Finally, I reached the Greek Island of Santorini (Thera of ancient times) and stayed for several days. There was a simple, although more vigorous way to reach the top of the cliffs. So rather than the expense of hiring a donkey, I managed the plain old foot-path way and the view as I climbed higher and higher was well worth the effort.
As seen from the ships that pass the island, the buildings seemed carved from a huge white marble slab. On closer examination, they are of concrete whitewashed annually and rounded, without a squared line anywhere in sight. Absolutely beautiful with lush greenery and brilliant flowers, like jewels here and there. Once you have meandered out of the business district and hostels, the houses are dotted here and there with farming evident. Other than tourism, these resident families generally depend on income from the men who are employed by the Greek ship building industry.
It's been years since I was on the island. I see from current brochures that it has built a more posh tourist business, so I probably would not want to go back. I loved the fact, while there, that it had just a small town atmosphere with friendly people. I should clarify 'friendly' with this next tale of one evening with a group of fellow backpackers and a local young Greek gentleman willing to show us a bit of their culture. We were escorted to a small family-cafe inland and enjoyed a fine Greek dinner followed by a small group of musicians playing Greek music.
Suddenly, a young couple began dancing (I was told brother and sister since they still followed the custom of single women not allowed to be seen with a single man). When they left the dancing and returned to their seats, some people began throwing clean plates that broke into pieces, with much noise and applause. I got so excited. I didn't have a plate to throw, so I threw my wine glass. As it broke among the plates scattered across the floor, the applause and music stopped. It was evident what I had done was not a bit appreciated by anyone in the room.
Immediately, our Greek gentleman quickly pulled me into the kitchen and my friends scooted out the front door. The music began once again, only this time chairs were crashing to the floor and a fist fight had begun in the dining room among the broken dishes and my broken glass. The owners, a middle aged couple, blocked the kitchen door to the dining room and tried to cheer me up saying everything would be alright, that they knew I didn't know their custom (according to my interpreter).
The four of us began doing a Greek dance around the kitchen to the music and clamor in the next room before my Greek friend whisked me out the back door, onto his motorcycle and safely returned me to my hostel. It turns out, the plate throwing is only done by a tribe to compliment their own. If anyone outside of that tribe throws a plate (never a glass) it is a reason to start a fight, which they enjoy. That's why this custom was outlawed throughout Greece and only shown as an 'old custom' to entertain tourists at big hotels in the city. This was an island and they had their own rules.
Aw, but wonderful experiences were there for me on Thera. I was allowed a private tour of an ancient city, once buried in ash and carefully being excavated, to watch how gently ash is brushed from old relics, cobble-stone streets, wall murals. The volcano eruption of years ago that buried Pompii also broke Thera into two pieces, the smaller the shape of a crescent moon and what is now Santorini. The Greeks believe they have uncovered 'The City of Atlantis' and the major findings have now been placed in the Greek Museum of History.
As noted in earlier posts, I mostly wear sandals if it's not wise to go barefoot. I went hiking with my two room mates on a sunny afternoon far above the city being uncovered. We decided to go down what looked to be the easiest route, down over volcanic ash. Bad decision. Halfway down the slope I was slipping and sliding in sandals with sharp stickers in my bare skin. I could go no further.
One friend, a young sturdy woman who taught skiing in Switzerland, just put me on her back and carried me down the rest of the way. Amazing strength, I felt she'd just saved my life. The next day was her birthday. I decided to treat her to breakfast at a little cafe nearby where later in the day Greek men congregated to play games and commiserate no doubt. By now, the cafe owner knew who we were and when I told him it was her birthday he brought us glasses of Cognac at 8:am in the morning. Talk about amazing!
It was time to return to Athens, as the weather was getting much cooler. I had borrowed jackets and sweaters from friends and they too were heading to their homes in other countries. I shall always remember Thera and it was a topic of conversation with the Greek Ambassador's wife while in Kuwait as a newspaper reporter during the 1990's. I will relate the completion of my backpacking trip to Europe in another post, and believe me, there are more surprises in my 'escape' from Greece to Rome to New York and finally Los Angeles and home.
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