DAY 14

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I do this blog each morning from an internet store. On the way back to my cave yesterday morning, I had a stimulating experience. No, not one involving a lady. I heard music. The Three Tenors. Bellowing out from an art gallery store front. The name of the art gallery: Opera Art Gallery.

I went in. The artist/owner was doing his morning clean up. He spoke no English, I no Greek. However we still communicated. He had a bucket of water bottles sitting in ice. He offered me one and a comfortable chair. I sat and listened as he worked. I looked at his work. Top shelf. Oils of the Santinori landscape. Unfortunately, my art buying years are behind me or I would have purchased one.

One of my Greek coffeee drinking friends corrected me yesterday. I have some of them reading my blog every day. Even those who did not know what a blog was.

He said I was incoorect in how I portrayed the Greek women who dress all in black. I stated they were most likely widows. They can be, he told me, but not necessarily so.

Greek women as they age have the option of deciding when to go to all black attire. It is a distiction. a recognition. She has reached a particular state in life entitling her to additional respect.

Correction made.

I drove to another beach yesterday. Karami Beach. Again, the other side of the island. Again, I got lost as I did the day before. Eventually by merely fololowing instinct, I found it.

The drive was not without its rewards. There is so much to see on Santorini.

I am living in a cave. A remodeled rehabilitated one. Probably since the volcano oif 3,500 years ago, it was merely a hole in the cliff wall. Now a beautiful apartment.

I saw many caves on the drive. Old fashioned real ones. Holes in the face of cliffs and rocks. One to three at a time. Large openings. A person could walk in. All appeared deep and dark.

There is a No Name restaurant in Karami. Just like No Name Pub in the Keys. A steak house. I smiled as I drove by.

I reached Kamari Beach. Big! Long!

Kamari Beach is located on the north shore of the island. The water from the north is rough and cold. It was both.

Black sand. Soft and rocky at the same time. So soft your feet sink in six inches with every step. The water black also. From the lava sitting at the bottom for thousands of years.

I rented a chair and umbrella. Chairs and umbrellas in Europe are all in a straight line.

I looked to my left. I looked to my right. I looked in front of me. I looked behind me. No topless or otherweise bare women. The place was a family beach.

I have come to the conclusion that nude beaches are a tourist deception so people will travel to the beaches.

Nature itself was eye opening and lovely enough. To my left was a huge cliff. Maybe 1,500 feet high. Young men were diving from its rocks. Thirty to fifty feet up. To the oohs and ahhs of the young ladies below.

About a half hour after I arrived, a woman took the beach chair and umbrella next to me. About five feet away. 50ish and attractive. She immediately removed her top. Success! My quest had been rewarded.

As she lay there, she knew I was sneaking an occasional peek.

I went to get up off my lounge to swim. I fell. Like a first class ass! Tumbled over. Me and the lounge.

My topless neighbor came running over to help. What happened? Are you hurt? Just old age, I told her. I could not get up. Could not get my balance. She helped. Said take my elbow. We locked elbows together and she lifted me. With her boobs slapping me in the face! I had succeeded beyond my wildest dreams!

We became friends. Talked most of the afternoon. Lunched together at a beach bar. She is the owner of a ladies dress shop in nearby Messeria.
She agreed with me that Greek women’s apparel was outstanding.

We shared a grilled calamari. Note grilled as opposed to fried. It was about ten inches long and two wide. Four more inches of small tentacles at one end. Rubbed in olive oil. Absolutely delicious! Tender. Literally melted in your mouth. Unusual for a large squid tentacle.

Lunch was the end of my experience with the one bare breasted woman seen by me in Santorini. Sadly. she had other plans for the evening. I have neither cell phone nor whatever so we could communicate. I gave her my email and told her to contact me if she would enjoy dinner some evening. I had one condition, however. She had to drive to Oia to me. No way could I or would I drive those narrow winding raods in the evening.

The proviso may be a killer. It’s a one hour drive. Each way. No one, including me, is worth that effort.

Dinner last night at a small taverna in Oia. A light meal. Some cheese, wine leaves and black olives. All buried in olive oil. Followd by an early bed time. The sun had knocked me out.

A common sight are clothes hanging outside on a clothes line. There are no dryers on Santorini. The sun and wind do it. You can see clothes hanging everywhere.

Santorini is much like Key West in many respects. There may be two lovely renovated buildings and then a dispidated one. Two buildingsd from where I am living is one of those buildings awaiting purchase and repair some day. The inhabitants hang their washed clothes each day on two clothes lines a mere fifty feet from my eyes and every one elses. On the drive to Kamari Beach along the north shore, I saw many lovely homes. Large. Beautiful grounds. Walled properties. And sitting on the front porch clotheslines of wash.

There is no OSHA on Santorini. Workers work at their risk. A couple of buildings away from my cave on the other side of the wash is a building under repair. Two workmen. It will take 2-3 years to complete the renovations. The scaffolding wood and leaning. No hard hats or googles. One wearing sneaks, the other sandals.

Fari is the capital of Santorini. I can see it from where I sit on my terrace. It has the only harbor/docking area on Santorini. Four cruise ships a day come in and drop passengers off to tour Santorini for the day. Just as in Key West.

With one significant differnce. The cruise ships do not tie up to a dock or the island itself. They are out in the water and boat the passengers in and back. Called transboarding here. Transporting in Key West.

The bottom line. Why should Key West spend millions of dollars for a study and then enlarging of its harbor so the cruise ships can tie up? As I understand, most European ports motor the passengers in and out. Why shouyld Key West be any different? Especially for the type of one day vistors the cruise ships bring in. I call them polyesters. They buy only tee shirts and beer. Do not eat in our restaurants. Lets use some of those millions to attract a better quality boat passenger who might spend at a dress shop and eat at our terrific restaurants.

Santorini has no tee shirt shops as such. Tee shirts are sold but as part of an overall offering of shorts, belts, hats, bags, jewelry and the like.

My plan for today was to get a fish pedicure.

About three months ago, I read that there was a new way of obtaining pedicures. Place your feet in a pool of water and have little fish suck off the dead skin on one’s feet. The process excited me. I love pedicures. Santorini has a place that specializes in the fish ones. I stopped in last night to see. A large beautiful room. Lovely chairs. Transparent buckets loaded with tiny fish.

I figured I would get a fish manicure today. Before starting today’s blog, I googled fish pedicure. Glad I did! Procedure not healthy. Banned in California and Florida. Infections can result. Are resulting. Even a strep type infection.

Tomorrow a definite, however. I climb the volcano and look into its mouth!

When I arrived, I expected to stay on Santorini only a few days. However I like it so, I have overstayed several days. Time to move on. Sadly. More to discover. Mykinos tuesday!

Enjoy your day!

DAY 13

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Breakfast is simple.

Whatever time I roll out of bed, I throw on a tee shirt and pair of shorts. Then up fifty tortious steps. There is a small bakery a few feet away. All goods baked fresh a few hours earlier in the dead of night.

A little old lady runs the place. Works it. Dressed all in black. A widow, I assume. White hair.

I try to engage her in conversation. She ignores me.

Each morning, I purchase three different baked goods and a cup of coffee. All kinds of baked goods for sale. I generally get some crispy thing covering fruit, one with spinach and finally a small loaf of olive oil bread. I pick at the three for breakfast while sitting on my little terrace outside my cave. Overlooking the volacano, sea and boats. What I do not finish, which is most of it, I leave wrapped in the frige. During the day, I pick at the remnants.

Being on a small island half way around the world can make you feel cut off from the rest of the world. Especially when the computer is down. I use a computer at an internet store. Yesterday morning, every attempt came up labeled disconnected from the internet. I returned at 5 in the afternoon to do the blog yesterday.

I took the free time the disconnected internet gave me to walk. Oia is Greek Orthodox. Tons of Greek Orthodox Churches and shrines. People all over the place praying and bowing.

I visited one of the Greek Orthox Churches yesterday. It sets in the middle of the marble walkway behind my cave accomodations. About a mile down the way. In front is a huge plaza. Then an imposing white church.

I had never been in a Greek Orthodox Church before.

Dark when you first enter. The sun and eyes. I sat till I could see clearly. Beautiful! The only word to describe what I saw. Riches, also. Chandeliers of gold and silver. Wall plaques and figurines of gold and silver. Be clear. Not brass. Not a thin covering. For real gold and silver. A shining brilliance! The Greeks do not cheat their God as they honor Him.

Most visitors were Greeks coming to pay homage rather than curious visitors. Some locals, some foreigners.

They all burn candles. Or what I assume are candles. They look like bloated incense sticks. Light at the top. When lite, were placed with others in a stand. Then the supplicant would bow, cross his or her self several times and then bow again. I hope I have the sequence correct.

I have found over the years in my infrequnet visits to religious places unknown to me, that there is a peace and tranquility in spending some time in them. I felt it yesterday. I recalled a simiar feeling thirty some odd years ago at a Muslim museum in New York City. I sat in a small room with several Buddahs. I did not want to leave.

You will recall last year my blood pressure problem. Took a whole year to get it under control. My ankles were constantly swollen with fluid. I was popping water pills daily.

My ankles were big yesterday. First time in a couple of months. I carry water pills and potassium pills with me to use if necessary. My heart doctor said lay flat for three hours after taking the pills to get the best effect. I did. I lay for three hours in the cool of my cave on the bed. I would have done it outside down the steps by the pool on a chaise lounge. However, I needed to be near an appropriate facility when the need to expell fluid arose. Ergo, the bed with the bathroom nearby.

Everything is hills in Santorini. Even walkways and roads. Up and down. Everything is steps also. Too many. For example, fifty steps down from street level to my cave. To the pool, an additional fifty steps. What goes down, must come up. The reverse has generally been true. Ho ho! These steps are not normal. No codes here. They are different widths and different heights. I find the fifty steps from my cave to the road a killer. I have to stop and sit a few minutes at the top before proceeding.

Walking is impossible to avoid. The parking lot for my rented car is 1/2 mile down the road. An example of being compelled to walk every where.

Why am I boring you with this onerous walking situation? Because it is causing my belly to go down. For real. More than half way. I can’t believe it! I have no scale to see if I have actually lost weight. Whatever, my stomach is dramatically down and my face decidedly thinner. My heart, whether stronger or weaker, I do not know.

Come walk with me in Santorini!

Ate at the Katina again last night. The restaurant sitting on a concrete shelf beneath a towering lava created mountain. The daughtrer of the owner greeted me. I was remembered. So did 4 or 5 waiters.

I sat precisely at the edge of the concrete abutment. Another inch and I would have been swimming with the fishes.

I knew exactly what I wanted. Did not need a menu. I started with hot grape leaves stuffed with rice covered with oil. Everything is covered with oil in Greece. Understandable, there are olive trees all over the place. Red snapper for my entre. The fish was grilled and delivered to me splayed with the spinal bone removed. Boiled potatoes and cooked greens. Both buried in oil. For dessert, baklava. A rich crispy cake covered with honey. A double espresso. With the meal, I enjoyed three gins and one ouzo.

When the bill arrived, I was comped certain items as occurred with my previous visit. The waiter told me the 3 gins, 1 ouzo, the grape leaf appetizer, the espresso, and the baklava…..were on the house! This entire glorious meal cost me all of 24 euros. $34 American money.

Burbing is in vogue and socially acceptable in Greece. At the end of my meal, I inadvetntly let out a big one. The waiter looked me, beamed and said…..good! A Greek couple sitting at the table next to me did likewise.

Another beach day in the making. Today it is Kamari Beach. I have inquired and been assured no hills to climb. Park the car and walk directly onto a flat sandy beach.

Kamari is supposed to be a tourist place. Many restaurants and bars. I may stay for dinner.

I have also been assured there will be topless and totally naked woman. We shall see. No, I shall see.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 11

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Ho ho Yogi Bear! I am having a terrific time!

Donkeys have become a part of my life all of a sudden. First in Navarro when I discovered horsemeat and donkey meat were sold in butcher shops for human consumption. Donkey was viewed to horsemeat as veal is to cattle meat. Now donkeys in Santorini.

Before I made the trip, many told me to be sure to ride the donkeys up and down the hill. The hill that in reality is a mountain of lava.

I saw the donkeys yesterday for the first time. I was taking a walk along the other road. The road that runs between the cave hotel apartments and lesser accommodations. Actually the other side of the road is where the working people of Santorini live. Much like Stock Island is to Key West.

All of a sudden, I came upon eight donkeys on the side of the road. All saddled up and ready to go. What beautiful animals! I am a horse lover of sorts. The horses that race at Saratoga. Especially up close. Magnificant beasts. So too were these donkeys. Beautiful shiny coats. Ears standing straight up. Big bright eyes. Muscular legs. Very muscular.

These donkeys carry people up and down the side of a nearby lava mountain. On a path running along the side. Along a five foot wide path has been constructed 2,000 feet plus long. It consists of 500 plus steps. The steps of varying widths. A short 3 foot wall on the ocean side.

The ride did not appeal to me. I did not wish to be an ass on an ass. I was fearful of either the donkey or me or both of us falling over the wall. I raised that issue with the man in charge of the donkeys. I think I insulted him. He told me very firmly that no donkey or person had ever even fallen off the path into the ocean.

The path was made of dirt and rocks.

I had Nikos give me a ride in his car down the mountain.

The volcano sitting out in the water is like a magnet. It draws me to it. I have decided to visit the volcano in the next few days. I want to look into the opening and its depths. I want to view the smoke and sulphur and whatever else my eyes can see.

The volcano is not too high. Most of it sunk into the sea. So I should be able to walk to the top.

There is an added attraction. There are springs periodically spraying water and smoke. Baths from the emissions are available on site. I want to bathe in these waters. Supposedly healthful, I will be doing it merely for the experience.

Sanrorini is the largest of the several islands which were born 3,500 years ago when the volcano had its major eruption. It is big. How large, I am not sure. Larger than Key West I do know.

The whole island has a mere 13,000 permanent residents. Compared to Key West which has 19,00.

Santorini is the name of the whole island. There are several villages and towns located on the island. I am staying in Oia, one of those towns. People are nice here. Just as in Key West.

Sociable, helpful.

I spoke of beauty parlor proprietor Catherine Risvani yesterday. Catherine owns the only beauty shop in Oia. One to a town, I guess. Called Hair & Soul. It is a beautifully done small place. Two chairs, two sinks, a manicure station and a counter. Two lovely ladies working for her.  Catherine gave me a manicure this week.

Catherine is lovely in appearance. A typical Grecian beauty. Tall, thin and blond. Hair swept up and somehow tied in back. Interestingly, I have yet to find a Grecian woman who wears her hair down. Catherine also has high cheek bones. Another trait of Grecian women.

The bill for the manicure was 20 euros. About $28 american money. I was out of euros. I asked Catherine if she took credit cards. No. So I took out one of my $100 bills and told her to hold it while I went to the ATM machine for euros. She would not take the $100. Strangers though we were, she trusted me. In a tourist town. Typical of the Greeks here.

Which brings me to Nikos and Maria. Proprietors of my cave accommodation. Nikos and Maria are around 60. Own the Filotera Cave Houses aka Filotera Villas. A superior accommodation. Consistent with historical Santorini.

They and their son Adonis work their asses off. They have staff, but work along with staff from very early morning to late at night.

When I first arrived and met Maria, she was in a dress and apron. Smiling always. She does not speak English. I no Greek. Yet we have had several conversations. Each of us has spoken our native tongue. We understood each other!

I figured after first meeting Maria that she was the typical Mama Mia. A dress and apron. Always cooking and cleaning. Always watching the grandchildren.

Was I wrong!

The next time I saw Maria she was in peddle pushers and a tee shirt. Directing the employees.

Nice people these two.

It was Maria’s birthday the day I arrived. She sent a piece of birthday cake to my rooms. Nikos picked me up at the airport. Nikos drives me where ever I have to go. And picks me up. Their caves are lovely and clean. Very clean. Take a look at them. www.filoteravillas.gr, www.filoteravillas.com and www.santorini.com/hotels/filoteravillas. These sites will give you a flavor of cave living. They will surprise you!

The second day here, their son Adonis showed up with a bottle of wine. He said it was from his father’s vineyards. A special brew. Please enjoy it. I did, the next day. A cross between a white and red. A distinctive special taste.

Yes, Nikos and Maria besides owning the cave villas also own a vineyard and wine producing facility on Santorini. They ship world wide.

Nikos and Maria live across that street I mentioned earlier. In a small apartment less accommodating than the caves. In November, it gets cold on Santorini. They move to their home on the other side of the island. When it gets colder, they move to their home in Athens. During the winter months, they generally take a one to two month trip to the Caribbean or South Pacific.

It gets better.

Santorini and the Greek isles are not the United States. Many amenities we are accustomed to do not exist or are not provided. Like my clothes getting washed and ironed.

I was warned before I embarked on this odyssey that such would be the case. I came prepared. Purchased shirts and shorts at Orvis. That special material that is light, easy to wash and dry. Generally requiring little or no ironing.

I wash my own clothes. For real. Easy. In the bathroom sink. Drop some dishwashing fluid on the clothes. A bit of water. Wash with my hands. Then shake dry.

The clothes still need hanging. Dryers are not common place on the island. Could not hang the clothes in front of my cave accommodation. It would not look right nor would it be proper.

There are clothes lines across the street at the cheaper accommodation. I hung my first washing there to dry. When I returned that evening, Maria came out to greet me. She insisted on ironing my clothes. My saviour in disguise!

If you ever plan to come to Santorini, stay with Nikos and Maria. You cannot do better. Their telephone number is 003022860 71110. Fax number 003022860 71555. E-mail Filotera@otent.gr.

Enough for today.

There is much still to share.

This afternoon I am going to a beach somewhere on this island. Where I am guaranteed seeing bare breasted women. And, if I am lucky, some bare assed ones.

Enjoy your day!

 

 

 

 

DAY 9

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I SCREWED UP. LOST TWO THIRDS OF THIS BLOG. CANNOT RECREATE NOW. HAVE TO RUN. WILL PICK EVERYTHING UP TOMORROW.

…kitchen at one end. Tables covering the rest. Nothing fancy. Very basic, except again for the view and food.

It is a fish place. Very fresh fish. You are taken into the kitchen to select your own fish. Everything is explained including weight. everything is charged by the pound.

I had scorpion and boiled potatoes. A meal to die for!

Never had nor heard of Scorpion before. A fat red fish. Fire engine red. Big eyes. Ugly. The waiter told me it would be delicious. It was.

The boiled potatoes. Oh, so good! Sliced about 1/4 inch thick. Covered with oil and lemon.

Two appetizers before. Three gins for me. Two wines for my companion.

The bill was less than $50 American money. I was not charged for the three gins and two wines. The appetizers were on the house, also. The owner’s daughter came over to tell us of the house’s generosity and encourage us to return.

The Greeks are worried about the economy. Just as Key Westers were a few years ago. They are doing everything to be hospitable and encourage return business. Tourism is their only industry.

In the few days I have been here, I have noticed that everyone, tourists and locals alike, dress sloppy. More sloppy than Key West visitors. I am getting into it. Not a bad way to live. Not to worry about one’s appearance.

I have been asking around how the economic crisis is affecting business on Santorini. The response is the same from all. It is not, except for the German tourists. Two years ago, the German tourists were openly blaming the Greeks for the euro crisis. The Greeks on Santorini got fed up with their attitude. Told the Germans in effect to shove it. The Greeks here developed the same mental frame as the early Texans….Don’t thread on us!

The aforementioned situation resulted in a resurgence of World War II ill will. Apparently the Germans committed many atrocities while occupying Greece.

The two events have resulted in few, if any, German tourists. And the Greeks do not care!

There is something happening here. You can feel it. I refer to the economic/euro crisis. It is a tinderbox waiting to ignite.

There are two major problems in the world today. One is Iran. A military problem. The other the euro crisis which I fear might explode here in Greece. If it does, it will be like the volcano explosion 3,500 years ago.

I received bad news this morning. Jenna e-mailed me that Courtney Aman died. Courtney was my trainer. A good guy. A good liver. He was only 50ish. Muscle bound. Worked out, lifted weights, trained, ran, ate properly, did not smoke or drink. Shows you what good living will do for you.

I liked Courtney. We got along well. Attended a few parties together. He was a Key West fixture. He will be missed.

Enough for now. I am getting a manicure in 15 minutes.

What a life!

Enjoy your day!