Santorini

Last summer, our public relations manager, Cerianne Ingersoll, traveled to several countries in the Mediterranean with her family. This account is from her experience on the Greek island, Santorini.


Imagine standing on the deck of a ship, in the middle of the ocean, on a day so hot, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. You find yourself sitting in the cone of a volcano, looking out onto the ocean and spot what appears to be a snowcapped island in the distance. A small glistening city built into the cliff side comes into view as you sail in closer. You only think one word: Breathtaking. Welcome to Santorini.

The image in your head right now is what I came upon when we were pulling into the port of the small Greek island. The port is so small that our ship was forced to dock a couple of miles away. Then, we "tendered" or "water taxied" onto the island and embarked on our adventure. Our tour started on the streets of a local village, with the houses, to save space, built upwards rather than out. As we walked along, some of the people in my group, to my amazement, began venturing into some of these quaint and starkly white-painted houses with petite blue doors. Yet, strangely enough, it didn't seem to bother those who lived there all that much. Perhaps they are used to nosey tourists. We soon left the village and continued our tour at one of the local black sand beaches.
After a long day of walking on what felt like the surface of the sun, seeing the ocean was like finding the Land of Oz. Without much thought, I ran out onto the black sand. I pranced around like an idiot as the dark sand burnt holes through my feet. Since I didn't have a towel with me I ended up having to book it to the water. But that wasn't the best choice either. Huge slabs of slick limestone lay just beneath the water's surface. I slipped and made a delightful thud into the water. It was definitely attractive and elegant. It was impossible to stand steadily, forcing me to swim out far enough to where I could just tread water. At least it was clear, and I was cooling off. Floating on my back and looking up into the blue sky, I felt like I was way out in the middle of nowhere. It was a place of peace and serenity, where nothing could harm me.

The island only became more interesting when we went back into the main village, which is built just alongside the cliff. I wandered down the narrow cobble stone streets and browsed around the shops. The shopkeepers of Santorini are obviously not afraid of interacting with tourists. They had no problem grabbing my wrist and referring to me as their "good friend." All I kept thinking was "If someone in Los Angeles were to do this, they would get slapped for being so forward." Unlike people I have met in other countries, including the U.S., Greeks did not get irritated by my presence and were always so generous. I asked one shopkeeper where I could get some coffee, and he automatically sent a boy in his store out to buy me a coffee "from the best shop in town." He said even if I weren't to purchase anything in his store he wanted to me to have a good experience.

When it was time to leave the island I had to decide whether I'd take the hanging gondola down the mountain or a donkey. I chose the latter of the two, just so I could say I did it. I soon realized that was a mistake as I began my descent down the side of the steep cobblestone lined mountain, on the back of the donkey. First, it led me to the side of a wall, dragging my leg along the jagged cement, then we crossed over some cacti, all the while trotting and subsequently slipping on the sheer walkway. An American man on a donkey tied to mine, began yelling at our Greek guide in Spanish. "Senor, mas despacio!" Yeah, if they don't speak English, they must understand Spanish. In the midst of his display of ignorance, I found it quite amusing and relatable. I have experienced the feeling of America's isolation from other countries and people before, but it was not until I was placed in a threatening situation that I felt it with such great force. I realized I had no control over the situation by not being able to speak their language. Everything was suddenly outside of my comfort zone and I was forced to trust them with my life. Winding up with two bleeding ankles and palms by the time I reached the bottom was not what I had originally intended. I looked as though I had been crucified. I leapt off the donkey, kissed the ground, and ran straight for my mom in utter fear. I'm never doing that again. Facing death once is enough for me.
Besides thinking about the traitorous ride down the mountainside, while taking the water taxi back to the ship, I recapped the day and thought about how much I really enjoyed experiencing the culture of the Greeks on this small island. The lives of the Greeks seemed so much more laid back than the lives people lead here in the U.S. They were not going out of their way to impress others with wealth and material objects, but rather cherish the lifestyle and friends that they had. Overall, people just need to take a second to stop and realize how beautiful the world can be.

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