Pt2 - 10: SANTORINI In my mind we were going to have Santorini all to ourselves, so imagine how pissed off I was to discover other travellers aboard the ferry out of Heraklion, how dare they? I call the Romilda a ferry but, like much of the inter-island traffic, it’s a small cruise ship with a vehicle deck. Sailing conditions were ideal and we spent much of the four hour passage lounging in a booth, conserving our energy for the fabled isle. Fully recovered from Samaria, we were up for it. The approach was spectacular. Sheer cliffs of compressed volcanic ash reared out of the blue Aegean like cross sections of an exotic cake with layers of brown, ochre, red, green and black, all iced with the bright white settlements of Oia, Imerovigli and Thira. We docked about 7:30 as the setting sun cast the sea in bronze. It was like arriving on a movie set. I might have mentioned elsewhere that travelling on the cusp of the season offers considerable benefits, even if sometimes...
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