Naxos and Santorini

We arrived on Naxos on Monday afternoon.  Naxos is the largest of the Cycladic islands, and the only one with high enough mountains to create any weather beyond "brilliantly blue and cloudless," so it's a bit greener than its fellows.  In the thirteenth century it was the seat of a Venetian duchy which ruled the Aegean Sea, and then in 1912 Strauss set an opera here (Ariadne auf Naxos), and that's about it in terms of the world stage.  Today, it's billed as a "family friendly vacation island," which is fair.  It's actually kind of perfect: great beaches and beach towns which are live enough to be fun and interesting, but not so tacky or overcrowded to be off-putting (Outer Banks, I'm looking in your direction).  As cool as it may sound, you don't actually want to go to some tiny backwater Greek island and sit every evening in its one taverna with a few surly old Greek dudes wondering why women are suddenly there.  Naxos isn't that.  But it's also not Mykonos, with its legions of oiled-up himbos drinking $25 Jagerbombs and grinding to Eurotechno (aka "boots and cats" music, lol) around the clock.  Naxos is kind of in the middle: it's for sure got something going on, but there's tons of families to balance out any extremes.  And those families seem to be from all over the world, which is interesting in itself.  James and Juliet made friends with some Scandinavian kids at the beach and some Italian ones at the hotel pool.  But it's also got lots of nature and history and ruins, and old churches and other cool stuff, too.  To Naxos!

Our arrival on Monday and car rental pickup went smoothly, and soon we were zipping, winding, haltingly jerking our way through the labyrinthine streets of Hora, the island's capital where we rented our car.  It seems pretty much every Greek island's main town is called "Hora," which turns out means "town."  Hora, like all Greek Horas, has no sidewalks, so you're dodging people as well as making tight turns, and it's all quite manic.  But we made it the 20 minutes without incident to our beachside village of Agios Prokopios where we're staying.  Our hotel is quaint, and the teenager working at the desk--surely the daughter of the owner (also working the desk)--was full of pride showing us to our room.  We have two bedrooms, one of which has a little kitchenette in it, and not one, but two little balconies, one of which overlooks the pool.  And all for like less than $150/night.  The kids even managed to squeeze in some time in the cold-ass pool before dinner (side note: the pools in Greece seem to be cold, as a rule.  Is this because for the Greeks they function as pools are intended?  As a cool-off from the endless burning sun, rather than as a field of athletic contest or a playplace?  It's my theory.)

The (cold) pool

On Tuesday, we got up early and boarded a boat for Santorini.  It wasn't ideal that we just ghosted Naxos pretty much as soon as we got there, but Tuesday was the only day the day trip was available.  It turns out, a day trip is really all you need to visit Santorini.  It is a place of unimaginable beauty.  Basically just the remnants of the caldera from one of the largest volcanic explosions in human history, the island's few towns sit teetering precariously on the edge of 1,000 foot sea cliffs, gleaming white against the dark reds and browns of the volcanic tuff.  There's a definite Grand Canyon, "am I really seeing this?" kind of surrealness.  At one point in Santorini's history, one imagines, its villages were actually Greek, and subsisted on fishing, agriculture and general handicraftsmenship.  Sadly, any trace of real actual Greece is long gone, replaced by an unending assault of alternatively expensive and cheap-ass souvenir shoppes and jewelry botiques.  The nature remains stunning, no notes.  But there is no culture, and almost no one doing real people things.  Indeed, almost literally every square inch of shade has been monetized (it doesn't help that Greek architecture universally eschews eaves), meaning that as you walk along baking in the relentless southern Mediterranean sun, you cannot hide yourself in any patch shade that isn't already claimed by someone who has set up in it a bar or bodega or rickety little costume jewelry stand.  We wandered mostly uphill  to a very pictureesque spot where we took some to-die-for snappers o one of those blue-roofed churches.  Have a gander:

We also got a look in both the Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox cathedrals, which were rare spots of respite from the sun and relentless capitalist exploitation.  Walking back down, we jostled with the hundred-some-odd thousand waddling cruise ship passengers who'd taken long-enough breaks from their food troughs to be disgorged up into town.  I actually kind of loved coming to Santorini because the views were worth it, and I left secure in the knowledge that I never, ever want to come back.

Wednesday was the low-key beach we needed.  Longtime readers of the blog will undoubtedly remember my comprehensive beach rating system (which can be found here: https://gholsontravels.blogspot.com/2018/04/we-arrived-back-in-kailua-kona-monday.html).  How does our beach at Agios Prokopios stack up according to that scale?  Sand: 6 (certainly not Caribbean sand, not even Florida sand, but very good for Europe.  Golden, slightly course.  I've seen much worse).  Availability: 5.  It's a summer place, maybe into early fall, but the water would be far too cold for swimming earlier or later.  Accessibility: 8.  It's a short stroll from our hotel, and right off the main road, but sidewalk-averse Greece makes driving anywhere in these parts trepidatious.  Swimability: 5.  Almost no surf whatsoever.  Easy to swim in, but surprisingly cooold water.  69 degrees at the end of June?  Who knew?  Amenities: 7.  Lotsa great tavernas and restaurants right there.  They'll bring your drinks right to your rented beach chair (you have to rent a beach chair to be at the beach.)  Drinks are meh?  I mean, Greece does beer and ouzo well, not so much margaritas or pina coladas.  Ambiance: 9.  Just a stunner of a beach.  Crystal blue-green water almost rivals the Bahamas or BVI for sheer clarity.  Hoppin' bars and tavernas line the beach.  Folks having a great time, including the leathery octogenarian who,  being well beyond caring about social propriety, stripped off her top and went wading into the ocean to cool off for a spell.  Gross, but full points for gusto.

In the evening, we had a meh dinner at a tourist joint near the beach.  I'll be back shortly with a new report about our adventurous Thursday.  Toodleoo.