Atlantis
Shana overheard another cruise guest say that Cleopatra’s (Sedir) Island was a waste of time, so I’m glad we chose today to take Thursday off. I have really been looking forward to the Akrotiri excavations and the rest of Santorini, our last cruise destination before returning to port in Piraeus on the mainland.
From my perch on the pool deck I watched the goings on in the Marmaris (Turkey) marina, including several yachts either coming or going. I am in awe of these helmsmen who are able to pull off a Mediterranean mooring. The boat must be stern-to at the dock, no nice finger piers you can just tie up to. And there are no pilings to tie onto so the bow doesn’t swing. So you have to back up while dropping an anchor to keep the bow steady, but not so far back that you crash your rudder into the dock. And you need to have a gangway to exit the boat. Between that and entering port being completely opposite of the rules of the road back home (red right return will run you aground here) I’d have a freakin’ heart attack.
While Steve went back to the marina to ogle more boats after lunch I treated myself to a massage in the ship’s spa, to relieve the stress of thinking about Mediterranean moorings. The spa is a beautifully appointed suite of massage and treatment rooms with their own Thalassotherapy pool, steam room, and tropical showers. My masseuse, Chloe, was a darling girl from somewhere in the UK, and she treated my swollen ankles and sore lower back with kid gloves. I always seem to forget to bring everything I need when I visit a great spa; I should have brought my complete dopp kit but instead ended up sneaking back to the room hoping no one spotted me in complete disarray, vs. looking radiant and freshly coiffed and made up. And why is it the only other person in the locker room is always a twenty-something with 3% body fat and skin the color of cappuccino, with no tan lines? And I’m supposed to disrobe and use the steam room with her? I think not. Four spa towels later I’ve managed to build a Bedouin tent to change in with nary a fingernail exposed.
I’m a sucker for spa products. When Chloe told me this special oil would help with the swollen ankles I was all in.
Cruise ships have interesting storage places as they take advantage of every available space. I found someone’s lost bottle of Visine in an unseen corner of the medicine chest, and on the shelf above the TV someone must have stored (or hidden) their prescription meds, and forgotten them. I looked up to see a vial sliding down the gap between the wall and the TV. It was a generic prescription for Viagra for some guy in New Jersey, an Andrew R. (abbreviating so as not to blow him in if he is hiding his, ahem, condition from his cruising partner). I hope he was going right home because there were quite a few pills in the bottle and losing them could really have put the kibosh on the rest of his trip, not to mention the dent in his wallet.
When we left the ship in Santorini our tender dropped us at an area accessible to vehicles, where our busses climbed through s-curves to the top of the island and across to the excavations. Calliope, our guide, informed us that with little rain and no island water source no vegetation on the island was irrigated, and any crops were grown close to the soil to extract any humidity. She pointed out grapevines grown on the land, each in a wreath shape. With no rain there is no danger of rot from soggy soil. This way of growing produces crops with incredibly intense flavors. The wine they produce and export is a sweet dessert wine called Vin Santo, and their other crops are cherry tomatoes (which we had at lunch – wonderfully sweet and a real concentrated tomato flavor), what she called “fava lentils” (I wondered if they might be either really big lentils or really small favas), and small round zucchini and eggplant.
So, was Atlantis a real place or just a legend with a moral lesson? Plato thought legend. He ended all of his famous Dialogues with a myth, and Atlantis shows up in both Timaeus and Critias as parable about good and bad government. Ultimately you mustn’t love power more than you love the gods. Steve is now quoting Plato when it comes to having our excursion passes and cabin key, which always seems to be an issue for him and require pocket fumbling: “Better to fumble around than not have your ticket”, Plato, according to Sultan Steve.
Some claim Atlantis is history and not legend, that it flourished at the same time as Thera (Santorini), which was destroyed by earthquakes and a cataclysmic volcanic eruption in 1628 BC. In the 1860’s ash was being quarried for the Suez Canal when workmen discovered the remains of an ancient town. But it wasn’t until the 1960’s that Archeologist Spyridon Marinatos of the University of Athens began excavating the site, the ruins now called Akrotiri, under 25 feet of volcanic ash. It was a high Bronze Age civilization, which resembled Minoan Crete. Their architecture was advanced; three to four storied frescoed houses, some with balconies, and public buildings with sophisticated construction, quite elaborate. It was a feminine civilization; they worshipped the goddess of fertility, did not like weapons or depictions of war, had no fortifications, loved jewelry and perfume, made fine fabrics, and their art featured nature, like swallows, octopi, dolphins and palm trees. My kind of place.
Interestingly the archaeologists have determined that after the earthquake the residents of this city evacuated, and probably sent a contingent to see if the place was safe to return. They never did return, and the volcanic eruption that covered the island in ash and pumice (but not hot lava) preserved the city as it was when it had been abandoned. How do they know this? No skeletons, so it seems that no lives were lost to the volcano. They haven’t even found burial grounds yet, nor will they soon. It is said the excavations have exposed one thirtieth of the site, and to unearth the rest could take a century. And the excavations have been halted due to lack of funding. They’ve protected the site with a €40,000,000 ($54,596,000) roof, after their first roof collapsed and killed a British tourist. This roof is actually covered over and planted with trees, so it can’t be seen with the naked eye. But it seems to me that $55 million could have done a lot of excavating.
From Akroteri excavations we went to the castle, a medieval number at the top of the hill with 360-degree views of the caldera, the town of Akroteri and the red beach (which is actually black lava rock). The sight was stunning. The castle’s tower has a lovely musical instrument museum, with wind instruments (including bagpipes). Steve was horrified when he leaned up against a wall and 600-year-old plaster fell off in his hand. We were waiting for the guide to say, “You break it, you bought it.”
From Akroteri we were transported to the city of Fira, which is what one pictures when one pictures Santorini. High up from the sea (1300 feet) and built in and on the cliffs, its whitewashed houses, shops and restaurants attract throngs of tourists daily. The traffic jam on the way into town was proof. We meandered through the Orthodox Church, took photos of the caldera, glanced in shops, and made our way toward the Roman Catholic section on the edge of town where we were able to take even better photos of Fira and the caldera. And have lunch. Irini’s café was built into a cliff with beautiful views from their umbrella’d terrace. We ordered Mythos beer and Alfa draft along with a meze plate of taramosalata (a dip made with fish roe), fire feta (yay!), local cheese, olives and tzatziki. We also got a marinated fish platter, with sardines, bonito, anchovies, and smoked mackerel. And breadsticks and breaky bread. Steve made a sandwich of sardines and anchovies, which he referred to as “sanchovies”. We watched hawks and gulls soar overhead, and sparrows sat by us on the wall waiting for breaky breadcrumbs. And my blue jay swooped past.
While lunching an Asian couple who we guessed were newly married arrived at the restaurant in suit and bridal gown with a photographer and his assistant. Knowing Jeanne would swoon over a potential K-Drama in the making (or hopefully a happily ever after just beginning) we took photos to show her.
We had a great view of the cable cars, our way back to the port where the tenders would ferry us to the ship. The line for the two minute ride was around the block, so when the time came we decided to walk, dodging donkeys for hire transporting tourists up and down the 1300 foot ascent on winding stairway. Donkeys can be fickle beasts, and one carrying an American passenger decided to stop, holding up passage both up and down for everyone on the path. I approached and spoke nicely, even giving the bridle a little tug, but he was having none of it. His master gave a shout in what I guessed must be Greek, and the donkey took off. I told the rider I just didn’t know how to converse with her mount in his native language. It reminded me of the Polish pachyderm in Water for Elephants.
Finally at the bottom, with barking calves and more than my share of sweat, I happily took an ice-cold towel and lemon water from the crew, and we boarded the tender for the short ride to the ship.
We had drinks and dinner with Jeanne, Vic, Victoria, Shana, George and Leo, traded photos with Vic, and bid them “antio” with big hugs and many thanks, as they had an early disembarkation time to catch their ferry to Chios. We were heading to the Hilton for a couple of days in Athens before returning home. As much as I loved the Azamara Quest I’m looking forward to a full sized shower!
