Perceptions have a lot to answer for. They can blind us to what is really happening, making fools of ourselves in the process.
I had little interest in visiting Santorini. The idea of competing for space with thousands of cruise passengers and paying through the nose for a glass of indifferent Greek wine at a sunset bar colonized by influencers and selfie addicts never appealed to him.
But then a friend who had just returned from this famous volcanic island told me I was being shortsighted. Even out of touch.
He was right. Avoid, of course, July and August, when up to 10,000 day-trippers swarm the place, clogging the narrow streets (there are only 15,000 permanent residents). But leaving Santorini completely is a dereliction of duty for anyone interested in travel.
This is a lovely island, with much more than I had imagined. I tried to explain it to Andreas Makaris, a 73-year-old master potter, but he didn’t speak English. I do not care.
Mark Palmer travels to Santorini, where he settles on the outskirts of Oia, the “whitewashed city where hotels, restaurants and villas cling to the edge of the caldera.”
“Leaving Santorini completely is a dereliction of duty for anyone interested in travelling,” says Mark. Above – the streets of Oia
Andreas and his wife teach ceramics classes in the south of Santorini, where they have lived for 40 years. No words were needed as I guided my fingers and thumbs over the wet clay in an attempt to make a small cup of coffee.
“We’ll mail it to you in three months,” his wife said.
I found this long delay strangely encouraging: a different attitude toward time is one of the pleasures of freeing ourselves from our daily lives.
Also encouraging was the hour we spent visiting the archaeological site of Akrotiri, not far from Andreas’ studio. To my shame, I had never heard of it, but this discovery of a 4,000-year-old Minoan settlement buried under lava after the volcanic eruption 3,600 years ago, which created Santorini as we know it today, is great news.
So is the growing reputation of Santorini wine, with no less than 18 vineyards, some of which produce only a few hundred bottles a year, mainly from the assyrtiko grape and all sold locally.
I loved the way our waiter, as he was about to uncork our bottle of wine at the gorgeous hilltop Metaxi Mas restaurant, pointed out the winery in the valley from which it had come.
Overlooked Treasures: Mark stays at Canaves Epitome. Each of the 53 suites and villas have their own pools (above)
Mark says of the Canaves Epitome: ‘There is a nice sense of space. Bright young people from Athens and Thessaloniki make up the staff. Above: one of the hotel rooms.
I wasn’t prepared for the beaches either. The black sand may put some people off, but the water is gloriously cool and clear. There are beaches lined with taverns, if that’s your thing, or just scramble up the rocks and find a suitable spot to jump off.
I did this on the first day, but struggled to get out again, so I had to swim to the small harbor in Ammoudi Bay and emerge into view of the early diners. I may have taken away the squid.
We were staying at Canaves Epitome on the outskirts of Oia, the whitewashed town where hotels, restaurants and villas cling to the edge of the caldera. Epitome is the latest offering from the Canaves family collection.
This one does not cling to the edge of the crater. Instead, there is a pleasant sense of space, with each of the 53 suites and villas having their own pools and landscaping of the highest standard. The staff is made up of bright young people from Athens and Thessaloniki, all of them very attractive and super efficient.
“This is a lovely island, with so much more than I had imagined,” Mark writes. Above: Ammoudi Bay Harbor
Mark spends an “uplifting” hour exploring the Akrotiri archaeological site
Let’s get to work: Mark makes a cup of coffee with master potter Andreas Makaris
We ate spectacularly well in the two hotel restaurants; The tzatziki at the more casual Omnia is from a different planet to anything you’ll find in your local Waitrose.
Epitome transports guests wherever they wish to travel with the help of a WhatsApp group. One night we were taken to Oia, where we settled into the Canaves Sunday hotel for the daily ritual of watching the sunset, followed by a pilgrimage along the main shopping street. “It rarely rains in Santorini and, if it does, only for ten minutes,” a shopkeeper told us.
The next day it rained heavily from morning to afternoon, but we still took the water taxi across the bay to the Armeni restaurant. Then it was time to choose the fish from a huge box that goes around the tables like a barbecue cart.
We opted for the sole, cooked in olive oil and lemon, which was remarkably inexpensive. At times, Santorini’s white villages (along with its approximately 500 churches and chapels) look like snow-capped mountains. And I hadn’t realized that there are actually five islands in this archipelago, including the volcano that gave rise to Santorini thousands of years ago.
Over the course of three days I was delighted to repudiate my perceptions of this Greek outpost, and also a little embarrassed by them.