Santorini - Day 3-4

For pics that go along with Day 3-4, click here.

Woke to the usual tricks: juice, coffee, and carbs by the pool. Dodge and Sophia had a meeting and left most of us to our own designs today. Since we have precious little direction, we were all thankful with John, resident expert, whips out his bad brain and convinces us that we need to pile in the car and go see us some old stuff.

Oia, our beloved town, is on the northern tip of the island. About 15-minutes down the Greek response to the Pacific Coast Highway is Fira, the largest city on Santorini. Head east from there, and you hit Kamari and the famous Black Beach — a whole beach of volcanic sand. Not terribly comfortable on the feet, but bizarrely hypnotic to behold. That, and it’s a topless beach. Actually I think all the beaches are topless on the island. Nice, in theory, but you know, why is it that it takes 55 years for people to be brave enough to go topless on the beach? Why is that? Anyone?

Above Kamari, like right above, is a set of ruins called Thirassa. Founded by the Ptolemites, Thirassa is a 4,000-year-old network of rubble, early wheels, and assorted holes in the ground. Truth be told, we weren’t there to learn anything, so I have impressively little to report from the trip, but here’s my little realization for the day. We were sitting around the pool with Sophia’s most excellent Greek mom and aunt yesterday night. They were trying to teach us Greek swears to help us get along in-country. While we’re all pretty savvy with language, nothing stuck … nothing but this: when the Greeks get upset with one another on just about any scale, the universal insult is “Fuck your Ancestors”. Spill a glass of water on a stranger? Run over his dog? Either case: “Fuck your Ancestors”. That night at the pool, I found it funny. There, standing in the ruins of 4,000 years of history – ancient history – well, I guess that particular insult carries more weight than just about anything I’ve heard stateside.

We did get some fun pics at the site, though. When we got back to the parking lot to get to the MicroMachine we rented we saw this guy riding his mule to the top of the mountain. He got off, milled about, then entered the site, leaving his mule to do some milling about on his own.

Five minutes later, the mule takes off alone. That’s it. There’s no punchline to that story. The mule takes off, leaving the rider at the top of a mountain in 4,000 years of rock. Somehow, it feels like that’s about all the punchline I need.

The next day we did the rehearsal. Apparently, Sophia’s dad and step-mom (Max and Anne) run a wedding gig in New Mexico and Max agreed to officiate the wedding. Anne drove the show with the best intentions, in doing so manifesting a healthy dose of drama. Downside: Family drama inherent in the system. Upside: the location of this wedding could not be more beautiful. We were there mid-day, standing on a balcony overlooking the bay and the volcano to the west. By wedding-time, sunset in two days, the family drama is sure to evaporate.

After rehearsal, the boys headed out into Fira looking for a leather store. As our groomsmen present, Dodge offered to buy us all these sweet Greek sandals. Took a while to find the store, tons of wandering the back streets, which gave me a great opportunity to shoot some outdoor shots. As we wandered, I held my camera at my side, snapping shots of the locals surreptitiously as we’d pass. Came out with some good shots, I think. Too bad I can’t use them for anything.

In the evening, more pool, more food. We had the rehearsal dinner this evening — pizza and wine on the roof of a local eatery. As the best man, I was honored to be able to do my impression of Dodge buying shoes — easy since we’d spent the afternoon doing just that.

The schtick was actually an homage to Dodge’s brother Ben and friend Raj, neither of whom were able to make it, both of whom were sorely missed. Of course, they were at the top of a list of folks who couldn’t make it to the wedding for one reason or another. Dodge’s dad, Sam, had the fantastic idea of a series of toasts to just that; each of the parents raised a glass to the family not present and then handed it over to me to talk up the groom’s MIA list. Obviously all in the family of In The Buff: Curt, Fireball, Krueger, Turbeau, all the guys.

It was a hard day — missing family. Wish you all could be here.