Juxtaposition in Santorini

by Eileen March (Canada)

I didn't expect to find Greece

We’ve arrived! After a long 20+ hours of travel yesterday we finally landed in Santorini, first stop on this month long journey. Last night we watched the sun set over the caldera, a dripping fuchsia ball of light dipping down towards the sea. This morning I watched it rise again, the night having had no effect on its splendour. Doves cooed, roosters crowed, a donkey brayed, church bells rang… and the ever-present traffic of the busy one-way street winding it's way up past our small hotel muffled all of the other sounds as dilapidated cars and rattling motorbikes hurtled past; locals on their way to work. A few smiled and nodded my way. An older gentleman tipped his hat with a warm “Calimera!”. Later in the day we headed to explore Santorini town. What struck me most as we walked through town today, what I was not expecting at all, were the contrasts. Snuggled in between pristine hotels, with their infinity pools shimmering in the sun and private decks overlooking the caldera, are the vestiges of faded splendour. Empty and crumbling shells that echo inaudibly of the money once spent within their walls. Prime real estate in a hub of touristic frenzy, lying barren; empty save for scraps of garbage and twisted metal long since discarded and baking in the unforgiving sun. It eludes me how they have not been restored. Perhaps they were ruined in the earthquake of 1956… but why do they remain in ruins when butted up against them are hotels with rooms that rent for upwards of 500 euro/night? A more alluring tourist trap could not be imagined. Stunning views, pastel and white and blue stucco, accordion music. Cruise ships disgorge their cargo multiple times a day. The throngs come spilling up the hill by donkey or cable car and clog the narrow arteries that are Santorini's streets like so much cholesterol. The side streets and local parks we explored were far more interesting to me than the main streets of town. Slightly unkempt, a bit shabby and run down, nevertheless full of character. Local teens congregating in an underground walkway, rife with flavourful “poetry”. Young men in the park, smoking and chatting. An old man napping on a narrow stair, his donkey driving stick resting on the wall behind him. A little boy in the park animatedly enjoying a game with only a pencil and the large side of a flattened cardboard box. A glimpse into the lives of the people who actually live in this place, who call it home… at least for part of the year. We have two more days here and already I am looking ahead to Naxos. I am eager to leave behind the throngs of tourists and noisy vehicles that seem to define this place. However there are charms here for those who are prepared to step away from the glitz and draw of souvenirs and alcohol and explore the shabbier side-streets and local haunts of this most famous of Greek island towns.