From Moonshine to Sunshine: 6/9: Beaches Ain't Nothin' But Rocks & "Sticks"

June 9th began with another wonderful terrace breakfast to fuel up for the day. We shortly mounted up and took the Road Warrior on a scenic drive along the outer perimeter of Santorini's coastline--the one with a more gradual slope into the surf, as opposed to the sharp cliffs of the caldera side.

We traced my running route to Paradeisos Beach, then turned right to seek out two other beaches on the island's northern half: Koloumbos & Vourvoulos. The sky was mildly overcast, but we only had plans to explore for the morning rather than sunbathe.

We passed vineyard fields and other unidentifiable crops, as well as small groupings of houses and windmills. Many homes were in the cylindrical windmill shape and 3-4 stories tall, but without the actual wheel attached. I recalled reading somewhere (too many travel guides and websites to keep straight) that an edict on the island forbade new structures over two stories tall UNLESS it was in a windmill shape. Go figure.

Pictured: Don Quixote's worst nightmare

We passed a sign for Koloumbos, but never saw a beach or discernible path to the water, so we kept on driving. The way to Vourvoulos Beach was clearly marked; we had to descend 2km from the main road to get to the parking area.

At that hour and due to the overcast skies, the beach was all but deserted. One couple lay by the water's edge, and soft Greek music floated from the one beachside taverna. It wasn't the prettiest beach in the world (all rocks and unremarkable cliffs), but if it's solitude you crave then this is a good one for you.

Pictured: Nihilist's Paradise

We parked and decided to walk the coastline a ways because I spied some mysterious looking doors embedded in the cliffs. They looked like the cave houses found all over the island, but these were more bizarre because they were so inconveniently located.

Though the doors all looked really weather-worn and intriguing, I was disappointed when I was finally able to peer into one that had holes. It was a cave house in structure, but only went back maybe 12 feet and was basically a storage shed--for local fishermen, we surmised. The one I saw had just a couple ladders, buckets, and water bottles in it. No trolls, treasure chests, or damsels in distress.

Pictured: My expectations of a sealed-in corpse á la "The Cask of Amontillado" were disappointed.

We got back to the ATV--the hog, excuse me--and returned to Oia. There was a small jewelry store near our lodging called Maria Baba's, and we swung in there for Annie to browse. She had expectations of finding a small gold cross to wear as a sentimental memento of our honeymoon here. The other stores we'd tried thus far had jewelry far too big (as is somewhat typical of the Hellenic and Byzantine styles), and Annie passed on those because a heavy necklace gives her migraines. She found a few small ones at Maria Baba's, and we selected a lovely handmade one with beading on it. It seemed all the more appropriate when we were told that the jewelers were from northern Greece in the village of Tríkkala, because my grandparents on my mother's side are from that same tiny village!

We paid for the cross, locked it in our room safe, then ventured out again to meet Frederika, the wood painter. We had arranged a meeting with her through Tony's recommendation, because Annie and I wanted to look at some of her ship paintings done on driftwood and reclaimed lumber.

Frederika picked us up in her Micro Machine of a car and drove us to her studio/home in nearby Finikia. She had created for herself a miniature shire: a flower-lined path led to her roof, where a doorway descended into her cave house, surrounded on the outside by a huge garden of trees, shrubs, and flowers that she planted herself.

Annie and I marveled at her studio. It was aromatic with the fresh-picked lavender that grew outside her door, and her wonderful artwork lined the walls.

Annie was mesmerized by something we hadn't yet encountered: large pumice rocks chiseled and painted to resemble village scenes of the island. They were amazing, but, being large rocks, they weighed and cost a ton.

Above: The most expensive rock on the island.

We selected a painting of a beautiful ship at sea, painted on a curved piece of wood that came from an aged barrel head. While Frederika wrapped the piece for transport, we gawked at her artwork and the little slice of heaven that she had created for herself here in Finikia. It was a magical place!

After Frederika returned us to Oia and we said our goodbyes, we placed the artwork in our room and lathered up for another beach adventure. The sun had burned away the morning's overcast, so our plan was to do a cheap lunch in Fira and then find a better beach to lounge upon than the one we discovered this morning.

We were famished upon our arrival in Fira, and found a narrow dive that sold 2€ gyros and 2€ draft beer. That converts roughly to a $12 lunch, if anyone's curious.

With strength restored, we descended away from Fira back towards the beach areas, and I pulled off at the sign for Koloumbos where a couple other vehicles were parked. We walked around the roadside shrubs until finding the single track path leading into a gulley. Koloumbos was highly recommended by a travel guide and Frederika, so we hoped for a cool locale. When the 800m path finally opened onto the beach, we weren't disappointed--by the topography, that is. The beach was narrow and only slightly rocky, with interesting cliffs behind it and a rock promontory jutting out into the sea.

The only aspect that detracted from the scene was the sight of several naked asses...and other pale body parts. We had to hike past a few couples and solo dudes to score a more private stretch of real estate, and I was lamenting my lack of blinders.

All was well once we got settled. The cliffs behind us offered welcome shade in the mid-afternoon heat, and we drowsed until the early hints of hunger stirred us. We followed the narrow path back to our hog, and drove toward Oia as the sun sank near the horizon. With my new bride's sun-kissed arms wrapped around me and my thumb on the hog's accelerator, I couldn't help but hum some Bon Jovi in my head as we neared the Oia cliffs at sunset. "I'm a cowboy, on the steel horse I ride..."

Above: Cool AND Tough. Helmets only enhance the rebelliousness.

It was another gorgeous sunset that we watched from a perch just above Ammoudi Bay. At dusk, we drove down to the Ammoudi parking area and dined at Katina's fish taverna, where we ate Greek salad, grilled mussels, and fried calamari. We were seated right near the outdoor grill, and as we watched the grillmaster prepare and cook the various dishes we tried to count the multitude of health code violations that would be punished in America. The cook used the same plate for raw and cooked fish, only rinsed his hands occasionally with sea water, and allowed his kids to play within spit's-reach of the food. At other fish tavernas we'd seen the cooks drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Hilarious, the cultural differences, yes?