DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

(I wrote this last September, shortly after returning from Greece. While working to un-lose our luggage, I lost track of this story.)

On the west edge of Ia, a long concrete staircase descends to a port town called Amoudi. By “long” I mean there are about 220 steps. The space between individual steps is sloped too, providing nearly another step’s worth of altitude change. (Here is a picture of the steps from Ia to Amoudi, as seen from our departing ferry.)

It’s a hard walk down, and a lot more work than it seems like it should be. We broke a sweat as we hiked downhill into the late afternoon sun. It was the second time in three days that I’d stopped to rest while going down stairs on Santorini… although the other time I had a 100kg suitcase in each hand.

Our goal: a sunset dinner at one of the tavernas at water’s edge.

We arrived an hour early, warmer than we’d hoped to be and in more dire need of rehydration. Fortunately, the tavernas in Amoudi receive regular donkey-loads of the Greek beer, Mythos. Mythos is pleasantly inexpensive, which is helpful to people enjoying them in quantity.

For dinner, we used the small-plates approach that had been so successful on previous evenings; we ordered one or two mezes (appetizers) at a time, spacing the meal out over 90 minutes. European restaurants never rush diners, so we were able to enjoy a leisurely meal as the sun went down.

Hiking back up the 220 steps after sunset was, curiously, easier than the descent, due to the cooler air. Then on the way home we stopped at one of the pastry shops on the main street of Ia and inhaled a piece of baclava the size of a cantaloupe.