Oia

I dragged myself out of my sick chamber around midday and headed to Oia on the town bus. 1,60€ for the trip around the narrow cliff hugging road to the northern tip of the Island was worth every cent - it is more beautiful than Fira by far, even if it had a slightly higher tourist per square metre ratio. 

Like Fira, Oia tumbles down a cliff face in the obligatory white and blue. I read somewhere that this tradition started when during a time of occupation the Greeks were forbidden from flying the national flag. 'Screw them' they said, and painted their houses in the colours of the flag. Seems very Greek to me (patriotic, stubborn and with a touch of cheeky humour). I had to wonder if the pink or yellow houses were rogue owned.

The streets are cobbled and uneven and the steps are just crazy. A colleague from work told me she was amazed that in Australia we cotton wool anyone over 60 for fear of heart attack or stroke yet in places like Santorini people much older than that get up and down these stairs like nanny goats. I saw a bit of that happening today, and did a bit of it myself.

(The stairs down to the port)

There are more blue domed churches here. Sorry for the repetition but I can't get enough of them!

There is also a windmill, right up on the northernmost tip of the island. 

I really can't get over the beauty of this place. I've seen locals out sweeping up leaves and dust, and wiping the balustrades down with a damp cloth. Even the bus driver stopped quickly today to move a fallen rock off the road. You do come across bits and pieces of land or buildings that need some work but the dazzling whiteness of the rest of it distracts your gaze from those areas.

I stopped at a cafe for a frappe. It seemed like the thing to do. 3€ for this view for an hour!

(P.S. before you freak out I am not smoking again)

And then an hour or so later I stopped for lunch in this taverna. It had this view...

(I took that seated at my table with no zoom)

And this was my lunch - thick cool garlic infused tzatziki, warm soft lemony dolmades, tomato and cucumber salad sprinkled with oregano and drizzled with olive oil, big chunks of fresh bread and a mythos beer.

Finally, smelling of garlic and a bit sniffly and tired I caught the bus back to Fira. The woman who sat next to me, a local, picked her nose all the way. I giggled at the boys behind me who had a very heated conversation in greek, which sounded like this to me "greekword greekword greekword greekword malaka. (Laugh). Greekword greekword malaka greekword greekword greekword malaka". The good news is that all the words I learned in primary school are coming back to me, but the bad news is that they are all ones I'd never say in polite company.

Time for a cup of tea before heading up to the Caldera to watch my last Santorini sunset. Tomorrow I head to Naxos to swim and eat fish.