O is for Oia

Oia is perched on the edges of the caldera

There are some places in the world that you dream about visiting; where a single picture  produces a sigh of yearning.  For me, the Greek island of Santorini has always been one of those places, and was therefore a compulsory stop on our trip last year to the eastern Mediterranean.  The photographs of the white-washed buildings, the blue church domes, and the sea and sky merging in the background have always produced in me an intense longing.  Those famous photographs are of the town of Oia (pronounced Ee-ah), perched high on the cliffs of the collapsed caldera, the remnants of a volcanic explosion.

Now, having visited Oia, I still sigh at the photographs, but I can also smile and remember.  The yearning still remains  – though not as strong – and so I have added the town to my list of places where I would like to spend a month or two one day, simply to write, read, relax, and enjoy.  Though preferably not in the heat of summer.

I will let the pictures speak for themselves:

Private churches – erected by families to saints to protect their seafaring loved ones – abound in Santorini.

Even a local bar – with refreshing cool drinks – had spectacular views.

Windmills were traditional, but are now quaint houses

The ubiquitous blue domes of Oia

Oia from the main town of Thera.