The Volcanic trek and the Oia sunset
Trip Start Apr 12, 2006
115Trip End Ongoing
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The Gyros here are bloody superb - smaller and fresher than the greasy, enormous souvlakis back home, often made with pork instead of the usual chicken or lamb, and to maximise the fat count they're jammed with fried chips. They hit the spot perfectly every time and are exactly the right size to make you think you need another one straight away
I must say, getting by with the English language around Greece and its many islands has been nothing short of a breeze
In the glorious, baking mid afternoon, the three of us put our walking boots on and took to the high crest of the volcano with the intention of trekking three hours from Fira to Oia, another cliff-side town on the tip of the island. Ois is the place to be for an awe-inspiring sunset, so we were told, and what better way to get there than on foot across an unbelievably scenic volcanic crest, taking in the full beauty of this unique, half submerged island. The trek was magnificent in itself. At one stage we sat on a clifftop ledge and just sat for ages, the three of us completely silent in the absolute silence surrounding us, taking in the surreal vista of the submberged caldera nearby and the haze-sheened neighbouring islands in the distance
Arriving in Oia around an hour prior to the sunset, we found another Gyros merchant and wolfed down yet another bloody Gyros, number three and the tastiest for the day. Dear God they are good. Perched on a white, curved Greek roof at the edge of the lookout point on the very tip of Oia, Brooks, The Rev and I sat and took in the full magnificence of a setting Greek Island sun. As the great orb of gas turned a deep, rich pink, the sky followed suit and transformed into a technicolour canvas, with jet contrails lingering in all directions. It was the height of romance, and once again i was stuck with two blokes. Story of my life. Anyway, the sun did its thing, and it was pretty amazing to see. However, i don't care how remarkable a sunset it, i don't feel it deserves a round of rapturous applause, which is what the ledge full of tour groups lined up behind us did as the sun sailed below the horizon, their multitide of digicams flashing wildy. The sunset is a natural occurrence, it's always there, and it aint coming back for a curtain call and an encore number. Give the clapping a rest, you geese.
We leapt on the bus back to Fira and hit the main drag for a healthy nightcap of Gyros (the 4th and final Gyros for today's impressive tally). Seven Gyros in two days cannot be healthy in any circumstance. Checked our resepctive emails at the local netcafe, and laughed when a Greek version of Farnesy's 'Your're the Voice' came on the stereo, potentially the most uninspiring version of this song ever conceived. Taking the 'splay as much tacky crap across the walls and ceiling of your pub as possible' angle of bar refurbishment, 'Murphy's Bar' endured our patronage at nightfall, but we deemed it a dive 30 minutes after arrival, though the blatant brutality of a Canadian ice hockey match on cable held our attention for a fair while. Having withdrawls from our post-dinner Italian gelato, i settled for a Magnum instead, followed by a walk back to the hotel and bed. Good work Santorini. Good times.