Oh, the beauty of this trip. We thought it couldn't get any better. After Rome and the beaches in Lindos, things couldn't possibly get more magnificent, right?! How wrong we were...
After a lazy morning of coffee at the beach cafe, blog posting and day planning, we decided to moped up to Oia, the town on north western side of Santorini that is famous for it's white houses delved into the cliffs. The trip was going to be about 15 miles and we were sure we could do it on our awesome ride. We were hot mamas, right?!
We put on our chic silver helmets that screamed "I'm a tourist! I don't belong! Beware of my driving skills!", stuffed them with toilet paper to make them stay on our heads, and began the journey. It went relatively smoothly, that is after I insisted that Mom stop pointing stuff out and turing around to talk to me and keep both hands on the wheel...good lord.
Needless to say we got completely lost since like Rhodes, this island refuses to name it's streets and hopes that you are a good enough guesser to go in the correct direction. We are not good guessers. Thankfully the round-about road we were on was beautiful and took us around the other side of the island, which we would have not otherwise seen.
We arrived at Oia and instantly were stunned at its views that reduced us to obsessive picture taking as if we would miss some vista, some white house with staggering terrace teetering off the cliff or mini stone path leading to a bright blue door. (Unfortunately, I wore a blue dress which made Mom want to put me in each shot since I matched the sky, doors, water, etc. and contrasted with the white plaster houses. Bad choice on my part.)
We had the consistently delicious Greek salad and hummus for lunch on a restaurant terrace, shaded by a canvas awning that literally hung over the water. The shops here are sensational (not touristy!) and within 15 minutes of arrival, Mom had purchased a lovely dress and we both possessed matching bracelets with the good luck symbol of Greece on their delicate chains. (We are, like, totally best-ies.)
After climbing the one pedestrian road that ran through the city we arrived at the ruins of the castle that had once stood on the climax of the cliff. We had read that this side of the island faced the famous Oia sunset and rushed to get dinner reservations at a nearby restaurant. (Definitely would be proven a good call later that evening after the tourist buses filled the small town.)
We spent time wandering through the jewelry and clothing shops and were more successful in resisting temptation than earlier that morning. We stopped for an iced frappe at cafe with yet another breathtaking terrace-- mainly an excuse to sit in the shade and watch the white sailboats pass on the shockingly blue water. Seriously, the pictures don't do it justice.
Dinner (yup, eating again...) was beer battered fried olives (are you kidding?! brilliant!) and chicken souvlaki and yogurt sauce that literally fell apart when your fork touched it, it was so tender. The restaurant faced the sunset and we sat watching the sun sink into the water as it reflected pink and orange on the white buildings. The tourists (I love how even though we are also visitors on the island, they are surely the "Other" in our minds...) sat on the castle ruins, roofs of houses and the many steps all around us and applauded when the sun finally sunk into oblivion. I must say that, though the scene was beautiful, it did not hold a candle to Bethany sunsets. Not even close. We ordered baklava while the tourists (ugh, yucky tooourists) filed out en masse and found our moped just as the last light of evening disappeared.
In keeping with our vehicle experience on the trip, as we turned on the moped we discovered that it only had one pathetic working headlight-- all the rest were irrevocably dead. This one pitiful beam barely lit 2 feet in front of us so much so that I considered strapping our iphones to the front of the moped. (Side note: Anyone who owns a rental business it seems to me that it should be your responsibility to check the battery and the headlights before renting vehicles to unsuspecting clueless women. That just seems to be good practice to me, but who knows... I'm just a simple student.) There was nothing for us to do but continue on with our plan of driving home, hopefully this time staying on the "large" road.
We started out cautiously creeping along, attempting to stay in the wake of other mopeds with effective headlights. Unfortunately they were much more confident since they were actually able to see the lane ahead of them. We wished for cars to come toward us or drive behind us so that some light would be thrown in our path, at the same time dreaded their presence since we weren't sure that they could actually see us.
I haven't yet mentioned that the "highway" we were taking back to Perissa is a two lane road (that's actually a generous claim) that wound around the island's cliffs-- sharp turns followed by U-turns followed by turns only seen in Nascar races and road lines that were barely visible even if you had accurate lighting-- basically the worst terrain for scootering, night or day. I'm not sure if we were laughing in incredulous disbelief at the situation, crying from fear or if it was the dirt being blown in our eyes, but our faces were definitely streaked with tears the whole ride, tightly clinging to the moped as we putted along at 5 miles an hour.
I was leaning to the side, willing my eyes to find signs in the pitch black (Seriously Greece. What is up with your road names and signage?!) while Mom concentrated on staying on the road. Newspaper headlines of "Two Women Flattened by Bus" lodged themselves into our minds and refused to leave. (It is good that I had 2 glasses of wine during the sunset because I'm pretty sure I would have had a total meltdown had been as sober as our fearless driver.) We shivered our way home in the absolute murkiness of the night, not having had the foresight to bring sweaters for the windy ride home, and finally found our small town. Our inevitable death by darkness, poor navigation, bus or cliff miraculously evaded. We might have peed our skirts.
A meager apartment has never been so beautiful. A salt-water shower has never felt so good. Stiff mattress and dinky sheets have never been more appreciated. Sleep has never been more refreshing.
We lived! We have conquered your obstacles! Fearless and Mighty! Watch out Santorini! We. Are. Woman!
After a lazy morning of coffee at the beach cafe, blog posting and day planning, we decided to moped up to Oia, the town on north western side of Santorini that is famous for it's white houses delved into the cliffs. The trip was going to be about 15 miles and we were sure we could do it on our awesome ride. We were hot mamas, right?!
We put on our chic silver helmets that screamed "I'm a tourist! I don't belong! Beware of my driving skills!", stuffed them with toilet paper to make them stay on our heads, and began the journey. It went relatively smoothly, that is after I insisted that Mom stop pointing stuff out and turing around to talk to me and keep both hands on the wheel...good lord.
Needless to say we got completely lost since like Rhodes, this island refuses to name it's streets and hopes that you are a good enough guesser to go in the correct direction. We are not good guessers. Thankfully the round-about road we were on was beautiful and took us around the other side of the island, which we would have not otherwise seen.
We arrived at Oia and instantly were stunned at its views that reduced us to obsessive picture taking as if we would miss some vista, some white house with staggering terrace teetering off the cliff or mini stone path leading to a bright blue door. (Unfortunately, I wore a blue dress which made Mom want to put me in each shot since I matched the sky, doors, water, etc. and contrasted with the white plaster houses. Bad choice on my part.)
We had the consistently delicious Greek salad and hummus for lunch on a restaurant terrace, shaded by a canvas awning that literally hung over the water. The shops here are sensational (not touristy!) and within 15 minutes of arrival, Mom had purchased a lovely dress and we both possessed matching bracelets with the good luck symbol of Greece on their delicate chains. (We are, like, totally best-ies.)
After climbing the one pedestrian road that ran through the city we arrived at the ruins of the castle that had once stood on the climax of the cliff. We had read that this side of the island faced the famous Oia sunset and rushed to get dinner reservations at a nearby restaurant. (Definitely would be proven a good call later that evening after the tourist buses filled the small town.)
We spent time wandering through the jewelry and clothing shops and were more successful in resisting temptation than earlier that morning. We stopped for an iced frappe at cafe with yet another breathtaking terrace-- mainly an excuse to sit in the shade and watch the white sailboats pass on the shockingly blue water. Seriously, the pictures don't do it justice.
Dinner (yup, eating again...) was beer battered fried olives (are you kidding?! brilliant!) and chicken souvlaki and yogurt sauce that literally fell apart when your fork touched it, it was so tender. The restaurant faced the sunset and we sat watching the sun sink into the water as it reflected pink and orange on the white buildings. The tourists (I love how even though we are also visitors on the island, they are surely the "Other" in our minds...) sat on the castle ruins, roofs of houses and the many steps all around us and applauded when the sun finally sunk into oblivion. I must say that, though the scene was beautiful, it did not hold a candle to Bethany sunsets. Not even close. We ordered baklava while the tourists (ugh, yucky tooourists) filed out en masse and found our moped just as the last light of evening disappeared.
In keeping with our vehicle experience on the trip, as we turned on the moped we discovered that it only had one pathetic working headlight-- all the rest were irrevocably dead. This one pitiful beam barely lit 2 feet in front of us so much so that I considered strapping our iphones to the front of the moped. (Side note: Anyone who owns a rental business it seems to me that it should be your responsibility to check the battery and the headlights before renting vehicles to unsuspecting clueless women. That just seems to be good practice to me, but who knows... I'm just a simple student.) There was nothing for us to do but continue on with our plan of driving home, hopefully this time staying on the "large" road.
We started out cautiously creeping along, attempting to stay in the wake of other mopeds with effective headlights. Unfortunately they were much more confident since they were actually able to see the lane ahead of them. We wished for cars to come toward us or drive behind us so that some light would be thrown in our path, at the same time dreaded their presence since we weren't sure that they could actually see us.
I haven't yet mentioned that the "highway" we were taking back to Perissa is a two lane road (that's actually a generous claim) that wound around the island's cliffs-- sharp turns followed by U-turns followed by turns only seen in Nascar races and road lines that were barely visible even if you had accurate lighting-- basically the worst terrain for scootering, night or day. I'm not sure if we were laughing in incredulous disbelief at the situation, crying from fear or if it was the dirt being blown in our eyes, but our faces were definitely streaked with tears the whole ride, tightly clinging to the moped as we putted along at 5 miles an hour.
I was leaning to the side, willing my eyes to find signs in the pitch black (Seriously Greece. What is up with your road names and signage?!) while Mom concentrated on staying on the road. Newspaper headlines of "Two Women Flattened by Bus" lodged themselves into our minds and refused to leave. (It is good that I had 2 glasses of wine during the sunset because I'm pretty sure I would have had a total meltdown had been as sober as our fearless driver.) We shivered our way home in the absolute murkiness of the night, not having had the foresight to bring sweaters for the windy ride home, and finally found our small town. Our inevitable death by darkness, poor navigation, bus or cliff miraculously evaded. We might have peed our skirts.
A meager apartment has never been so beautiful. A salt-water shower has never felt so good. Stiff mattress and dinky sheets have never been more appreciated. Sleep has never been more refreshing.
We lived! We have conquered your obstacles! Fearless and Mighty! Watch out Santorini! We. Are. Woman!