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Santorini, Page 3 ..

Friday's sunset at Santorini. It was a perfect day.

Saturday turned out to be another story.

It was hazy, and the wind was stronger than usual as today began. Ramona:

It’s Saturday evening. I thought I knew about wind. I grew up in Oklahoma, after all. Wrong!

Now I understand why there are double windows everywhere. I’ve never seen such a gale. It wasn’t this bad when we got up, so we headed off on the scheduled tour

At the first stop, the Profitas Elias Monastery, atop the highest point on the island, the wind began to get serious.

Nevertheless, we pushed on to the ruins of the ancient city of Akrotiri, which, they told us, were under cover. The people who lived there were Minoans. In the 16^th century B.C., when the enormous volcano which made up the island erupted, it buried the city beneath tons of ash and pumice. The people had some warning that the volcano would soon explode, because they got the heck out of Dodge. No skeletal remains were found except for those of one pig. Whether the people in fact escaped or were trapped in the immense tidal wave that followed the eruption is anybody’s guess.

The ruins lay undisturbed until the archaeologist Spiros Marinatos, began their excavation in the 1960s. He died in an accident there, and is buried on the site. The digging is still going on.

Only about a third of the city has been uncovered. Nearly twice as old as Pompeii, and in a much better state of preservation, the ruins are an extremely important archaeological discovery.

They were an advanced people for their day. The houses were all connected to a central drainage system. Some homes were two or three stories high. On the upper floor, where the family lived, the walls were often covered with beautiful frescoes, paintings made using all natural dyes.

Under cover or not, the wind continued to blow, whipping great gusts of fine ash into our eyes, our mouths. Dick knew how much I wanted to see Akrotiri, and in spite of having a contact lens blown out of his eye, his patience amid the wailing wind was a beautiful thing to behold.

We drove to the beach, for a lunch by the sea. A swim had been planned, but the waves looked like those that surfers hunt out in Hawaii.

The shrimp were five inches long, but not very tasty. The island specialty, tomato balls, on the other hand, were delicious.

Our last stop was at a winery on the cliff overlooking the sea. The bus was rocking from the wind. It began to roll toward the edge, and a lady screamed, “My god, there’s no driver!” He wasn’t visible, behind the high seats, but before everyone panicked, someone at the front yelled, “He’s here!”

Half the tour members, Dick among them, refused to get off the bus. The other half struggled through the wailing wind for the promise of a free wine tasting. I was in that half. Crouching low and hugging the wall, I inched toward the winery door. Suddenly a woman rushed by me, the wind at her back, her legs churning. She grabbed me for ballast, and was able to stop. Clutching each other, we made it to the winery. I gulped as much wine as they would pour in my glass.

It’s 8:00 P.M. now, and outside it sounds as if a 747 is perched directly overhead. The wind shows no sign of letting up.

"Dick Says"

We're having no luck getting a working phone line. It's now 11:30 Sunday morning here, 3 AM in Houston. The wind is swinging around to the west, right in our face now, and I really have never seen anything like it before. If this isn't a Gulf coast hurricane that's lost its way, it's a splendid imitation.

Actually, these winds aren't unusual. They're just arriving later than usual. They're common in the winter, and the reason so many island dwellers actually spend their winters in Athens.

So, we're having a real adventure. Sorry if this turns out to be a little late. When it finally does cross the ocean, it will arrive in bits and pieces, for sure, for sure ..

P.S. There was no sunset Saturday night.

You might re-visit the top of the page and have another look at Friday's.

(:O)> (:O)