Three years ago I was walking with my family on a windy day on Dallas Road. We saw a bunch of people in the ocean, with big kites and boards, sailing across the water. I was entranced, I have always liked kites and flew small ones on Clover Point. I thought to myself, I want to try that. So after lessons and about 50 sessions at the “safe” place on Vancouver Island to learn Kiteboarding — Nitinat Lake (a paradise of remote wilderness) — I went to Cook Street for my first time today. It was thrilling! My training wheels are finally off!

First session of the year! Got to the lake at 11:30 and there were whitecaps. My first session had me heading down the lake and thinking I was going to have to do the walk of shame. But the wind got stronger and I dialed in my edge and after 1.5 hours made it back to the launch site. Yea! Thanks Snarfer for keeping me company down at the end of the lake. Second shorter session was able to land at launch spot no problem. Awesome. Got some sliding turns done too. Woot. And a few face plants. :-/ Lots of great conversation and advice from Snarfer on the drive in and out. What a great day.

I admit it. I am writing this entry on a plane. Technically, yes, with no sites or museums to see, we should have had more time on our hands to complete our blog posts. But the laziness is strong in Santorini. It likely has to do with the temperatures in the mid-30s bouncing off all that white paint (and our white skin).

We spent a lot of time on our deck, just moving chairs and umbrellas around to stay more or less shaded. The view is too mesmerizing to get boring. The volcanic rock, the striated cliffs with layers of grey and black, clay red and dark speckles, ash and pumice. Underneath, sea waters slip between shades of blue and green, and the wind draws shapes on the deepest sections where everything from kayaks to cruise ships regularly carve white designs. We lost count of the number of extravagant, enormous yachts that moored under us, and the number of boats (the ones we termed ‘pirate ships,’ old fashioned tall ships under motor, with no sails flying) that would come from Thira and disgorge tourists at the bottom of the switchback steps. We would know these boats were close to docking even if we weren’t watching because we would hear the bells of the donkeys as they were ‘encouraged’ to rush down those stairs to fetch the tourists up. Those poor beasts sometimes made four or five trips down and back up in an hour.

We came to learn the rhythm of the town, in small things like those bells. The mornings are lovely, cool, and quiet. There is a confused rooster living nearby who crows every night around 5. The busiest time is 6 to 8pm, when the visitor population of Oia easily doubles. Maybe triples. They come for the sunset in such numbers that they form a huge crush on the west end of the island. We foolishly got caught in that throng on the second night and avoided it as best we could for the remaining two nights; it is a lovely sunset, and it lasts a long time, but it is just a sunset and you can glimpse it almost anywhere in town. We were a little surprised when the hoards clapped for sun once it had set.

There are other rush hours too, ones that were harder for us to predict but are well-known to the locals; these are based on cruise ship tour buses. Huge swells of humanity, sweaty and snapping shots of everything invade the streets. We tried to imagine the unfathomable number of photos that must be taken in Oia on any one day. And who could blame all those shutter-bugs? We were certainly guilty of just suddenly coming to a full stop for no clear reason because we saw something so quintessentially, gorgeously ‘Greek Island’ that we just had to snap it. One of our cheeky guidebooks said that if you can’t take a postcard quality picture in Oia, you should just retire your camera. Very true. Although most people were just using their phones.

So, besides sitting around and taking pictures, what did we actually do? Well, we climbed up an down a lot of stairs, tread on a lot of marble, and ate a lot of breakfasts and lunches (and one candlelight dessert of baclava) on our deck. Deck meals usually involved a quick visit to the corner store and, more importantly, the bakery right above our cave. That bakery seems to supply the whole town. Its ovens were right next door to us, right between us and the baker’s own house. (Imagine the smell!) Mr. and Mrs. Baker — who hung their aprons against the wall outside our door at night — would sit with their exuberant grandkids from about 6 to 8pm every evening, and the kids would play on the stairs with the kittens. Not only does the baker family feed the mommy cat and the four kittens who spend most of the day on our deck, but they also feed another cat mommy (or two) and brood. If the ocean ever got dull, there were always wrestling kittens to watch.

We also learned the true definition of ‘caving.’ Whenever the heat got the better of us, we’d duck inside. Even 10 minutes inside was enough to reset the internal thermometer. And it is so much nicer than an air-conditioned cool: more natural, quieter, and doesn’t make the nose feel funny.

Athena and I got a good sense of air conditioning, however, when we went out on our shopping trips. The shops here are one of two kinds: cheap and trashy (full of tourist t shirts and hats) or pricey and posh. There are SO many lovely jewelry, art, and clothing shops filled with gorgeous, expensive things. And a look around at the visitors, especially those strolling the strand after dark, makes it clear how those stores survive; there are a lot of very wealthy people vacationing in Oia. And oddly, many of them are quite young. Just for fun, I searched Trip Advisor’s list of 5 star stays here and selected for the highest price per night. Result: $2730. And a number of other hotels that were not far behind. I guess that fits with the enormous yachts. But this surprised us. When David and I were here in 1997, it was quaint not posh. I guess it must have since been ‘discovered’ since then. (Thankfully, Athena and I were eventually able to find what we were looking for and could afford.)

We didn’t spend all our time up top of the cliff though. During one of those girly shopping trips, the boys walked down the donkey steps (dodging the poo) where they swam off the pier. Then, another day, we all walked down the other donkey steps (at the busy-at-sunset end of town). The boys went swimming again, while Athena and I just sat on the rocks and dipped out legs in. After that, we lingered there for a drink and had a chat with the taverna owner about his photos of him serving Oprah and Michael Jordan (not together). We also watched the staff descale and clean a huge (100 pound?) grouper fish. Then we headed to the donkeys, which we rode up 180 stairs. Athena had a lot of animal-rights-based ethical issues with doing that; we basically peer-pressured her into it, and she didn’t feel any better about the whole thing afterwards. For my part, I thought the ride was a total blast!

The only tricky thing about Oia was finding a place for dinner each night. We seem to have a solid case of Greek Restaurant Fatigue: while it was novel and fun to share four veggie appetizer dishes as a main course for the first couple weeks, the limited options eventually became tiresome. There at a lot of restaurants in Oia, but they all serve the same things …. as every other taverna in the country. Our hunting payed off one night though: we found Karma, a restaurant with some new interpretations on the traditional dishes and a couple very cute, sassy waiters for Athena to coo over.

Last night, our final night in Greece, we all got dressed up in our nicest things, gave up on finding anything interesting to eat, and planted ourselves on the terrace with the most gorgeous view of the town and the curve of the cauldera (we could even see our cave, if we squinted). The food was average, the service was awful, but the warm air and peachy pink sky that darkened and introduced a cliff of twinkling lights, made us not mind at all.

Throughout most of this trip, we have found that the days can be exciting but hot and busy and logistically challenging. However, inevitably, once we are settled in for dinner, we find so much joy in just being together. This trip, this family time, has been such a gift to me. The kids are turning into such lovely, clever, funny beautiful people, and they are fantastic dinner companions. Our daily recollections and decompressions, our off-colour observations, our debates and jokes and teasing (about everything from the state of the EU to the shape of statues pubic hair) might well be my favourite Greek memory. It has been so precious to be a family here. It truly was the perfect way to ‘graduate’ our Athena.

Location: Oia, Santorini

There is a paragraph that I use in my writing classes. It is about Greece. It talks about the country’s two big draws: the historical context and the R&R. We have definitely flipped to the latter. No more piles of broken rocks. No more mythology or religion or politics. No more museums. We have arrived on Santorini and will ride out the last four days simply enjoying the view, the sun, the food.

We managed to get to the Athens airport in more than enough time for our 1:20 flight. We did take the wrong road out of town, but thankfully the signs were on our side this time. We returned our car and checked our luggage with much less hassle and much quicker than we expected, and proceeded through security. David, who was by then in the full grips of a cold and therefore not quite on his game, had accidentally packed that hard-found, roadside-bought bottle of Neman wine in his carry-on. We can only hope the airport security people enjoy it with some nice cheese.

The plane was bigger than we expected (Airbus A320), and totally packed. The flight was short but beautiful: all those islands and all that blue, blue water.

We were a bit worried about how to get from the airport to Oia. There are four of us and, as was an issue with our rental car, quite a bit of luggage. We didn’t think a taxi could hold us, so we were looking at two bus rides (one to Thira and then another to Oia). However, we noticed that the cabs have roof racks, so we made arrangements with the first available driver, three what we could in his trunk, and he tied two bags to his roof with rope.

Good Lord! What an experience! I think it aged me more than a little. The driver had a hand held radio dispatch unit and an ancient flip-phone. He was yelling into one or both, in Greek, for the ENTIRE 30 minute ride. No exaggeration. What could be so important? He yelled up curvy mountain roads. He yelled doing lane changes on those roads. He yelled while tailgating semis, playing chicken with motorcycles, frightening people on ATVs, and zipping alongside tour buses. Most of the time, he was well over the speed limit and driving with no more than two fingers on the wheel (the others were full of devices).

We spilled out at the arranged place and had the arranged porters take us and our luggage to our Air BNB; the porters wee two super fit, super fast-moving young men who benchpress luggage for a living. As soon as they opened the door though, WOW! (See link above)

We are on the slightly quieter east side of town, right on the cauldera, in one of those “cave” homes carved out of the cliffside. All the rooms are in a separate ‘cave’ (bathroom, kitchen, bedrooms..) but the all open onto a central balcony that is visible (though you’d have to intentionally look for us) from the street up above. The rooms are very cool, both in terms of niftiness and temperature. It is a little weird to live in public; one has to get used to the possibility of a stranger seeing you as you walk from bedroom to bathroom, and when we go out, we have four doors to lock, but it is a fantastic experience. And, much to Athena’s delight, the patio is the adopted home to a mother cat with four growing kittens!

When we got here, we fell instantly into ‘lazy mode.’ There were naps and lounging on the patio and long showers and kitten watching and generally a lot of doing nothing. In fact, we didn’t leave the house until we went out for dinner. We (accidentally) went for an appetite-building hike through the nothing-but-fancy-cave-accommodation part of town until landing on a patio not unlike our own, for some great veggie moussaka and a lot of laughs.

Ah, Greece: Your dessert (relaxation) is as awesome as your main course (history).

The best for last.

Having returned to Athens, our goal for the day was to see as much of the National Archaeological Museum as possible. This was a big challenge!

The museum is about a 30 minute walk from our flat. This took us out of the Plaka and into realm of real Athenians. We started our walk with a stop at our nearby bakery for coffee and pastries eating and drinking as we walked. Previously, I was thinking out loud wondering “Where are all the disabled Athenians” because given the way the mopeds and motorcycles drive, there must be lots of accidents. Well, as we got out of the tourist area we started to see people begging while displaying their disfigured body part for maximum effect. Besides that, it was mostly regular Athenians going about their day, crossing the streets is the most daring ways and risking becoming another accident victim. It is clear that all rules of the road are more like guidelines than actual rules.

The museum is a bright yellow building with white columns and a wide marble staircase. Inside there is a wide entrance area where we bought our tickets and I checked my backpack. From the entrance you can go in three directions. To the left is Neolithic artifacts, to the right are Minoan pieces and down the centre passage is the very large display of Mycenaean treasures including the mask of Agamemnon. Each of these displays represent the oldest items from the early civilizations of Greece. From these initial displays we traveled forward in time see impressive works right up to Classical period and on into Roman times. The layout of the museum was a bit of a challenge, seeming to defy logic. Favourites of the museum were Aphrodite and Pan (with her sandal in her hand to slap him), the Mycenaean signet rings and daggers, some of the Kouroi figures and the funeral reliefs.

We stopped for lunch at the museum Cafe. I was worried that it was going to be expensive but I saw some museum staff having coffee so I figured it would be alright. We bought some sandwiches and drinks, with Kristine and I having just plain brew coffee. I didn’t pay to much attention to the cost of things. To steel ourselves for more museum exhibits, Kristine and I decided to have a second coffee. I went up and got 2 more regular coffees and the lady asks for 6 Euros. My jaw dropped, I had paid about $4.20 for a cup of coffee. Ack! I am doing my part to help Greece out of debt. Only a few more coffees and I will have them sorted.

After a long day in the museum, the 30 minute walk back seemed long but we made it back to our flat for a drink and Athena got ready to go and meet a Greek girl, Myrto, who will be attending Sciences Po with her in the fall. They went to the Cafe Plaka a few blocks from the house for a Cappuccino Freddo before wandering about the Placka for a couple hours. Myrto, who came by the house to drop Athena home, is a charming 18 year-old debate champion whom Athena is looking forward to meeting again in Reims. Athena enjoyed walking the streets with a local, especially when she verbally slapped-down an aggressive street hustler with a few bullet-fast Greek phrases.

Athena arrived back at 9PM and we went up to the top of our street to the restaurant for some more traditional Greek food and live music. We had been walking past this restaurant everyday when we were in Athens and turning down the offers to sit made by the proprietor. We figured we out to patronize the taverna right next door to our flat at last once. The food and music were good with lots of Greek patrons (always a good sign) and a very large and celebratory table of gay tourists. Another great day in Greece.