Path To Oia

So, as promised, we rose early and set out on the path to Oia. It was a rocky footpath from our accommodation at Imerovigli, skirting around the caldera with stunning views all the way. We had water, electrolytes, food and flares, but we made it in 2 hours 15 minutes. For the first hour we were the only couple on the trail, then came the early morning joggers followed by more standard tourists.

On arrival in Oia at 8:30 we were pretty much alone. We found the most wonderful cafe with a panoramic view across the caldera, as well as gorgeous food and a much needed coffee. Looking down we saw drone boats heading to Oia marina and on exiting the cafe Oia was full. They all had sticky labels on their clothing with different colours and numbers. I felt like making a loud announcement “Would all the workers who arrived in drone tender yellow 24, please return immediately as it’s about to head back to the hive”. Our attempt to move further into town, which was absolutely stunning in its beauty, were blocked by numbered humans all trying to take photos of the same things.

We found a small bar/cafe and after a while even managed a seat at the front of the balcony. Sue ordered the fresh lemon juice. “You don’t want that” the waiter said “it’s very bitter, I don’t like it”. A compromise was reached when Sue finally agreed to let him put some sugar syrup in it. We were joined by a lovely young couple from New York on their honeymoon. They were struggling to order coffee and Sue overheard the waiter explaining the different coffee types, including Nescafé. Sue was ready to spring in and explain what this would be like to the couple, but fortunately heard the young women ordering an iced coffee.

Getting up from this second cafe was no mean feat. After some more browsing around we headed for the square to get the local bus back to Imerovigli. On moving through the square we were passed at speed by a Greek couple, so I ducked in behind them with a sense that they looked very much like a couple hurrying for a bus. There it was, with a small gathering outside. “Where to” a man asked abruptly. “Imerovigli, please”. “No, Fira only, No buses to Imerovigli, apart from Fira Bus Station”. So we get in and it leaves. About half an hour later, we are in the Bus Station. In the Greek style the doors open about 3 minutes after we stop. I ask a man selling tickets “Imerovigli” and he points over his shoulder to a smaller bus, but as I look it’s already moving out of the bus station. He realises and says “sorry, another 20 minutes”. So we move to benches in the shade to wait.

This gives us an opportunity to study life in a Greek bus terminal. This involves a lot of confused milling about. Mostly in the area where the buses arrive and leave. This seems to be accepted as a norm by everyone involved, although to us watching, it seems to be a near death experience, with bodies flowing out from in front of buses like the wake from a boat.

After 15 minutes we make further enquires and both discover we now have another 20 minutes to wait as the next bus is now at 1:00. We had a time table that said the next bus was 12:30, but apparently not. We looked confused, but then I pointed out that there were about 50 people in the terminal and they all looked confused, including those that were obviously staff.

Finally, we got on the number 29 bus and slowly pulled out, behind another bus. At the first junction, a tiny white rental car slipped in between the two buses, which our driver took offence at, at this point he also took a call on his mobile. I don’t speak Greek, but I’m pretty sure he was letting the caller know what he thought of toutists in rental cars. Driving one handed, even less than that, when gesticulating, he proceeds slowly through Fira hooting at the rental car from 6 inches away. Just outside of the town a queue of traffic was passing an accident. The police were controlling several merging lines, but when we were waved on, our driver lowers his window to discuss the accident with the minibus driver who had crashed. This earned him a blast on his whistle by the policeman, who was waving for him to unblock the road. Our driver came out with what sounded like a lot of abuse for the policeman, at which point Sue laughed. He gave her a big smile assuming Sue’s laugh had been in appreciation of his comments, rather than something more along the lines of fear for her own life.