In the end, we settled on a two-week trip to Greece and Turkey. We would make four stops: the Greek islands of Santorini and Mykonos, then Athens and Istanbul. The beaches for her, the cities for me.
In mid-May, we flew from Boston to London, then on to Athens, where we caught a 45-minute flight to Santorini. We were exhausted by our 22-hour door-to-door trip, but Santorini was like a hit of smelling salts. As our plane banked over the Aegean Sea, our heads swiveled from side to side, our eyes wide open.
It was dusk when we arrived at our hotel in the village of Pyrgos, and the setting sun was a parfait of colors: peach, raspberry, and orange. The whitewashed cube homes set on terraces above the deep-blue sea, the riotous colors of flowers, the salty breeze, the stunning views - all made for sensory overload. Add a platter of fresh calamari and a shot of the bracing local ouzo and we couldn't have been happier. We opened the doors of our balcony for the night air and slept soundly.
With daylight, there's not a bad view on the island, and every other step we took during our three days here evoked oohs and ahs from both of us. You can be on the beach, on the road, in a restaurant, or on a donkey and have a spectacular backdrop of the sea, the mountains, the archipelago of neighboring islands, or the charming towns clinging to the hillsides.
By far the best view is from the caldera, or the volcanic cliffs. Santorini - said to be the site of the mythical city of Atlantis - is the largest island in a chain created by a huge volcanic eruption about 3,600 years ago. You can feel the presence of the volcano every where, from the black-rock beach in Kamari to the heady heights of the caldera, nearly 1,000 feet above the sea.
Santorini has an efficient bus system, and we took the bus to Kamari, with its dark pebbly beach and picturesque boardwalk lined with tavernas offering the catch of the day. When we sat on the rocks that jut into the sparkling sea, I thought, this is just what I had in mind back in Boston.
