First of all, before I start the story of the leisurely two-hour stroll that turned into the walk from, if not hell, than at least the entrance of hell - be sure to stop a moment and admire my awesome new haircut!
The woman who cuts my hair, Joey, is a magicworker and I love her.
Anyway.
After our awesome donkeywalk the morning of June 14, 2004 (yes - almost 2 years ago! :-( ) we thought we would take a walk from Fira to Ia, a town on the nothwest end of the island of Santorini known for its beauty, especially the beauty of the sunset as viewed from their lovely pathways.
Frommer's told us to allow at least 2 hours for the walk; we started out about 5 hours before sunset, thinking we would take it easy and stop in some of the little towns we were sure would be along the way. We even brought a bottle of wine and some olives to share when we felt like taking a break, sometime a little further down the road towards Ia.
For your reference during this post, here's a map.
Ia/Oia is on the north end of the island, where the island curls around and ends - it's on the side towards the center of the island. Fira (or Thira) is on the inside of the island as well - if you follow the line along the inside south from Ia, it's a little past that boat icon just south of Skaros. (If you click on the map, it will take you to the Flickr page where I have the two towns marked with little boxes.)
About 6 miles, according to Frommer's - that is, if you don't get lost...
The walk started out really promisingly. We left Fira and headed towards the towns just to the north - there's barely any room between them, it's really just a stretch of houses and shops and hotels and guesthouses. All lovely.
We met a cat, who was avoiding the heat of the sun.
Who's a pretty guy? Awww.
Firostephani and Imerovigli, the next two towns, were somehow much quieter than Fira. I think it would be a good idea to stay there if you're wanting to be a little further away from the bustling hordes of Fira - somehow, less than a half-mile made a really big difference.
Plus, they were just stunning towns.
I feel like this picture looks like we stole it from some tourist brochure - but I swear we didn't. Just another shockingly stunningly beautiful home.
It didn't take long for us to gather a posse for our trip.
This dog kept us company for a little while. He'd bound around us, then take off for a few mintues, then show back up again. Tragically (in his mind, I'm sure), we didn't have any food suitable for doggies on us - so he finally gave up and trotted back towards town just as the buildings started to get fewer and farther between.
Husbear insisted on photographing this stairway to nowhere - I think it turned out pretty cool.
I've heard that the blue and white of the Greek flag were chosen at least to partly symbolize the colors of the sky and sea of Greece.
The path was pretty well marked, at least at the outset. It was paved with flagstones, and had a low wall along the side with the steep drop. Very nice.
We took a picture of the path we were following.
You can see the path snaking along the clifftop - but you can't see Ia yet. It's still off to the left.
Somehow, even seeing this view, we didn't realize that we still must have been hours away.
Actually, really stupidly, we decided that there's no time like the present to find a shady spot, sit, and have our wine and olives!
We found a lovely little church, and nearby there was a hill with a view of the road and the other side of the island. We had a lovely break; sitting, having a little wine, watching the occasional car go by, chatting about how crazy it was that we were sitting on an actual real Greek island, seeing the changing light as the sun started to set...
Oh crap! The sun!
We started off again - and this is where I started to realize that we might have a small problem.
Yes, that's the sun starting to go out of view behind the cliffs. But you can see Ia - that kind of white blotch near the end of the island.
We were high bove the road, but even if we had been close to it, we didn't know where the buses stopped to take us along to Ia - so we just started walking faster.
Trust me, had I known the walk would be this rugged, I wouldn't have worn a skirt and brought my tiny purse. This picture, though, cracks me up now - I look like I'm thinking "My lawd, what-EVah shall I do? I sure could use a mo-jito!"
As we climbed further up into the hills, I started to wonder if we were going the right direction. We hadn't seen any signs pointing to Ia recently...
Husbear found these little rock piles, and pointed to them as evidence that others had been here before us. I felt it was much more likely that they were rescue beacons placed by stranded hikers, or perhaps markers to remember unfortunate souls who hadn't made it to Ia for the sunset..
I think Husbear might have been getting... let's say tired of my negativity at this point. Heh. There may or may not have been words exchanged.
We kept pushing on, though. At one point, it became clear that we were walking right up the path leading up to some guy's house; we had to climb a fence to get off his property and back onto the trail.
It might be time for new signs on this portion of the path, yes?
Finally, we reached the last hill between us and Ia. We crested the top of the hill, and I can't tell you just how relieved I was to see the lights of the town before us.
The only problem remaining was how we were supposed to clamber down the hill with limited light on an unpaved rocky path.
Somehow, we managed not to break/twist/sprain anything, which was exciting.
We had made it to Ia! Hours too late to see the sunset, and also too late to actually enjoy the picturesque charms of the town... but we made it, and that's the important thing.
Wow, was I happy to be in Ia.
That grin on my face is less jesting at the expense of that wonderful fish, and more just being thrilled to be back in a town. That fish is pretty neat, isn't it?
I feel like I look fairly well put together, considering the hike we had just taken... until you check out my feet, which were so filthy and dusty I kept trying to hide them under my skirt. This doesn't work when your skirt ends at mid-calf.
We stopped at a restaurant which was supposed to have a good view of the caldera, but it was too dark to really be able to enjoy it. We ordered a bunch of food and fell to. Cats twined around our table, hoping for scraps.
I felt such a sense of accomplishment after that walk, though. Everyone we mentioned the trek to later on said "Wow - that's a really long way to go on foot!" and I just nodded, like it had been a breeze, and said "I know - and it was wonderful."
The thing is - it really was. Husbear and I had a wonderful time, for the most part, and he still makes me laugh when he reminds me of that time on Santorini where I told him off on the side of a mountain.
girlie
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