You Say Oia, I Say Oy!

We drove from nearly to southern most point on Santorini to the northernmost point – a town perched at the top of the caldera named "Oia." No consonants were harmed in the naming of the town. In fact, we heard it pronounced by people on the Windstar three or four different ways.

The drive between Kokkin and Fria was an adventure – as was the drive from Fria north to Oia, but for different reasons.In America, driving in predicated on the rule of law. In Greece (and other Mediterranean countries like Spain and Italy) driving is predicated on an amazing amount of trust in your fellow man.

Scooters and motorcycles zip past on your left and right. Four wheel ATVs are used by tourists to get around, and cars just randomly pull around them even in the face of oncoming traffic. Buses thunder along two-way roads built for one. Cars pull into the middle of traffic to get out of shops or side roads, because forcing on-coming traffic is the only way to get into the flow. The safest place to be is in the towns along the small streets that are pedestrian, scooter, and (in Santorini) donkey-only.

My favorite is seeing the locals weaving their scooters or motorcycles in and out of traffic despite no helmet, wearing flip flops, balancing their groceries on their lap, talking on their cell phones, all while, of course, smoking. Orthopedic surgeons must stay busy. As must morgues.Don’t get me wrong – driving this way is fun and keeps you focused and mentally alert. It’s also not for everyone. All sorts of drivers put their trust in drivers who are just as reckless as they are.

North of Fria, the traffic died out, but the road became treacherous. High atop the cliffs, it wound around with a fairly sheer drop down to the lowlands on the East and Northeast part of the island. The trade off was spectacular views – although I didn’t take my eyes off the road very often.

Oia is a great town. Not just because it has plenty of easy, free parking (although that helps!). It is a white town, terraced into the steep cliffs of the caldera, for a very dramatic effect. Unfortunately we weren’t staying late enough, but apparently it has the best sunset views on an island famous for them.

(I can now see the Castle of St. Peter in Bodrum, Turkey from the stateroom windows.)

The main part of Oia is all narrow pedestrian streets/walkways, although donkeys are also used here. We found a nice place for lunch looking back toward Fria. Very dramatic views. The food was fine (I had lamb and vegetables cooked in tin foil). I’m not sure if there is a different menu price for English-speakers or what, but the restaurants are very expensive. I know it is more likely due to the cost of bringing in much of the food from the mainland, but it’s hard to eat lunch for five for less than 70 Euros, which is approximately $100. The food is fine, but NOT spectacular.

Oia is definitely worth a visit, and has the best Greek feel of the island towns we’ve visited so far.

Because of the long distance to Rhodes, the ship was departing early, so the final tender back was set for 3:50. So, we headed back to return the rental car to Mr. Tony. He was satisfied it had no visible damage (I forgot to mention to look at any new scrapes on the undercarriage of the vehicle).

Torie really wanted to ride a donkey down. I looked around and realized I was the only parent who might actually be willing to get on one of those animals, so I volunteered to ride down with her. Mrs. Iron Tourist puts up with a lot, but riding a donkey down steep stairs is not one of her bucket list items. Maddy and Julia also opted for the cable car trip down.

Torie got her wish and rode a white donkey down. Our donkey driver looked up at me on the donkey and said in broken English – "don’t be scared." Apparently it was writ large on my face.

On the way down I was relatively fine, although I learned that taking one hand off to point was not a good idea. My donkey also seemed to want to run me into the walls or poles along the way, although no actual physical contact was made. Like most donkeys I know, this one was easily led, not very interested in anything, closed-minded to different points of view, and stubborn. (Note to my Democratic friends reading this – settle down, I was talking about animals, not political symbols. Probably.)

Our donkey driver also had to take 15 donkeys down with him so there were enough at the bottom. So, it was an unusual ride of him cajoling, whistling, and otherwise flicking at the donkeys to make their way down. Our three donkeys were tied together, but these others were loosely rambling down hill. The few people walking or riding donkeys up showed fear and surprise when they saw the tidal wave of milling donkeys heading toward them pell-mell, but somehow it all worked out.

On the way down, the view back up to Fria was quite pretty, as was looking down at the boats/ships in the harbor. I got off with sore knees and a keen recognition that I’m not about to have a mid-life crisis that involves being a cowboy or anything else having to do with riding animals.

(Note to future Santorini visitors – of the three ways up/down the caldera cliffs to/from Fria, walking is the cheapest. But, there's a trade-off. Roughly 788 of the 800 stairs are covered in donkey excrement, smeared all along the long steps. I'm not sh/kidding you. But hey, do what you want.)

As we sailed out of Santorini, Carol, Maddy and I sat on deck and watched the island go by. After a point, Maddy went down to rest. After rounding the island, we could see the cliffs of the Red Beach (no sand involved), with the umbrellas awaiting another round of polyglot tourists the next day.