Aegean Islands
Island hopping by ferry ride along the east coast of Greece.
I believe the foundation of Hellenic civilization lies on the islands.
Maybe I'm just an underfunded sailing buff,
but it was by colonizing the archipelago, and developing the seafaring skills necessary to
prosper in that environment, that Mycenian culture gained the nautical strength necessary to survive a
Persian invasion and become the power which dominated trade across the Mediterranean Sea. Without the
seaworthy abilities of the early Greeks their language and myths would have remained a local curiousity rather than
expanding outward to form much of the backbone of western thought.
Once their language had taken root in centers of trade throughout the
region, the writings of Athenian philosophers and poets could then be exported abroad
and influence the series of empires that
would follow in its wake. Although the islands are the typical visitors destination,
there are a number of good reasons for this not the least of which is learning about ancient societies.
To discover to the roots of Greek civilization,
or at least have a basic appreciation of the environment that led to their economic and probably cultural
success, one needs to get their sea legs on a sailboat (or ferry ride) across the Aegean Sea.
Morning in Galatas [Monday, July 28]. This is looking out our hotel window toward the city and island of Poros,
which is a quick ferry or water taxi ride across the strait. From Poros, larger ferries depart to Athens,
and other nearby Islands around the Aegean.
It's a one-hour ferry ride to the city and island of Hydra.
Disembarking, little did I know I would be climbing to the
1500-foot summit at the right (if I read the local nautical map correctly-- the distortion from the wide
angle lens may also be squishing it in the picture). This day was as hot as the others, and I was hoping
to relax in the shade sipping on cool drinks, and maybe going for a little swim.
Sitting beneath the broad awning in a seafront cafe, nibbling on a gyro,
watching boats calmly floating in the harbor, Sukanya reads of a local
monastery about an hours hike from town though the island wilderness. "How cool," I think to myself,
and we decide to head to the outskirts of town to see if we can find the trail.
Just walking up to the edge of town gets us all hot, thirsty and sweaty.
It's almost entirely steep stairways twisting through blinding plaster-white houses.
Here we hide in a shady alcove before continuing on to the edge of town. Sukanya's mom has wisely turned around.
Sukanya and I have most of a 1.5 liter bottle of water between us.
Here we are at the edge of town. Is that the monastery up there? It looks like a monastery, kind of abandoned.
It hasn't actually been an hour or anything, but it feels like it.
The Greek Islands were once covered with conifers, but were deforested to make lumber for
ships. Now the forests are slowly starting to make a comeback.
Just beyond the abandoned monastery, up the mountain, was a small
pine forest where we sought refuge in the shade of one of the older trees, trying to figure out from our tour book
exactly where this monastery is.
While wandering around the area I found a sign a little further up the hill directing us to the path.
Stairway to heaven. This is what much of the route to the top looked like,
although some of it was a more typical trail switchbacking
through the woods. By the time the second shot was taken-- where begins the final assault to the peak, entirely
up stairs, without shade, for maybe half a mile-- Sukanya had wisely turned around and I was out of water.
I'm hoping there's some water "from the mountain" at the monastery, or maybe a concession stand where I can buy a bottle.
The doors of the monastery. Unfortunately they were closed because the monks were doing siesta, from 2:00-4:00,
and right now it was 2:30. At least there was some shade, although my lips were already parched.
The last two words mention the Prophet Elias but I can't figure out the rest of it.
The patio at the summit, to the right of the monastery gate, offers a nice view of more islands to the south.
Now why didn't the tour book just say the monastery was at the top of the mountain overlooking the
city? Then it would have been easy to find.
Even without shade, up here it was actually fairly cool with a pleasant breeze blowing.
I drank and drank and drank when I got back down, but still had dehydration headaches for the next couple of days.
Plato's
legend of Atlantis
may derive from events
that brought an end to Minoan Civilization in the 17th Century B.C. He described the Atlanteans as a
seafaring power in competition with the ancient Greeks (or Mycenians),
who were technologically and culturally advanced but
sank into the ocean as punishment by the gods for their licentious way of life. The Minoan civilization was
based in Crete but also inhabited nearby islands. They dominated trade throughout the region, were advanced
in metallurgy and unique in having indoor plumbing with flush toilets and possibly hot and cold running water.
Archeological excavation of the outpost on Santorini revealed a community of craftsmen, tradesmen, fishers and farmers,
with no evidence unearthed of any ruling class. Their predominant art form, large colorful
paintings
on the indoor walls
of their dwellings, generally depicted everyday scenes of living and working, and offer fragmented
glimpses into an ancient way of life that ended with the eruption of Santorini c. 1630 B.C.
Thira was destroyed directly from the volcanic blast-- four times the size
of Krakatoa and the greatest natural disaster in the last 10,000 years-- and the cities on Crete (40 miles away)
were inundated by the tidal wave that ensued.
Remnants of Minoan civilization survived, but were assimilated by other societies over the next century, and
the Mycenians took their place as trade leaders throughout the Mediteranean region.
From the Port of Pireaus [Tuesday, July 29], this is the overnight
ferry to
Santorini.
The only tickets left were budget class, where the only accommodations provided for sleeping
was the cold sheet metal on the deck. But the sea breeze was fresh and crisp, so it offered one
of the more comfortable nights I've had so far in Greece. Before people went to sleep it was a fun and jovial
atmosphere on the upper deck.
For being vacation, it seems like I've been seeing more than my fare share of sunrises.
I think both of these shots are of Ios, the last stop before reaching Santorini.
Finally we are arriving at the Port of Athinios [Wednesday, July 30], inside the caldera on Santorini Island.
What remains of the
original island, Strongyli, is an incomplete ring around the ocean filled crater called the "caldera."
Actually, two islands are found on the perimeter around the crater:
the larger one is Santorini or Thira, and the smaller one is Thirasia.
A van took us from the docks on thin road switchbacking up the steep inner wall. The outer edge of the volcanic
cone was covered in ash from the eruption resulting in unusually fertile land of which almost every inch
is farmed. Grapes are a common crop, producing a very fruity local white wine.
They simply sprawl out over the ground here.
This is overlooking the caldera from the main tourist area of Fira, the largest city. The middle island out there
is a volcanic cone, slowly growing with repeated eruptions over the centuries since the main eruption in 1630.
It's an island being formed. The far island is Thirasia, on the outer lip of the caldera.
More island geography: Santorini is entirely a volcanic island. The original island of Strongyli was built
by repeated eruptions, one after the other, that you can see in these layers of stone. Eventually the top of
the cone cooled and sealed off, but pressure continued to build within. It built and built and built, until in
1630 B.C. an earthquake opened a fissure in the wall, allowing seawater to seep in. Upon reaching the magma it formed
steam, and like a pressure cooker reaching the break point the top blew open resulting the shape of the island we see
today.
And here goes Sukanya making friends with dogs again.
She pet this stray dog one time and it ended up following us for a
mile as we strolled around Fira. Little does she know those bright white shorts and shirt are on borrowed time.
As darkness descended upon us, the city clinging tenaciously over the lip of the caldera lights up to become
a big party pueblo hanging in the night sky.
Here is our boat at the volcano, around noon [Thursday, July 31], as hot as Greece gets without any hint of breeze,
shade, or hope that this will be anything but a blistering day.
Look at all these crazy people actually climbing to the top of the cone, which is about 500 feet in elevation climbing
over maybe a mile. The sizzling hot black rocks don't help any. You're mad... all of you! Look at yourselves...
you're blind sheep under the twisted leadership of insane tour guides breathing year after year the sulfurous fumes!!
Okay, my motto is: if you can't beat 'em... blind 'em!!
I think I'll show off my six-pack, except the light isn't shining
in that exact right direction where you can kind of make out my abs out a little bit. Sukanya says it's just my
imagination. Yes, that white shirt has been washed since I wore it in London,
although its brief state of cleanliness will soon be lost forever.
Gazing down in the largest of many volcanic craters here. You can see it from the picture, but sulfur steam is
emerging from one of the vents.
Couple more shots from the crater as we wisely head back to our boat.
Now we're sailing around to the smaller volcanic island, at the center of the first picture.
There are warm mud baths that open into the sea, which we can swim to. Covering ourselves with mud is supposed
to have rejuvenating properties. Not for white shirts, that's for sure. If you decide to go,
chose carefully what you wear. Fine silt collects inside your pores and oozes out the rest of the day into
your clothing. Mixed with sunscreen it forms an indelible reddish-brown stain.
After that, we made our way to the port at Thirasia. Now this is my idea of a Greek Island.
We decided to go to the top of the caldera, where there are cities on this island that really haven't been developed for tourism and
look more naturalistic. As much as it goes against my mountain biking instinct, it was just too hot to walk to the
top so we hired mules to bring us up.
Climbing the Caldera wall, with nice views of the little port below.
Everyone was feeling sorry for my mule. In fact, the first mule took one look at me an got so scared the guy had
to go find another. Number Seven here was a pretty good sport, although made strange gasping noises from time to
time, and I figured I wasn't his favorite passenger.
Still, at 3 Euros it was money well spent.
Finally, arriving at the top. Not exactly. This is jumping ahead to Oia. After the mule ride up we quickly checked
out the town, then hurried down catching the boat just in time before it departed.
We sailed over to the port at Oia, and then went
for a swim there.
I bought some goggles, and we saw mostly small fish and sea urchins under the water.
Not much else in terms of marine life. The ancient Minoan depiction of the string of large fish on a fisherman's line
seems to come from a different age. So, this is Oia at sunset, and, yes, we took another mule to get here as well.
More shots of Oia, at the northwestern tip of Santorini,
as we waited for the sun to drop in the Aegean finishing this long day.
The next morning [Friday, August 1] we took the tram down to the port of Fira where we departed for a totally lame submarine
ride. But at the port, people have made their homes out of caves built right into the volcano wall.
That must be an effective way to stay cool, but living in a cave near an active volcano is something
I'm not sure I would do.
The submarine took us down 90 feet, which was okay, but all they had to show us were
some flowerpots they threw in the water and told us to pretend it was Atlantis.
Okay, there was one real shipwreck of a tugboat from five years ago.
The tour is heavily advertised, probably because word of mouth isn't going to cut it.
They fill up a couple days ahead, but we say skip it.
I had high hopes given our previously good experience in Catalina.
After the submarine ride we took it easy for the rest of the afternoon before beginning our departure the next day.
On the way back to Pireaus we took the day ferry [Saturday, August 2].
All of the Greek Islands have this dry, bright, scrubby appearance. Which is which?
Neither of these is Ios, but one or both of these is Naxos. There, people got on the ferry to sell us local fruits, which
were mostly small but ripe plums, hardly bigger than grapes, and a couple apricots. I didn't write in my notes any
other port that we stopped at, so I guess both of these shots are probably Naxos.
This is the port of Paros, the main party island for visiting tourists.
At Paros, here are two churches of different styles:
the Byzantine architecture common to the interior of Greece, and the blue-domed
architecture typical of the islands.
Returning to Pireaus, sailing west into the sunset.
Dome-roofed church on Santorini (aka Thira), along the lip of the caldera that surrounds the blast crater.
View of Northern Fira along the top of the Caldera.
There was a reference in the Atlantis story to three different mines:
one that produces white rock, another black, and another red.
I see black and red, and maybe white.
An old rusty anchor in the clear waters off the old port of Thirassia.
This is the small port where the boat dropped us off for Oia, where watching the sun set is the thing
to do if you go to Santorini. We cooled off in the waters here with a very nice swim. Underwater there were a few
sea urchins and colorful small fish, but generally it was pretty barren.
The sunset seen from Oia, on the northwest tip of Santorini Island.