. Athens Greece.
What Happened to the Parthenon?
Once completed in 432 BC, the Parthenon was used as a temple, a treasury, and when the Ottomans came, a mosque. On Sept 26, 1687, it was cannonballed by the Venetians. The Ottomans stored gunpowder there, so all of Athens witnessed the massive explosion that blew the roof off of the 2,000-year-old building. It was a devastating loss of ancient Greek architecture.
Since that time, well-meaning people have taken sculptures for protection and others have stolen pieces out of greed. Other people tried to rebuild with remnants. In the early 1800s, Thomas Bruce, the Earl of Elgin, got permission from the Turks to remove the Parthenon Marbles that once graced the pediments. In an on-going controversy, the Elgin Marbles are still in the British Museum.
The Parthenon. Athens Greece.Restoring the columns on the Parthenon. Athens Greece.What’s left of the Parthenon’s Eastern pediment. Athens, Greece.Crane from the Eastern side of the Parthenon. Acropolis, Athens, Greece.The Ottomans were storing gunpowder in this temple (built in 432 BC). When a Venetian cannonball hit in 1687, the Parthenon was blown apart. Parthenon, viewed from the Southeast. Athens, Greece.The Western side of the Parthenon under scaffolding. Athens, Greece.Workers standing on the Parthenon. Athens, Greece.Columns to the sky. Athens, Greece.
Restoration
Real restoration finally begin in 1975. It is a big, heavy, difficult jigsaw puzzle. Huge pieces are scattered around the grounds. To put it back together, artifacts are inventoried and models will determine appropriate placement. Work is slow. A crane inside the Parthenon places marble pieces carefully and work is done to secure them in non-obtrusive ways.
Pieces of the Parthenon. Athens, Greece.Columns waiting for placement at the Parthenon. Athens, Greece.
The Acropolis Theaters
Along the hillside of the Acropolis, there are two amphitheaters. The Theatre of Dionysus is considered to be the world’s first theatre, believed to have been built in the sixth century. The theatre seated more than 15,000 people, some in marble throne-like seating up front, and others in the grassy area up the hill. It has excellent acoustics even today. There are re-used statues and reliefs from older buildings around the stage area. We sat for a while, trying to imagine the Greek tragedies that may have played out in this space, enjoying the place, and watching the grass grow between the stage stones…as it has for centuries.
The Theatre of Dionysus, as seen from the Acropolis. Athens, Greece.Bryan resting in the cheaper seats at the Theater of Dionysus. Athens, Greece.The remains of the Theatre of Dionysus, reused sculptures from older buildings surround the ancient stage.
Also on the hillside of the Acropolis, sits the Odeon of Herodes Atticus theater. This one was built in 161 AD, destroyed in 267 AD, and left in ruins for 1,700 years before being restored in the 1950s. The theater seats about 5,000 people, and once hosted musicians under a wooden roof made from the Cedars of Lebanon. Today, the roof is gone, but it is once again a music theater.
The Odeon Of Herodes Atticus. Acropolis, Athens, Greece.
The Odeon Of Herodes Atticus sits on the side of the Acropolis, looking out over Athens, and an area called Plaka.
Boss the Dog
In the Acropolis, we met a few resident dogs. One was 16-year-old Boss. We saw him early in the day, sleeping under a tree. On our way down, a woman was feeding him and we went over to say hello. She told us that volunteers come daily to feed and care for the Acropolis dogs, including old Boss. Today, he’s so old he lays down to eat and naps most of the day. The volunteer sat brushing and cooing to him. During our time talking with them, she filled a water dish twice and he drank it all. As we were leaving, we gave her a donation for food. And she dug out a photocopied photo of Boss as a younger man, a gift for us. As I considered asking for his signature, I looked down to see him smiling up at me. Thanks Boss!
Boss. The old dog resident of the Parthenon/Acropolis. Athens, Greece.
Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…
Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted photographer and blogger living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.
