SANTORINI - 11.9.09
Hello from Thira! Well not really, I am back in my hotel room, but it's the thought that counts. Yesterday we made our way to Perivolos and an amazing place called Meteora where we had really lovely Greek food and then free shots afterwords.
Looking exhausted but nonetheless happy.
This morning we woke up bright and early (8.00am) and after the buffet breakfast (adequate - lukewarm milk made it lose a whole load of points), we made our way to the beach, which truthfully I didn't enjoy as much as the other two. Lazing/reading on the beach isn't my style but eventually I started to accept the relaxed way of life (and as a result almost fall asleep).
Posing for pictures at the beach, me and K.
Eventually we left and ended up on an express bus to Thira. (Fun fact, Santorini is about 12 miles long. We live on the South coast. Thira is in the North - it took us about 30 minutes).
Thira is absolutely full of gold. Self explanatory Gold Street is probably the richest street in the whole of Santorini. Gold shop after gold shop after gold shop. And do you know what that means to an Indian? Temptation. Do you know what that means to an Indian on a budget? Irrisistable temptation. Thankfully I didn't spend 1000 Euros on a 18 carat gold vase the size of a small thumb. Though not because of any fibre in me, but because there were two people with me who pulled me away.
But it was tough going for a while, let me tell you!
The views from Thira were amazing.
Then, once we ate some Greek salads, we decided that it was time to bus it back home. (especially since it was pouring with rain). After an eventful route to the buss which involved fishing for a lost flip flip in The Puddle With No End, we reached the depot.
The bus journey home was pure torture. The bus driver's favourite song of the moment is obviously an 80s power ballad, with the lyrics 'listen to your heart, there's nothing to say' (or summat like that - I have blocked a lot of that journey out.)
He loved it so much that he played it constantly throughout the journey home. The first time was painful but by the fifth time I wanted to scratch my own heart out and throw it at the driver, the hope being that he might listen to it. By the tenth time I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life listening to this song, and was finiding that it was growing on me.
And that scared me shitless. When we finally reached our stop, I ran out of the bus.
Now after a shower, we are sitting in our room enjoying the silence. Well I would if the two of them just SHUT UP!
They didn't until they fell asleep. PAH
Looking exhausted but nonetheless happy.
This morning we woke up bright and early (8.00am) and after the buffet breakfast (adequate - lukewarm milk made it lose a whole load of points), we made our way to the beach, which truthfully I didn't enjoy as much as the other two. Lazing/reading on the beach isn't my style but eventually I started to accept the relaxed way of life (and as a result almost fall asleep).
Posing for pictures at the beach, me and K.
Eventually we left and ended up on an express bus to Thira. (Fun fact, Santorini is about 12 miles long. We live on the South coast. Thira is in the North - it took us about 30 minutes).
Thira is absolutely full of gold. Self explanatory Gold Street is probably the richest street in the whole of Santorini. Gold shop after gold shop after gold shop. And do you know what that means to an Indian? Temptation. Do you know what that means to an Indian on a budget? Irrisistable temptation. Thankfully I didn't spend 1000 Euros on a 18 carat gold vase the size of a small thumb. Though not because of any fibre in me, but because there were two people with me who pulled me away.
But it was tough going for a while, let me tell you!
The views from Thira were amazing.
Then, once we ate some Greek salads, we decided that it was time to bus it back home. (especially since it was pouring with rain). After an eventful route to the buss which involved fishing for a lost flip flip in The Puddle With No End, we reached the depot.
The bus journey home was pure torture. The bus driver's favourite song of the moment is obviously an 80s power ballad, with the lyrics 'listen to your heart, there's nothing to say' (or summat like that - I have blocked a lot of that journey out.)
He loved it so much that he played it constantly throughout the journey home. The first time was painful but by the fifth time I wanted to scratch my own heart out and throw it at the driver, the hope being that he might listen to it. By the tenth time I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life listening to this song, and was finiding that it was growing on me.
And that scared me shitless. When we finally reached our stop, I ran out of the bus.
Now after a shower, we are sitting in our room enjoying the silence. Well I would if the two of them just SHUT UP!
They didn't until they fell asleep. PAH