octopus, frappé, beer & hotsauce=the best combo
who's ready for a donkey ride? we were!
approaching santorini after a night homeless, sleeping on the port of milos
me in sarakiniko, a world wonder!
sarakiniko
walking on the moon
acropolis, athens
There is undeniable truth to the beauty of the Greek isles.
The architecture of the land holds secrets deep within its turquoise waters.
Since my father passed away in July, 2007, I have traveled with his ashes in my pocket, sprinkling them in nooks and crannies of places he did or would enjoy. To this date, he has spread his wings far and wide: in Westchester, Java, Bali, Jakarta, Barcelona, Costa Brava, Ibiza, Berlin, throughout Italy and the U.S., Russia, Belize, Paradise Island, Harbour Island, among other locales. In his life of boundless adventures, Greece was a place he had only reached in his imagination.
After a 10+ hour flight from NYC, we landed at the Athens airport to discover that our flight to Milos was canceled due to the 'planes being old and unsafe.' They handed us 300 Euros each in reparations (sweeeeeet!) With four hours to kill before our ferry to Milos, we decided to climb the Acropolis--a truly surreal experience to embark upon an impromptu visit to a place that only existed in the deep folds of our pasts, evoked from distant memories of texts from middle school textbooks. The beaches of Milos were nothing short of magical--a desert-like terrain sorrounded by turquoise waters, burnt sienna cliffs, white moon-like surfaces, secret caves, and small enclaves that one could only reach via a steep, narrow decline on a rope.
Santorini was unreal: the caldera, blue and white houses atop a volcanic cliff, the food, the windmills, and the deep blue ocean so many feet below us was a Grecian paradise. The place was so beautiful that it even propelled me to overcome my fear of heights and donkeys, and to ride one 588 steps up & down the caldera. My father, I'm sure, laughed.
After a 10+ hour flight from NYC, we landed at the Athens airport to discover that our flight to Milos was canceled due to the 'planes being old and unsafe.' They handed us 300 Euros each in reparations (sweeeeeet!) With four hours to kill before our ferry to Milos, we decided to climb the Acropolis--a truly surreal experience to embark upon an impromptu visit to a place that only existed in the deep folds of our pasts, evoked from distant memories of texts from middle school textbooks. The beaches of Milos were nothing short of magical--a desert-like terrain sorrounded by turquoise waters, burnt sienna cliffs, white moon-like surfaces, secret caves, and small enclaves that one could only reach via a steep, narrow decline on a rope.
Santorini was unreal: the caldera, blue and white houses atop a volcanic cliff, the food, the windmills, and the deep blue ocean so many feet below us was a Grecian paradise. The place was so beautiful that it even propelled me to overcome my fear of heights and donkeys, and to ride one 588 steps up & down the caldera. My father, I'm sure, laughed.
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