To begin at the beginning, with our oddly-sequenced outward journey taking us overnight to Lisbon, then Rome (where I managed to fit in a work call perched at the check-in desk), then Santorini many in-flight films and very little sleep later - we checked into the Daedalus Hotel near Thira and were immediately whisked off to a wine bar terrace hewn into the very rock of Stone'enge, for a local wine-tasting session and nibbles as the sun set and the drones flew over the picturesque kaldera and volcano.
Unfortunately we had to call it a night early on due to jetlag and general debilitation, but we were up bright and early the next day to explore the ice cream shops of the old town, and get bussed off en masse to a secluded beach bar for endless pina coladas, photoshoots, Greek dancing and the occasional dip in the Med. The rest of the day is a little hazy but we did attempt about thirty minutes of clubbing, which was more than enough for us. Sadly there was no time for a trip to the intriguingly-signposted "Industrial Tomato Museum" - maybe next time.
On Friday the hosts pulled out all the stops, and after a gyro or two we were hurled down a twisty-turny path to the sea, where we boarded what I'm pretty sure was a pirate ship for a cruise around the kaldera, complete with open bar and grub, matching swimsuits and caps, blaring funk music and general revelry. Had a paddle near the volcanic rocks, went to a remote island to eat an entire fish which had obviously just been plucked from the sea and grilled in front of all its mates, watched the sunset from the north side of the island, and headed back to freshen up by the pool, have a quick walk round town and collapse at the hotel ahead of the big day.
Having got all dolled up, we were shuttled along with lots of other fancily-dressed folk to a square in Oia with a stunning view of the bay, and crammed into a tiny church to witness an amazing, dreamlike wedding ceremony delivered entirely in Greek by a Friar Tuck-esque character in Orthodox robes (plus an interlude in English about the man leading the woman as Christ led the church, which I prefer to pretend didn't happen).
After the bride and groom had swapped laurels and waltzed around the altar, we greeted them outside with barrages of rice, bazouki-playing and much hugging and weeping. Then we were all shipped off to a very swish restaurant across the island for the reception, which went straight to the waltzing and plate-smashing stage, and only escalated from there with amazing food, drink, toasts, dancing and finally a snooze by the toilets as things got a little bit too much around 5am. Hell of a wedding!
We were up early the next morning to check out of one hotel and move to the one next door for one day only, owing to a prior arrangement which seemed a bit silly in hindsight but at least allowed us time to hit the town to buy knick-knacks and food before check-in. Then after a quick nap we went for one last wander round Thira, down to the old port and back via cable car (and not by donkey, as one persistent donkey-merchant would have had it), and on to a fancy restaurant for farewell salad, before it suddenly got very cold and we rushed back to the hotel for a few hour's kip.
We were up before we went to bed this morning, to fly to Rome and make the most of an 8-hour stopover by hitting the town and cramming in as much sightseeing as we could, sleep deprivation and intense heat notwithstanding. We took in the Coliseum, the Piazza de Venezia and the Trevi Fountain in record time, before hitting St. Peter's Square and hanging out with the Pope for an encore. Having gorged on pasta we headed back to the station and on to the airport, where we eventually made our way to Split and a lovely little flat near the old town, which we are off out now to explore, having washed and hydrated our way back to relative normality.
I'm sure there's plenty I've forgotten but it's all been a bit mad, in a good way - tomorrow we're off to the Plitvice Lakes at dawn, followed by island-hopping on Wednesday and a ferry to Italy for more food and frolics. I'll try and send some pics through - Ridaut's GoPro is working wonders so far - but you're best off following Gaby on Facebook or Instagram for all the latest shots. In the meantime, here's a compilation (guest-curated this week by the trendy folks doing Vueling's in-flight music...), and a Greek word which apparently can't be translated, so I've bastardised it into the Anglo-Portuguese "feelótimo" = "feel-good". Seems to sum up our trip so far!
See you soon for fun under the Tuscan sun,
Club Fred
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