One of the Very Cool things about being a writer is that travel can often be research. I learned about the Greek island of Santorini, which might have inspired the legend of Atlantis, when I first read Barbara Michael’s book The Sea King’s Daughter many years ago. Now that I’m a writer myself, I’ve been thinking that the dramatic cliffs of Santorini (also known as Thira) might make a good book setting, so I needed to visit the place.

These boats are taking visitors on a tour of the Santorni caldera. This particular islet is the cinder cone in the center of the old volcano.

If anyone is planning a trip to Greece, may I recommend early in May? We had PERFECT weather--sunny every day (just hot enough to make my floppy hat and grade 36 sun block useful), cool enough at night to justify a jacket or sweater, and not a cloud in the sky. And it was the blooming season, with the hillsides covered with marguerites and other wildflowers. Heavenly!Besides being research, this was also a Sisters' Trip undertaken with my biological sister, Estill, and honorary sister Marianne. We've known each other for several decades, so we got along just fine. (Adulthood is knowing how to give each other space. <g>) So we left our nearest and dearest behind and set off on a chick trip. The flight over via Munich was long and boring and had a passing resemblance to being a sardine in a can, but Athens was worth it. Several people had told me the city was ugly and polluted, but the Plaka, the historic area surrounding the Acropolis where we stayed, was delightful. Plain concrete buildings are made attractive—and very European—with verdant greenery on balconies and roof gardens. The Plaka is full of winding little streets, restaurants, shops, and few cars. (The infamous Athens traffic is mostly not allowed in, though there was a risk of getting popped by a motor scooter.)The Hotel Philippos, where we had reservations, had made a mistake with the dates, but they cheerfully admitted fault and said no problem, we'd get equivalent rooms at their sister hotel just up the hill, same prices for a higher grade hotel. They even grabbed our suitcases and wheeled us up to the next block. The Hotel Herodion was pleasant, and I persisted until they supplied Estill and I with a junior suite like the one we’d booked (so we each have our own space.) It was a pretty little suite, no surprises, until I stepped out on the private balcony—and the Parthenon was right in front of me. Right There. Somewhat above eye level because the Acropolis is high and steep. It was amazing, and well worth viewing at all times of day and night. Which we did. (When we left, the manager said it was the best room in the house.) Note that another advantage of early May is that it was before the busy season, so everything was open but not crowded. Just right!

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Athena's famous owl outside the museum on the Acropolis.

Athens is buzzing with the Olympics coming in 2004. On the plus side, this meant a shiny new airport and other improvements, not all finished. On the downside, things like the National Archeological Museum were closed, to Estill's great regret. (She's been to Athens and Santorini several years ago and functioned as our tour guide, but she did want to see that museum again.)

But there are many other lovely museums, not to mention the joys of Mediterranean cooking. Apart from our first night dinner in a taverna, we didn't eat inside the whole time, and leisurely meals were an essential part of the trip. The formula: Find a cafe with a great view, preferably over the Aegean Sea. Order a Greek salad of ultra fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and feta cheese, and everyone can dive in with forks at once. Rip off chunks of superb Greek bread and dip it in first rate olive oil. (Athens, after all, was named for Athena after she gave the city the olive tree.) Share a large bottle of chilled water, and decide whether you want moussaka or souvlaki or some other tasty main dish. And because this is Greece, think of all this eating as research. <g> Interesting, we didn't overeat, because portions are a reasonable size rather than American humongous. But the longer we stayed, the later dinner became as we succumbed to the pace of Greek life. A particularly nifty new dish was yogurt and honey. Estill said it was delicious, but I was doubtful until I tried it. Darned if she wasn’t right—the cool tang of the yogurt and the thick sweetness of the honey were perfect partners. The hotel restaurants that provided "enhanced Continental" breakfasts always included a big jar of yogurt and a bowl of sweet golden honey. Add chopped walnuts, and you’d have a nice dessert. And it’s even fairly wholesome!After three days in Athens, we flew down to Santorini. With the center blown out by a long ago volcano, Santorini is a crescent-shaped island of sharp cliffs and fabulous views over the caldera, the deep, sea filled center of the ancient volcano. A scattering of "burnt isles" across the caldera add to the spectacular views. It was easy to believe the tales of Atlantis. The best part for me was learning that all those Greek Isles calendars didn't lie—Santorini really is that beautiful. Arid, steep, and stony, Santorini has no trees for building, so traditional structures were made of stone or, these days, concrete. Paint the walls white, mold arches from the concrete, and paint the doors and frames brilliant colors, especially Aegean blue. The result is an island that looks as if it was designed by Disney on a good day, only more authentic because of the individual variations.

The village of Oia on Santorini. The steep volcanic cliff and the blue church domes are characteristic of the island.

The islanders have a genius for placing pots of brilliant cascading flowers or ceramic jugs or other accents that bring the scorching white walls alive. I shot roll after roll of film, and most of the pictures were dynamite simply because everything was so beautiful. (Did I mention that the people are also lovely, English is widely spoken, and it's a very safe country?)

Our Santorini hostelry was the Esperas Traditional Houses—a cluster of lodgings dug out of the soft volcanic rock, like upscale caves. Each of the 20 units is unique, and furnished with Spartan elegance—worn wooden utensils, iron bedsteads, ceramic jugs set in niches and filled with dried flowers, cool tile floors, and irregularly curved walls and ceilings. This is less simplicity than an expensive illusion of simplicity, but it sure was gorgeous! We had two private balconies, and a heart stopping view over the caldera.

A flower-filled wall niche in a restaurant in Fera. This kind of detail was found all over Santorini.

And a zillion steps to climb. A downside of this vacation is that it's not for the faint of heart or weak of knee. It was 45 steps up to the pool and reception area where breakfast was served, and closer to 150 steps up to Oia (Eee-ah), the village where we ate, poked, photographed, and shopped. (The larger town on the island is Fera—that’s where the cruise ships stop.) The first section of steps seemed practically straight up and left us panting and glaze-eyed. And that climb was mild compared to the hikes up to some of the historical sites, like Old Thera and even the Acropolis. On the plus side, the hiking did a good job of counteracting the bread and olive oil! Greece is a major shopping destination, with wonderful reproductions of ancient ceramics and bronzes, not to mentions beautiful artsy wares and zillions of jewelry shops specializing in gold. They carry imaginative, beautiful pieces, all sold by friendly but not obnoxious hucksters willing to reduce the list price by 25% or so. (This allows tourists to think we got a good deal. <G>) I contemplated a designer gold necklace unlike anything I'd seen before, but couldn't see spending that kind of money even if it was a 'bargain.' I saved enough for another trip to Greece.

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A church bell tower in the village of Oia on Santorini

To reward myself for not going for the gold, I bought myself the most amazing hand painted scarf. When researching one of my Asian books, I came across a description of a wedding sari made from silk so light and fine that the entire garment could drawn through a wedding ring. That’s exactly the kind of silk this scarf was made of. I’ve never felt anything like it. The scarf is painted in shades of teal and rust and other autumn colors, and even though it’s the size of a large shawl, it fit through my ring with plenty of room to spare. (Of course I tested it!) I’m not sure how I’ll wear it, but I periodically take the scarf from my wardrobe so I can stroke it. I expected a bit more of a Third World quality to Greece, and perhaps that's the case further off the beaten track. But it felt very much like Europe to me—civilized, sophisticated Europe, where people know how to live and the hotels have direct dial phone lines to the US (at good prices) and we had built-in hairdryers. The European Community has been good to Greece—in proof of which, only one Greek worked at the Esperas Houses. Everyone else came from places like Albania and Romania and Bulgaria and Poland. I was told that the hardest, heaviest work was often done by such Eastern European immigrants, since it was hard to find Greeks for such jobs. The delightful hotel manager was from Holland—and who can blame anyone for coming to the Aegean Isles and never going home? All in all, it was just about a perfect trip, with great company, great sights, and matchless weather. After five days in Santorini, we packed, with Marianne and I heading for home via Athens and Frankfurt and Estill heading for the ferry to spend another week island hopping. (Wave an airline ticket and Estill will follow anyone anywhere. <g>) Our last night in Oia, clouds started to roll in and there were a few spatters of rain the next morning as we ate our last breakfast on our private patio overlooking the caldera. It was time to go home.....

A windmill in Oia on Santorini. The cave houses where we stayed were directly below--about 100 steps down!

MJ at the Acropolis