Santorini, Day 1(Monday)

Monday
Day
What a day. What an incredible, amazing, absolutely ridiculous day. I woke up at 9:15 and went to breakfast (bread and butter and jam, probably not worth five euros), then took a dip in the pool. Then I walked up to the nearest Moto rental place, where a man greeted me: “Why not try a bike, my friend?” So I got myself an ATV. It cost 10 euros for 24 hours, and that’s only because I got myself the fast one (I’d hate to see the slow one). Add to that 5 euros of gas, and I was set for the day. I took off randomly, aiming for Perissa, but I ended up in Kamari, where I found a “beach.” Really, it was large black pebbles. It was hardly comfortable, and also incredibly hot – like, oven hot. So after half an hour I got back on the X-Rider (for that was the name of my fearsome mount) and cruised towards Perissa. There I found a real beach, where I lay for a long time. It was all black sand – rather, fine black grit that invaded everything. Even so, it was very, very nice. I had a Greek salad and ouzo at one of the ubiquitous tavernas along the shore, and changed into my bathing suit (for no reason, as it turned out – I never went in the water). By this time, it was mid-afternoon, so I thought about heading home. But then I got distracted by the promise of red sand beaches, and so I followed the signs. I parked along the shore, and after a quick hike, I was looking out over the red sand beach of Santorini. Stunning. A huge cliff of red, eroding volcanic stone looms over the beach, and it really is red. After another lie-down, it really was time to head home. So I threw on my sweater and got back on the ATV and began the “long” drive home – nothing is really that far away from anything.

Riding the ATV was probably the most fun I’ve had in a long while. You feel so free – it’s ridiculously intoxicating. I had only the most general of maps, and would decide to head off in a random direction whenever the urge took me, pulling over to take pictures every ten minutes – and somehow I managed not to get lost. I found myself laughing out loud fairly regularly – I dare say I was more carefree than any of the other tourists I saw on their ATVs, all riding tandem and studying their maps with worried faces. That’s another thing – I think I must be the only tourist that’s here alone. Everyone’s in pairs, whether it’s the constant stream of vacationing couples, or the groups of young teenagers. And honestly, I am pretty glad I did. Not that this wouldn’t be the perfect place to come with somebody, because it would, but traveling alone is a pretty crazy experience. You learn a lot, listen a lot, and see a lot – more, probably, than you would if you weren’t flying solo. And everyone so far has been incredibly friendly, which I’m not sure I was expecting.

Night
After I parked the X-Rider in front of Blue Sky Villas, I took another quick dip in the pool, put on my pants and sweater, and sat outside and had a beer (which was given to me in the morning by a pair of Canadian women who were leaving that afternoon). Then I got up and walked into town. It was just as beautiful as the first time I was there, all white houses and blue roofs, and I stopped again on the edge of the cliff to stare out over the water for a good twenty minutes. Then I made my way to an open-air café on the cliffside, where I had a Greek coffee (I don’t even know what it was, but it was disgusting – just sludge, not even tasting of anything other than – oats, maybe? Bizarre) and another ouzo. I sat there for a long, long time, watching the sun set over the caldera. Behind me was a group of Americans, and I amused myself by eavesdropping shamelessly on their conversations. When they left, I offered to take their picture (which, for some reason, put one of the men very ill-at-ease), and told them where to watch the sun set in Athens. They were very grateful.

I walked out of the café and into the first restaurant I saw with octopus on the menu. It came grilled, with mashed potatoes, a salad, and some incredibly delicious mixture of rice, peas, and sweet peppers. The octopus was okay – nothing a Portuguese would be proud of, but it did the job. Covered in oil and lemon juice, it went down pretty easily. I’m having weird food issues these days – I rarely want to finish anything, and usually feel ill after I have a large meal. I don’t know if it means I just can’t eat as much, or if I haven’t been eating good food, or what. But it’s strange, whatever it is.

Wandering out of the restaurant, I saw a bar showing rally highlights on TV – and it so happened that it was happy hour. The Two Brothers is smallish but lively, the closest thing to a dive bar that I’ve seen since I got here – definitely my style. The bartenders are very friendly, and there’s some old guy named “Alex” who “works” outside, blowing his whistle at pretty girls. So I stopped short and walked in, and this is what happened next:

Girl (in English, smiling): Are you all right?
Me, smiling back: Yeah, thanks. (To the bartender) Jameson on the rocks, please.
Man sitting next to me: Where are you from?
Me: Colorado. The states.
Man: Ah. I’m from Scotland. And she’s from England. What’s your name?
Me: Jasper.
Man: I’m Sean. And this is Claire.
Me: Nice to meet you both.
Claire: Watch out, he’s a nutter

And he is, really, but of the best sort. He used to be in the army (for six years), doing exactly what he wouldn’t say. But he’s lived all over the place, finding odd jobs wherever he goes, living out of pocket and “not touching me bank accounts.” He’s about thirty, I’d guess, maybe a little younger, and he’s the guy at the bar that everybody knows and loves. He’s the free publicity, basically – the life of the party, singing and dancing and laughing and flirting with all the girls and joking with all the guys. He and I sat at the bar for a long time, talking, drinking and smoking, while Claire (who technically works there, though she doesn’t do much) jumped in and out of the conversation. At about eleven, Sean left to go see a woman, and I had another whisky. At that point I got approached by another woman, Genie, who was visiting with her husband, Steve.

“Can I feel your hair?” She asked. “Why not,” I said. So she did. “Have you seen Twilight?” She asked again. “Yup,” I said. “You look just like Edward!” she squealed, “My girlfriends are going to flip over this! Can I take a picture?” Laughing, I assented, so she took a picture of Claire and me. “Seriously, this is fantastic,” she said, “My girlfriends are going to be so jealous. We’re all obsessed with Twilight.” Then she bought everyone a round of shots – Me, Genie, Claire, Steve, another guy (my age) who they were with (also named Sean), and the bartenders. She kept asking everyone if they had seen Twilight – no one knew what she was talking about, which made her very disappointed. Steve and Genie were really fun and incredibly nice, and I sat and talked (and drank) with them for a while as well. Their son (Aged eleven – Genie is 43 and Steve is 37, but neither of them looks a day over 30) plays soccer, and they wanted to talk about competitive ball. Genie kept insisting on buying me drinks, which was fine with me. After a few more shots, a couple pictures, and a few more vampire-related jokes, she and Steve called it a night. I turned back to the bar, only to have Other Sean pull me away. He was talking to three Swedish girls, and I suppose he wanted me in some sort of Wingman capacity. So I joined them.

“Have you seen Twilight?” asked one of the girls. I laughed, and said yes. “That is good. Twilight is…good,” she said, and all her friends wholeheartedly agreed. “Do you know you look just like the boy in the film?” they asked. We talked briefly about family in Sweden (although I could barely understand anything they said. They all spoke English, but accented, and for some reason the music kept getting louder and louder as the bar got emptier and emptier), and they asked for a picture as well. Sean wandered back in at around one o’clock, having dropped his date off at home (being a gentleman, he said), had a few more beers, and somehow managed to get everyone to start dancing. Other Sean and the Swedish girls left for another bar, and Sean decided to call it a night, as he had to get up early for work (at what everyone assures me is the most exclusive hotel on the island). I was ready to leave as well, but for some reason I had another whisky. As I was about to walk out the door, the bartender (Alex) stopped me.

“Excuse me,” he said, “the lady at the bar would like to know if you have heard of a film called Twilight.” I walked over and said hello, and the bartender told me that she wanted to buy me a drink. “A shot of whisky in a beer,” he said. Very, very reluctantly I assented, took the drink, said goodbye, and walked out of the bar (I say walked, but what I did was far less elegant than walking). I made it back to my room, where I learned that being sick alone is even less fun than being sick in the company of others. In fact, it’s terrible. Anyway, I rinsed my head in a cold shower and downed a bottle of water, and then stumbled into bed.

I woke up with an absolutely terrible hangover and slept through breakfast, rising only to return my ATV. Then I came back, put on my swimsuit, and lay by the pool for three and a half hours, draping my arms and legs in the water. I ate some yogurt (also given to me by the Canadians), and drank some more water. It’s now 4:30, and I’m beginning to feel myself again. I’m supposed to meet Sean, Genie and Steve again tonight, but I don’t know if I can do it – maybe I can get away with cola and tonic water, because even though lying by a pool in Greece is fantastic, there are still things I want to see.

My god, I feel like I must be omitting so much – it seems like yesterday lasted a year. I kept telling myself, “write every day, write every day – you’ll forget everything if you don’t,” and already it’s proving true. Oh, well. Plenty of time left.

You’re next to me asleep and I smile; think I’ll drive on for a while.