The Cyclades (Part 2 of our Odyssey) - Summer 1989

I was literally laughing out loud when I placed the image for this blog article. As you can see, I've selected an incredible destination in Santorini, but it could not be further aesthetically from the place my boyfriend and I stayed when we visited the island in 1989.

As you may recall from the last article...

The bus we ultimately took was the last to leave the port, and by the time we made the steep, scary climb, we disembarked to find that there was not a single room to rent on the entire island.

Yes, after a 20-hour trip to get from Thessaloniki to Santorini (which seems like a ridiculously long time given that Greece is roughly the size of an average U.S. state in terms of area), we arrived at the port, missed the bus, and couldn't find a single room to rent. It was the week of Maria's name day, and people from all over Europe descended on that island like zombies descended on Columbus, Tallahassee, Wichita, and Little Rock.

After inquiring with every hostel, hotel, inn, and rental house, we looked around and found an empty bar, with a bartender preparing for the influx of tourists that would inevitably arrive later that day. It was an "open" bar in the sense that it was not enclosed by walls. It was more of a lovely wooden bar with minimalistic bar stools and small tables in a mostly outdoor area.

The bartender looked busy but glanced at us occasionally with a look of concern. My boyfriend and I were coming to terms with the fact that we’d probably be sleeping on the beach that night. It was really hot, and we had been hauling our luggage around for 4 or 5 hours, and we just wanted to rest for a bit.

We meandered over to the bar and ordered lunch and some drinks. My boyfriend started speaking to the bartender in Greek, and the bartender, relieved to be speaking with a fellow countryman instead of a tourist, relaxed and had an extended conversation with us. His bar was out of the way from the usual island traffic, and he was not typically busy at this time of day. He appreciated our patronage and company as he wiped down the tabletops and washed glasses and silverware. Occasionally, he’d break eye contact with my boyfriend and send me a smile. His English was broken at best, and my Greek was virtually undeveloped.

When we had rested adequately, we gathered our belongings and planned to head down to the nearest beach to set up for the rest of the day, possibly until the next day. But the bartender interrupted us and told my boyfriend that he knew the whole island was sold out, but he had a friend who was constructing a new place that would be available for rent soon. He gave us this gentleman's phone number and went further by calling the friend from his bar, handing the receiver to my boyfriend.

My boyfriend spoke to the person on the phone, who confirmed they were building a new place they planned to rent. Even though it wasn't finished yet, they offered it to us as shelter for $20 a night. That may not sound enticing to many, but I was elated! Not sleeping on the beach? Yes, please.

We had to walk about a mile to get there, and it was in a remote area of the island, but there was a small grocery store nearby. The bar where we had lunch was also fairly close, along with a few other small hotels and tiny homes. The environment felt like living on another planet—just rock and dirt, with very little vegetation. The middle of the island was beaten down by the white, hot sun, and if grass did grow, it was mostly yellow hay.

The homes resembled little white houses from Star Wars' Tatooine. The Tatooine houses in the film are actually in Tunisia, but the resemblance to the homes I saw on that island in '89 was pretty undeniable. I was incredibly grateful to have a place to rest my head.

When we arrived at the unfinished rental, it was devoid of everything except floors, walls, and a ceiling. There was no completed plumbing, no electricity, no curtains, no beds, and no furniture. But it did have a door and windows that could be locked, and that was good enough. The owner told my boyfriend to take me out for dinner and dancing at the clubs for a few hours, and he would see what he could do to arrange some beds for us.

We followed his advice, and when we returned late that night, there were two twin beds with modest sheets, pillows, and pillowcases. We were over the moon with happiness. The following morning, we got up, went to our bartender friend's place, and ordered breakfast. When we returned, our beds were made, and curtains had been hung on our windows.

We then decided to tour the island. We took a cab into the main town, where we explored the shops, booked a boat tour to the hot springs and the volcano, and visited several other popular sightseeing spots. When we got back to the room for a rest around 5 p.m., the room had electricity, and a mirror had been placed above the sink in the bathroom. Little by little, more blessings were being bestowed upon us.

We rested for a few hours and then went back out to experience the island nightlife. In those days, there were wine bars where patrons would remove their shoes and stomp grapes under disco balls, with disco lights flashing and ABBA playing loudly on the stereo speakers. My boyfriend and I often opted for a quiet dinner at a restaurant that served outdoors on small tables near the sea, or we would go to "the spot" where tourists gathered to watch the famous Santorini sunsets—the Castle of St. Nicholas in Oia.

We returned to our little room after midnight that night. When we did, we found area rugs, running cold water in the bathroom sink, and a toilet that flushed. We celebrated! It felt like we were royalty!

The following day, we got up bright and early and took a cab into the main town for our boat tour. We would be gone all day, swimming, sailing, walking, climbing up to the tops of the craters on Nea Kameni and Paleo Kameni, and sunbathing.

A word about the volcano: it takes a lot of effort to get to the top. My boyfriend was young and strong, but the sun was hot, and he got tired. When we reached the summit, it smelled of rotten eggs—just pure sulfur. Yellow and green smoke swirled around. It hasn't erupted since the 1950s, but it is still an active volcano, and it is also responsible for wiping out the Minoan civilization. I found it hilarious that the graffiti on the rocks as we climbed went from "Jennifer '87!" at the bottom to "F*%$ing Volcano" toward the top of the climb 😂. To this day, my boyfriend (now my husband) still looks back on that climb with regret. I do not. I'm glad for that experience, even if it was just to see smoking, smelly yellow sulfur.

After a day of swimming in the clearest, most mysterious sea and sailing around spectacular sights that many people will never have the good fortune to experience, we returned to our little room, and lo and behold…hot water! We both enjoyed the most sensational showers we had ever had that night before going out for a quiet sit-down dinner at our bartender friend's place.

We spent another two days in that little room, with more amenities added until the very last day. When we left, the owner told my boyfriend that she was grateful to us because our stay motivated her to work faster to complete the renovations and prepare for the opening. We told her how grateful WE were for allowing us to have a place to stay.

The invaluable lessons I learned from this experience were:

1. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Keep going.
2. While you can't trust everyone, there are kind people who want to help those in need.
3. Nothing prepares a couple for married life like an experience like this. If a couple competes on The Amazing Race and loses, but still understands that their relationship is more important than the win, they should feel confident going to the alter.

I learned a few other lessens that pertain to my college degree in International Relations and neighborly behavior on this trip to Santorini. What were they? Tune in next time to find out. 😏

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