We took a bus –an experience in itself– to Oia one afternoon, at the northern tip of the island. You’ve seen Oia if you’ve ever seen a photo of one of those iconic blue-domed churches, framed against the blue water. You know, that first photograph up there. Everything in Oia is postcard perfect. The town itself felt a little more prim, the shops a little more expensive, than our beloved Fira, but the views were just as amazing. At the suggestion of our hotel manager, we trekked down 280 winding, steep stairs to Ammoudi Bay, a small fishing inlet and beach, to have lunch at one of the four little restaurants set up on the water. And the water. My god, that water. I almost fell in during lunch (because this being Europe, there was nothing in the way of a protective barrier between our table and the end of the patio), craning my head to get a better look at the schools of tiny fish swimming by and to just stare at the turquoise and cerulean goodness. Why isn’t water that color everywhere else in the world?
Ammoudi Bay was heavenly, and worth the effort to get to. The climb down was fine, expect for dodging the occasional surprise left by a passenger donkey. The hike back up was more challenging, our bellies full of grilled fish and Santorinian beer, made all the more difficult by the oppressive midday Mediterranean sun. A very sweet passing tourist (Canadian!) took approximately fifty photographs of us, even running up the stairs ahead of us and shooting down like we were in a photoshoot (I thought she was trying to steal my camera).
We had a glass of wine at a rooftop taverna overlooking the sea. I made a special pilgrimage to an English bookshop (photos of that coming soon!). We got “lost” wandering the back streets, and then shared a can of beer on the bus back to Fira, where we enjoyed yet another amazing sunset.
Later in the week, we rented a car and drove around the southern part of the island, and I have a bunch of photos to share on Friday of the black sand and red sand beaches we visited.