Santorini Lovin'

I made a decision. I’m postponing my Athens blog entry. I don’t have the best excuse for skipping over four days worth of blogging, but I have a few not-so-great ones that, combined, make my delay acceptable: 

1) I’m overwhelmed with 250+ photos from the city

2) Athens wore me out; I hardly got to bed before 3am on nights that often followed extremely full days of heat and legwork. Any downtime called for absolute nothingness.

3) If you’re one of the many who’s gotten on me for not blogging, note how inconsistently I’ve kept up with my posts over the years. I guarantee every trip has included at least one or two posts that say “I’m so sorry for not keeping this up” etc.  One of my best friend’s fiancé said to me the other night, “You’re a horrible blogger.” Yes, I am.

BUT, I still feel bad…which is why I’m going out of order to update you on my current travels and if you think my three excuses don’t make up for my absence, I’ll remind you it’s nearly 2:30 in the morning for me and I feel too guilty to go to sleep without posting a blog.

I’m in Santorini, one of the Greek Isles. This is it: 

I didn't take this picture, but I know females are thinking Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

I got here by a ferry ride that took a little less than 5 hours. The sunset from the boat was absolutely gorgeous. 

A quick note about the ferry ride: I was buying a cold coffee to enjoy up on deck and as I'm nodding yes for milk and sugar, I hear a voice behind me say, "Jaimie?" 

I took what felt like a few very long (but probably only about two) seconds, at first just for my name to register, but then thinking, "No way, someone knows me in Greece?!" Excited/curious/confused I turned around to be faced with a nice disappointment (as nice as those can be). He was just a guy I met at a sports bar the night before. And I only met him because another friend and I put down a bet (a whopping quarter and 60 euro cent total) on whether he was from Australia or New Zealand.

So I do my best no-nonsense walk to his table and casually ask if I can join him. It took all of 30 seconds (“where are you from?” is, 9 times out of 10, the first question among travelers) to lose my bet as I pointed to my friend across the bar and shook my head in defeat, now stuck in conversation for the next 20 or so minutes before I joined another conversation about football and he, likely feeling left out, went to bed. 

One of the only downsides of always traveling in September :(

Speaking of sports bars and football, the most football I get aside from my otherwise slow internet connection is in my sleeping shirt, so anyone who’d like to keep me posted is more than welcome (unless it's about yesterday's Cowboys win). I don’t meet a ton of Americans traveling, but Week 1 typically comes right after “Where are you from?”

Wow, huge digression. Sorry. My whole point to this “ quick note” was that the New Zealand guy found me and we talked for the better half of our boat ride. I eventually told him the real reason I went over to talk to him. He didn't seem offended. Done. 

Onto Santorini.
I arrived around 10pm last night and made it to the family-run hostel where I was sweetly greeted with a bowl of pasta and bread (so hospitable, but such a task to politely get down merely an hour after I'd already eaten) and led up to my lovely studio room complete with my own kitchen, bathroom, balcony, etc. It's amazing what something as simple as having the freedom to leave your shampoo in the shower will do for you.

My balcony

Sunrise over the Aegean this morning

I love it so far. It's beyond peaceful and relaxing. 

I went to Akrotiri beach (one of the red sand beaches on the island) today and read for hours.

Akrotiri Beach

My face is getting all freckly (still wearing sunscreen, mom, no worries) and I’ll be in desperate need of a pedicure (lack of picture for your sake) when I return, but beach life and I kind of get along great.

Freckle Face

 

From the beach I got off at a bus stop at a nearby supermarket so I could buy a few things to keep in my fridge. After checking out, I asked for directions on how to get back to my hostel (not exactly sure of where I’d gotten off). Worried I might lose my struggle-free oriented streak, I stood there for a good ten minutes listening to two cashiers and one customer speak in Greek about how I should get there. I walked out with what seemed like three different opinions. 

Not feeling confident, I started toward the bus stop through the small parking lot when the customer who’d been involved rode up to me on his motorcycle and asked if I wanted a ride.

“Um—I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle.” He waited for me to continue, naturally, with a yes or no I’m sure, but this was my only answer.

“…That’s okay. It’s safe.”

Without much of a better option, I asked a series of nervous questions (What about my bags? Where do I put my feet? Aren’t we supposed to wear helmets?) before getting on. I held on tighter than was likely comfortable for him, but made it to my hostel safely and was more than happy to continue my struggle-free navigational trip (knock on wood).

I made a small dinner and ate out on my balcony this evening. I kind of loved it.