Sunsets and donkey ass-hair

You would be fair in wondering why my sudden fascination in animal genitalia. Rest assured it is not a deliberate trend, but rather a very accidental one. Although as I type a cat is rubbing itself against my leg...

My last full day in Santorini was to be spend on a full day tour of the volcano and thermal springs just off coast of Santorini, followed by watching the sunset at an absurdly picturesque little village called Oia. I was looking forward to it, but the day began very warm, and due to a few last minute chores, I turned up to the meeting spot for the bus sweating profusely. This was to be the trend for the day.

We boarded a boat, along with apparently half the population of America and Australia. It was rammed, and there didn't seem to be enough seats to accommodate the crowds, especially not seating in the shade. So I sat in the sun, fanning myself hysterically, wondering why the boat didn't sail off rather than sit in dock as more and more people were crammed onto the small vessel. Eventually we set off, and landed on the shores of the top of an underwater volcano that can created the island of Santorini and a few other scattered islets.

The caldera (such is the name for these types of volcano tips) was visually stunning close up. Imagine you were Frodo approaching Mordor, with its violently black craggy path and crazy large sharp rocks all around you. The heat was incredible, and we trekked up to the top of the volcano sweating rivers. Worthwhile view though - from the top you could see the western coast of Santorini, impossibly sheer black cliffs capped with white-housed villages that looked like snow-capped mountain tops from a distance.

From there we were taken, sweatily and congestedly, to the 'thermal springs'. I put this in inverted commas as I think a marketeer working out how to pad out the daily tour with interesting sights thought, "Oh yes, tourists would love to swim into tepid orange water that stank of sulpur in the name of fun!". It wasn't great, and just left a rusty stain on our bodies. After our swim, we were all herded back on board, wet, sticky, hot and sweaty, to sit in the sun side by side again for another long and hot boat ride.

From there we were taken to the port of Oia where we disembarked and queued up (in the heat) for a donkey to ascend the torturous road up to the village on the top of the sheer cliff face. The ride up on the donkey was wonderful fun, as the ass cantered up the thin rocky path right on the edge of a sheer drop down to the ocean far below. However, my donkey was a little too enthusiastic, choosing to try and overtake other donkeys, but clumsily only resulting in making my knees rub up against the bottoms of the other donkeys. My sweaty legs proved a welcome sticking pad for many hairs from the donkeys bottom, or, if you will, the ass' ass.

And for some reason, the donkey ride to Oia only took you half way up, so we still had to plod on (in the heat) to the village. Once there, I managed to stub my big toe so badly it began to bleed profusely. I must have looked a state: red, sweaty, smelly, hairy, bloody, and reeking distinctly of eau de donkey. Needless to say, I was not overjoyed at the state of my body.

But of course, the day was not over: I had sunset to watch. The thing to do in Santorini is to watch the sunset at Oia. With its artistically architectured housing, westerly facing aspect, and peaceful ambience, its the perfect place to watch a sunset. But I was torn. I love to watch sunsets, but preferably when I am clean and well-kempt. With forbearance, I sat myself down on an old fort on the tip of Oia, and tried to not breathe in through my nose or look down at my toes while the sun sank slowly into the sea. It was breathtakingly beautiful of course. The golden light bounced off the white paint on the village housing, making the scene glow like some vision of a city in paradise. I managed to forget my earthly woes, and dived into the splendour before me.

Just want to add a special note of thanks to Sian for joining me on my Santorini jaunt. She was the most entertaining, delightful, amusing friend to have on holidays, and it will be a long time before I forget our experiences with evil hoteliers, insane russian gardeners with their chinese burns, the greek definition of 500 metres, and baked feta cheese.