Unspoiled by the crowds

BY BRENDA WEBB

A dramatic landscape, gorgeous villages and magical sunsets fuel the intoxicating mix on the Greek Island of Santorini.

My ouzo-clouded memories of Santorini from 31 years ago include a donkey ride, blue domes atop white buildings, sheer cliffs plunging into an inky-blue sea and a dirt-cheap boarding house with views to die for.

Despite the intervening years, I'm delighted on revisiting to find those memories remarkably accurate.

The poor donkeys are still slogging away taking tourists up the steep steps to Fira, a sumptuous town of whitewashed houses and blue domes clinging precariously to the hillside, a dizzying 260 metres above the Mediterranean Sea. And yes, those views are as spectacular as the ones I captured on film on my tiny Instamatic camera all those years ago.

In fact, the only thing that has changed is my $2 a night boarding house. It is now an upmarket boutique hotel with an infinity pool, smart waiters in black trousers and white shirts and a $1400 a night price tag to match.

Oh, and the crowds. Did I mention the relentless crowds? In 1979, it seemed there was just a handful of motley backpackers from around the world enjoying the scenery, the black-sand beaches and the ouzo.

These days, Santorini is still a popular stop for backpackers, as well as a hot spot for discerning wealthy travellers, a wedding and honeymoon haven for Asians, a mecca for cheap package holidaymakers and a port of call on the Mediterranean cruise ship route.

It's not uncommon to have up to seven ships anchored in the bay at the height of the season.

Such popularity is not surprising, given that Santorini is easily the most scenically spectacular of all the Greek Islands, thanks to its dramatic volcanic background.

A massive eruption in 1650BC blasted out 30 cubic kilometres of magma, causing the centre of the island to collapse and fill with seawater and creating the magnificent landscape that is so instantly recognisable today.

It's Santorini you see on calendars and postcards of the Greek Islands – whitewashed houses, churches with blue domes and knife-edge villages overlooking the inky blue sea.

Just before we sailed to Santorini we met up with Kiwi friends who told us of their Santorini experience. They cunningly visited in November, calculating that with the tourist season over, hotel and restaurant prices would have dropped and they would have the place to themselves.

The tourists had certainly gone but in their place had come workmen and there was not a blue dome in sight. They were all being undercoated with white paint, ready for their shiny blue top coat for next season.

We opted to go in June and got the blue domes, the views and, alas, the crowds. It seems that unless you visit in winter, you can't avoid them, especially in Fira.

After exploring its amazing labyrinth of cobbled streets, we console ourselves by heading to the solitude of our yacht's quiet anchorage in the south of the island off ancient Akoritiri, a Minoan outpost that dates back to 3000 BC.

High season means cheap prices on rental cars, and at $50 a day, we can't resist some inland exploration. We squeeze into the tiniest Hyundai we've ever seen and head off to the relatively deserted south west of the island, driving through the terraced fertile soils intensively planted with fruit, vegetables, olives and grapevines.

We hardly see a soul, just the odd donkey and goat, but that all changes when we head to the east coast where the black volcanic sands are covered in thousands of tourists, with skin tones ranging from pale white (just off the plane) through deep pink, lobster red to mahogany brown (last day of holiday). We linger only long enough for a cooling swim.

With favourable weather forecast, we decide to head to the top of the island to a bay underneath the spectacular town of Oia. Safely moored – it's too deep to anchor – we row ashore and enjoy ouzo on the rocks at a taverna owned by Captain Yiannis, who proudly tells us he has been there for 75 years.

Fuelled by the ouzo, we tackle the 270 steep steps up to the town, in a much slower time than the 20 minutes Captain Yiannis tells us it takes him. With thumping heart rates, we pause at the top to take in our surroundings and admire the views that take our collective breaths away.

Oia is wonderful. The streets are far less crowded than Fira's, there is a distinct lack of overt commercialism and the views are, of course, spectacular. You can't expect anything else on this astonishing island.

As sunset approaches, we follow a stream of people to the northwestern tip of the town where hundreds are gathered. The glowing red ball slowly drops into the sea, causing a roar of delight and resounding applause.

We wander back down those 270 steps in silence. Words seem superfluous in such a setting.

Santorini may have the crowds, but it still has the magic and is a must on any Greek island trip.

- The Marlborough Express