You know how some blog posts just pour from your mind fully formed, you hit the keyboard and there it is in front of you. You also know those blog posts that just won’t happen. You know what you want to write about, you know how it needs to go down on the page but for some inexplicable reason it just won’t happen.
Well, this post is one of the latter. I’ve been trying to write a post on Santorini since I first started this blog almost a year ago (hard to imagine I’ve been doing this for nearly 12 months now). I knew what I wanted to say, about the island and its history, but for some reason I just couldn’t put it together.
I still can’t but I’m waiting no longer, I’ll give you the shortened version of what I’ve been trying to compose all these months.
For years Santorini was at the top of my ‘to do – eventually’ list.
During my forties and fifties, while studying Ancient History for my degree, I’d learnt all about the history of the island. I’d studied the Minoan civilisation and seen the pictures of the magnificent wall paintings that had survived from that time, I’d learnt about the eruption of the volcano, one of the largest volcanic eruptions in recorded history, that destroyed a larger island and created the current caldera, and of course I’d seen the famous photos of this blue and white island in many gift shops.
But at that point in my life a trip to this beautiful Greek island was an unrealistic dream.
Things changed, life moved on and in 2007 I got to sail over that caldera, gazing, speechless, from the rails of the ferry, at the sheer cliffs topped by the capital of the island, Fira, that we were heading for.
Up to this point, nowhere else that I’ve visited has had such a profound effect on me. I’ve been to some wonderful places, seen some brilliant scenery and experienced different cultures but nothing has come close to the emotional effect this place had on me.
There were tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t put into words how I felt. I still don’t think I can.