the toast club

(In the interest of saving a euro or two, I'm going to forego the editing process. My apologies in advance.)

After travelling for way too long, in front of tall people disabling the reclining function on our seats, we made our arrival in Athens. Dull commentary on the nature of non-pretentious hotels (sigh) aside, [side note: there's American music playing - Justin Timberlake, to be specific - in the internet/geek station right now] we made it to Santorini splendidly.

I was a bit disappointed that the lines everyone had fed us about cloudless skies were lies, but it's been absolutely beautiful nonetheless. The afternoons have cleared off to comfortable temperatures and - low and behold - enough sun for me to burn! We've mostly enjoyed walking around, discovering beaches, shops and endless restaurants. Both last night and tonight we dined at the cliff's edge, overlooking absolutely breathtaking views of the sun setting into the ocean.

Yesterday we walked approximately 8,371 stairs (well, it felt like it. In reality, I think it was closer to 600 - they're numbered, but we didn't check the last stair. Seemed more discouraging than it was worth.) down to the ferry port. There were an inordinate number of donkeys crowding our path, often forcing us to lean flat against the wall, praying we wouldn't get pinned. Mom didn't seem to think riding the donkeys would be enjoyable, but we certainly questioned this decision at every switchback as we played the mad-donkey-dash, running from side to side to avoid being trampled. It was a beautiful walk though. (Really, it was.)

In the midst of our walking, we've happened upon an absolute multitude of churches. They're very curious. Small. I don't think more than 5 - 8 people could fit in most of them, which certainly lends the question, "What are they for?" There are a couple large churches on the island, which I imagine host larger gatherings. Beyond size, the churches are interesting, purely in light of our other European experiences. They're simply decorated - white washed greek buildings, with blue domes and white crosses. We haven't seen the inside of any of them, but based on the icons prominately displayed just about everywhere else in the island, I would presume the interior is an elaborate collection of such decor. The simplicity, in contrast to the Italian basilicas we've become accustomed to, is thought-provoking. I'm sure I'll discuss this more upon my return...

My greek has proven relatively useless, with the execption of one obscure sign I read today, pointing to the holy temple. Neverthless, it's been a thrilling novelty to be able to pronounce the signage and such. So, though useless, there's an element of familiarity in the language that I didn't have in Italy. Again, in contrast to Italy, the lingusitic culture is fascinating. Anything and everything we could possibly need to know is in english. It seems safe to presume that anything in greek only is irrelevant to us. This both makes us feel comfortable and instills a bit of english-speaker guilt in us. It's funny to hear a greek server converse with a swedish speaking couple in english - a language foreign to both parties.

By and large it seems that the greek culture is welcoming to our presence. At times when I want to tiptoe around my nationality and language, it seems embraced. When Italians would have given us a cold stare we're received with open arms. It's a strange challenge to the travel mentality we've been taught - that is, of course, to travel under the guise of Candians. It'll be interesting to see how this changes in both Crete and Athens, as Santorini is certainly a place that survives on tourism.

Enough for now. Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers. Drop us a little comment of American relevance and we'll be glad for a piece of home. We truly wish you were here to experience all this with us!