Chapter 7

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September is shoulder season in the Greek Islands and with that in mind I thought two good things would happen. The first is that we would be able to obtain accommodation rather easily. I had done this island hopping previously and I never had any problems, other than on the party island of Ios (of which I will speak later). The second is that we would be able to get this accommodation at a reasonable rate. More than reasonable, in fact. Again, referring to my previous sojourn I fondly remember that the Greek Islands represented tremendous value as a holiday destination. This was confirmed by our cheap finds on Paros.

But this was Santorini and, importantly, this was Santorini post Euro. Everything was more expensive and if this was shoulder season I would have hated to be among the throng at its peak. We took ages to find a place, not helped by Mel's aforementioned desire to stay at a place with a pool. We were quoted up to €283, albeit for the stunning Porto Fira (really, I liked it a lot but €283 is big bikkies). Coming in at €110 was place called the Scirocco where the nice (yet somehow spooky) guy that greeted us there suggested that we were much better off buying our own supplies at the supermarket when I asked what the provisions for breakfast might be. I think he missed the point a bit. We took a look at the rooms at the Scirocco and I have to say that I was not impressed. They were clean and tidy enough, but they were not what I had expected we might settle on. On my previous visit, I stayed in a wonderful hotel near the town, dug into the cliff face of the caldera. I could not settle for the Scirocco.

What we did settle on was the Athina hotel, at €180 per night. Certainly not cheap, but this it would seem was the going rate. And Mel got her pool. Besides, the girl at reception told us that we could only have the room for one night. I could look for a cheaper place in the morning.

Finally settled, we looked out over the front of our room. The sun sets on the far side of the caldera, behind Thirasena. The caldera itself is subject to a wonderful blue haze as the sky darkens from the top down as a result of the Earth eclipsing the sun. The Dutch cruise liner we passed on the Naxos earlier that day starts to light up against the background. It has positioned itself to take in the views both of the sunset and the now glowing city of Thira, which clings to the caldera face. The clouds in the sky have two faces, dim grey on top and a vibrant red underneath.

Yes, it felt like we were on holiday. It felt like we were somewhere special.

When the sun had faded to nothing our minds turned to food and drink. For me, this meant that I was on the second leg of The Mousaka Challenge. It was no contest. The second leg of The Moussaka Challenge took place at Strogili in Thira and I can say that Appoloz on Paros left it for dead. The second leg of The Moussaka Challenge was a dry beast compared to the creamy Appoloz offering.

The service at Strogili was also rather tardy. A fellow diner - and fellow Australian, as it turned out - lost her patience, put her fingers between her lips and let out an immense whistle. Thankfully, it she did not whistle a tune or else I would have really lost it. Having obtained the attention of the wait staff, she then loudly - but politely - pointed out that she had been waiting to pay the bill for some time and it would be nice is someone took her money. Some Australians might have experienced what former Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating described as a cultural cringe, but I thought that her approach had a certain charm about it. If I could let out such a whistle, I would have done so then. But my policy on whistling curtails my wont to practice it.

I really like Thira. There is a bustle to it that borders on party-town (which I usually loathe). I believe that there are more bars in Thira than on the whole of the party island of Ios, which is saying something. But there is a greater variety of clientèle in Thira. There are honeymooners and old age pentioners on their retirement trips intermingling with travelers and hen's nights. Besides, the life I had before I met Mel contained memories of two very successful nights I had with the ladies I met in Thira. More successful than I can suitably recount on this blog. Suffice to say that even Mel perks up a little when I recount them to her.

But this evening was not going to be quite like that one. Mel and I went back to our room to gear up for our first full day on this wonderful island.

And on that day, I would do two things I promised myself I would never, ever do.