Ancient Greece and Santorini

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We left Cairo for Greece, having to return to Dubai first to make the connection on Emirates. It was a brutal half day affair for a two hour flight, but we finally arrived in Athens with all our luggage and kids.

Paul found us Athenian digs ideally located within the shadow of the Acropolis, across the street from a music teacher who had some impressive and loud opera students. Impressively loud. Josh found them irritating. We had one room stuffed with three bunkbeads and a tiny washroom. When you sat on the loo you had no choice but to put your feet in the shower stall. There was internet and a laundromat nearby, so despite the forced togetherness, we were happy.

We would have done the Athenian sites at a leisurely pace, but were all serially hit with whatever the gi bug in this neck of the woods is. Zeus’ revenge? Whatever it was called, it tied us to the apartment for a few days, necessitating an abbreviated but intense tour of the ancient city between bouts of gut wrenching cramps. We were particulaly impressed by the Acropolis, its satisfying proportions and the comfort of its washrooms. We wished, however, the ancients so attuned to beauty and function had recognized the relative benefits of toilet seats.

Having recovered enough to get on another plane, we left Athens, heading for Santorini, with low expectations because every travel agent we spoke to (and there were four) predicted poor weather and bad service since the season wouldn’t really start for another couple of weeks. We went anyway, glad to get away from our virally infested apartment, and were happily surprised. Santorini is yet another beautiful place. We stayed at a recently renovated and unknown hotel called the Aria Lito Mansion, built into the side of the mountain overlooking the Adriatic Sea in the capital of Fira. The whitewashed buildings, the blue blue sky and the general serenity made a most comfortable and welcome contrast to the noise and busyness of Athens. We had reserved something called a queen suite. Presumably they took one look at me when I booked it and figured the shoe fit. This suite was to have two rooms and an extra bed to sleep us all. When we got there we were happily surprised to learn that rather than squish us all together, they comped us another queen suite (presumably they took one look at them and figured I needed space) with what amounted to a private pool and patio overlooking the sea. Paul wouldn’t agree to stay in the second room with the kids despite some compelling arguments for that arrangement, but we were all ultimately thrilled with the hotel. They didn't charge for the contents of the minibars.

Our time in Santorini was spent being lazy. We ate a lot of crepes and read. In between we managed to meander through the narrow alleys, rubbing elbows with friendly locals, admiring handicrafts fashioned from olive wood and resenting the throngs that periodically ascended the cliffs from the cruise ships far below. We referred to these folk as tourists, using the word derisively. We are so superior. Queenly. The suites prove it.

Four days to completely recharge our batteries then we fly up to Italy. First stop, Roma. Paul and I are looking forward to the coliseum and the Vatican. The kids are looking forward to pizza.

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Photos

Our Hotel
Just outside our hotel room