Seeing Fira from the top of the caldera, and looking down at the Aegean far below, is an even more powerful experience than was looking up at it from the ferry. Most of the small city streets are free of cars and barely wide enough to handle two-way pedestrian traffic. My favorite street, which is narrow enough to be called a path, traces along the edge of the caldera for several kilometers. Homes, restaurants, and hotels line this street, and all have extraordinary views. Fira’s white buildings, brightly painted doors, and overflowing baskets of flowers make this a unique spot.

(Excerpt from my book, The Artist on the Road: Impressions of Greece)

After many hours at sea, with two quick stops along the way, my excitement builds as Santorini comes into view. Passengers with cameras gather in anticipation on the port side of the ferry. We also ready our cameras and find a good spot along the railing. At first, Santorini looks like many other shallow islands we’ve seen pushing up from the sea. But when we get closer, I see a mountain looming large on the far side. Where the land meets the sea, sharp cliffs rise up a thousand feet into the blue sky. This is the caldera, where the central part of the volcano broke off and collapsed into the Aegean. Striations of colored rock, stone, sediment, and lava make the island a lopsided layer cake. As we ferry closer, the white city of Oia covers the top like frosting. The city contains no storied buildings and gathers close to the earth to avoid slipping off the caldera.

As we sail into the center of the five volcanic islands that make up Santorini, the top of the caldera rises above us. Quarter-moon shaped Thera is the largest of the islands. The city of Fira comes into view and I’m amazed that it’s so high up. The famous switchback trail, which takes travelers by donkey to and from the port below, is visible snaking along the cliff.

I’m glad we’ve finally arrived. I feel as though I’ve been out at sea a week. The ferry spins around, as it did in Naxos, and backs into to the port. We dock at Athinios and stand on the aft deck watching the gangway lower. During the boat ride, we scoured our travel guides for lodging and chose four possibilities. Pension Petros is the most promising, but we’ll be satisfied just to have a roof over our heads tonight. We certainly don’t want a repeat of our problems upon our arrival in Athens.

Our guidebooks say it’s possible to take the donkey caravan up the switchbacks to the top, but we don’t think much of that idea. Many proprietors are at the dock holding up handwritten signs for their hotels and pensions. We look for anything referencing Pension Petros, and finally see a middle-aged man holding up a sign for the place. He is, in fact, Mr. Petros himself. We get into his van, and he drives us up the switchbacks along the side of the caldera to Fira and Pension Petros. Along the way, I notice how Santorini, with its white buildings and blue-domed churches, differs from Attica.

In Classical Greece, Brauron was a school for girls, many of whom came from Athens. Several columns of its stoa are still standing, surrounded by a manicured lawn. At the far end of the site, I notice a gardener, just finishing his lunch under a tree, as he stands up to begin raking leaves.

After walking through the site once, I choose a place on the far side, looking back toward the entrance, set up my chair, and prepare to draw. This location is perfect, not only for its view of the ruins, but also because of the large shade tree. After baking in Delphi’s sun all day yesterday, a little shade sounds good.

While in the town of Thebes, I notice a nearby coffee shop with an older man in the back and a young girl working the counter. I could use a good cup of coffee. As we enter the shop, I nod to a couple of Greek men drinking coffee and chatting it up on a couch in the corner. I walk up to the girl at the counter, say hello, and politely ask in English for a cup of coffee-to-go, but unfortunately, she doesn’t understand me. This is the first time since I’ve been in Greece and encountered a language barrier. I suspect it happens often when traveling off the beaten path. With a few smiles and gestures, I’m able to communicate my order, or at least I think I have. Instead of the coffee-to-go I requested, I actually get an espresso-to-stay. I probably look a little surprised when she hands it to me, but I smile and thank her. Ah well, my fault for not speaking Greek. It’s a delicious espresso with an almost sweet, nutty flavor and includes a glass of water with a little piece of chocolate on the side. This break offers a moment to pause during this busy day, stay off the crowded streets, and slow down enough to enjoy the moment with a luscious, rich, and foamy espresso.

We rise before daybreak, and with our eyes half open, pack our bags. Within minutes of waking, we drop off our room key and walk out the door, missing our free breakfast. Our car is parked just outside of town, and with the lack of light, we have difficulty finding it. But once we locate the car, we load it with the help of starlight burning brightly above.