The Caldera Trail
Fira to Oia: 6.27 miles; 987 feet ascent (10.1 km; 301 m)
Our driver dropped us off at near Hotel Atlantis, where the trail starts.
This trail runs from the capital city, Fira, to Oia at the northwestern tip. It runs along the top of the caldera, the depression that formed when the volcano erupted and then collapsed all those years ago. The island in the middle of the caldera is actively growing as volcanic pressures push upwards. It will grow and grow until the next time Santorini explodes.
The caldera trail might be the very best way to really see the structure of Santorini.
The trail starts in the town of Fira. We walked on the cobblestoned path past endless souvenir shops and sea-view tavernas and bars.
This path took us to the next town, Imerovigli, without really leaving development.
As we approached Skaros Rock, we passed a Flying Dress photoshoot on a white rooftop. Perhaps you’re unfamiliar with this genre of photography, which involves posing a woman against some scenic background. She’s attired in a monochrome dress (red, blue, yellow, orange, occasionally white) with a huge skirt that appears to be billowing behind her like a sail in a strong breeze. The secret is the assistants, who stand out of view lofting the skirt so it appears to be flying. Sort of. The illusion is somewhat lessened by the fact that the “wind” doesn’t touch the subject’s hair, which remains perfectly stationary and coiffed.
The Santorini tourism architectural aesthetic was clear and consistant: Cycladic buildings, whitewash, and blue roofs, structures that look like caves, and water features absolutely everywhere. All hotels have a swimming pool, and most individual units have their own private hot tubs.
I’d expected to see lots of places to stop for refreshments; in the rest of Greece, you can’t go ten feet without running into a taverna or minimarket. Not so in Santorini! Or at least not on our trail. We didn’t want to stop in the bigger towns because the prices seemed outrageous to our eyes, accustomed to normal Greece as we were. But once we left the towns, there was nothing. Well, not nothing, but just hotels that didn’t look like they were open to ordinary passersby, or with restaurants with prices that might be in line in Dubai or Tokyo (€12 for a horiatiki?).
Chris got grumpy. [Yes, I did. — Chris.]
The first available food we saw was after a good 90 minutes of walking–a fruit vendor selling his wares out of his car just below the church of Profitis Ilias. We spent €20 on a few peaches (some iffy), some cut-up watermelon, and a bunch of grapes and ate them on the church patio.
This was where the trail became an actual trail, as opposed to a cobbled or paved sidewalk.It was as dusty as any Greek trail, and had the added fun of the dust being black–remember, Santorini is an old volcano! Some bits of trail are completely washed out, and others are very rough and loose. Don’t try this in fancy shoes!
We spotted a little side-of-the-road snack bar just before the last big hill. Mirabile dictu, it was open.
The last section to Oia is the most wild-looking, though it was still far from deserted. Chris flew the drone some here, but even here it was hard to keep people out of the shots.
Oia finally came into view.
The hike took us about four hours to complete. It is NOT an easy walk. There is some serious climbing, some rough terrain, and lots of sun exposure. We finished hot, sweaty, and very dirty, too; that volcanic dust is everywhere. It was hot enough in October, and would be blistering in full summer. There are not nearly as many places to get drinks or bathrooms as I expected to find in such a touristic area. While we saw plenty of people walking in light sandals and sundresses, it’s worth taking this seriously and wearing actual walking footwear.
That being said, the scenery was spectacular and it really did give us a great idea of how the island is set up. If you have the time and energy, it’s well worth doing some or all of the hike from Fira to Oia or vice versa.
Oia
Oia itself didn’t especially appeal. We don’t need expensive clothes or works of art, and it was too early for a famous sunset. I’m sure the Cycladic architecture is charming, and the restaurants down at Ammoudi Bay sound lovely, but we’d walked far enough and we still had no idea how we’d get back to Megalochori. It now seemed that a bus might even be impossible; we could probably get one to Fira, but we’d be too late to continue on to Megalochori on a different bus.
There was also the matter of dinner. We had such a lovely balcony in Megalochori, it would be a shame not to dine there, but what would we eat? We hadn’t found a grocery store in our own town.
We ate a quick lunch at a modest-looking seafood taverna.
Fortified, we solved the dinner problem by buying supplies in a little supermarket—local sausages are almost always available, and along with a couple of tomatoes and cucumbers, some fruit, and a bar of chocolate, all make for a fine balcony-dinner. These stores always have a decent drink supply too, including local wine in plastic bottles.
We solved the transportation problem with money. A local taxi company wasn’t very busy in early afternoon, so it would be no problem to send a driver to the other end of the island. For fifty euros. Sure, whatever.
Our driver drove us south along the eastern road, which goes through the low-lying part of the island on the far side of the crater. He was from Thessaloniki. He works in Santorini from mid-March through mid-November, and then returns home to work in his family’s business during the winter.
Evening at home
Our driver ventured briefly down the main road into Megalochori, but quickly decided his minivan wouldn’t make it through. We concurred.
Back in Casa Alta, we made use of our hot tub and chilled. Dinner on the balcony was a genius move!
