My husband, Matt and I took our first European adventure together last fall. The final stop, on our self-guided two week tour, was to Santorini, Greece – a small picturesque island in the heart of the Aegean Sea.
It is customary in my “culture” (self-diagnosed culture: anal-retentive, non-spontaneous) to plan every moment of every trip. Because I infrequently find myself in Greece, I wanted to make sure we got to do everything we wanted to do and see everything we wanted to see. This trip was different for me though.
I didn’t plan anything.
We hoisted our chins off the ground at the jaw-dropping beauty.
We experienced Santorini like locals.
When our ferry arrived at the Port of Santorini I didn’t even know how we were going to get to the hotel. We were so casually persuaded to rent a car, we didn’t even know we were doing it until we were given a drawing (no maps necessary with one road on the island) of Santorini. The thought of driving in Greece terrified me because of the switchbacks, hairpin turns and general disregard for anyone else on the road, but what was more terrifying, was the thought of being a passenger in a taxi or a bus – I had images of us in head-on collisions, flying around the backseat with two non-functioning seatbelts or of our tour bus tumbling, in slow-motion, down the side of the cliff, into the sparkling Aegean Sea. While, a poetic way to die, I wasn’t ready yet.
The car was the perfect way to go.
My dad will cringe when he sees this photo (a GM owner through and through) but it gave us the freedom we needed to get the feel of this part of Greece.
Every photo tells a story – I think they are worth approximately 1000 words. No need for that today. Photos of ordinary days, moments, people in an extraordinary setting.
It made me wonder if people from Santorini see the beauty, the paradise they are privy to, day in and out or if they appreciate it every single day. Are their Mondays like ours? Do they struggle with deadlines, crazy coworkers, and frustrating bosses? Do their cars run out of gas, alarm clocks fail to sound? Do they wake up on the wrong side of the bed? I wonder if it’s possible to have a case of the Mondays in Santorini and that of course begs the question – what sort of beauty am I missing because of my Mondays?