Capturing Everyday Life on Vacation
30 Sep 2013
A funny thing happened while we were in Greece. Every couple of days, I’d upload my pictures to my laptop and scroll through them, delighting in the bright colors and majestic scenery. But I started to feel like I wasn’t capturing the things I really wanted to remember. We go on vacation for lots of reasons, but one of the primary ones is definitely to pursue the beautiful and the sublime. We want to have those mountain-top experiences and take those perfect pictures, and they’re well worth the time we spend in travel and jet lag. But I didn’t want to lose all those little things that make a place what it is, all the little things I treasure even as they fall through my hands like grains of sand. I know that once I’ve left I can never have them back, and so I set out to capture them. Santorini is shaped like a crescent moon, and the towns along the inside of the caldera are linked by a road for cars and a much older cobblestone footpath that winds its way up and down the cliffside. It’s impossible to have a bad view from this footpath, and I took so many pictures of those views. But then I realized that I didn’t have any pictures of the footpath itself.
Santorini is hilly and steep, and I spent all my days there climbing up and down that footpath, whether on my way to the bus stop or to the bakery for bread. I came back ready for another shower after every morning excursion. I miss it so much. This is part of the footpath I took up to the neighboring village of Imerovigli, past the monastery and up to the crumbling fortress.
Sometimes the path would turn into steep stairs, and sometimes you’d wonder if you’d ever round the corners and see the other side.
If I set out early enough in the morning, and I often did, motorcycles would buzz past me, making morning bread deliveries to all the hotels and restaurants along the cliffside.
I want to remember the breakfast we were so lovingly served at our hotel every morning, and to remember the joy of slowly picking up more Greek words and being able to use them.
I want to remember walking into this sunlit room every morning and wishing everyone, “Kalimera.” That table under the picture on the left was our regular spot.
Most days I ate lunch at our little table under the window, the wind gently blowing the white lace curtains my way.
I never want to forget every step of the way from our room down to the footpath. Our view of the pool on the way down.
And the marble steps we took down to the footpath.
The sunrises we caught almost every morning, the one benefit of jet lag.
The majestic sunsets we watched every evening from our wide open window.
The special white eggplants that grow in Santorini’s rocky volcanic soil and have the sweetest flesh and the tiniest seeds.
Our little town’s tiny and adorable square.
The endless stretches of blue and white, punctuated by bright bougainvillea.
The perfectly polished volcanic rocks I collected at Perissa Beach.
And the bustling restaurant right underneath our window, sending up a symphony of clanging knives and plates and wine bottles every night. That’s what I want to remember.
Hello from Jet-Lag-Ville! I was actually amazed by how well we adjusted in Greece, and I was really excited to be up all day Wednesday and not even feeling tired. And then it all hit me like a ton of bricks in the early evening. I went to bed around 9pm, woke up at midnight, and….spent many hours on the couch watching Project Runway in the middle of the night. Thank heavens for the internet. I slept for a few minutes here and there after that, but eventually I got up and made coffee. And that’s when I noticed how itchy my mosquito bites were. I always seem to be beloved by mosquitos, but I didn’t think too much of it until Eric got up, took a look at me, and said, “Yikes.” I examined my arms and back and saw…one million little welts. Ahhhh! And then I realized they were on my face too. These were no mosquito bites, friends, they were hives! I managed to stay awake most of Thursday and went to see the doctor in the afternoon. He gave me two medicines, one which causes drowsiness and one which causes insomnia. Hahaha! I am sure you are wondering why I gave you that whole long spiel about the specifics of the jet lag, and now you know that it was for this comic payoff: jet lag + head cold + drowsiness + insomnia= it is about to get really weird in my brain! And I cannot help but cackle at the improbability of it all happening at once. But I will probably cackle a little bit louder when this is all behind me. Whether I’m sleeping or sleepwalking, I wish you all a wonderful weekend!
Thank you all so much for your sweet comments while we were in Greece, and a huge thank you to all my awesome guest writers! Eric and I made it back early Wednesday morning after many long hours in the air. But! The last leg of our journey, a red eye from New York to LA, had entire empty rows of seats, so we could lie down and sleep! That is the Christmas of flying, friends. I am still blown away by the fact that you can sit in a chair and be on the other side of the world in a number of hours you can count on your fingers, and I’m so tremendously grateful that we were able to take this trip together. It was really special, and we had a magnificent time. I have a lot of stories to tell and pictures to show you (I promise not all 900 of them). But. We are sick. What began as a feeling of dehydration has progressed from a light tingle in the back of the throat to full blast code awful. Ugh. I am so grateful that we’re sick at home instead of abroad, and I’m glad that I’ve already run all the errands that really needed to be run. So for now we’ll hole up in our little chamomile cave and hopefully emerge feeling better in a few days or so. More to come soon, but for now, oh my goodness, I have a date with my pillow that I cannot turn down. Thanks for being patient with me while I am getting caught up!
Cameron and her older brother are fairly close in age ,so as they were growing up, I had many opportunities to do similar things with them at the same time. With my oldest son, play came very easily. He was interested in cars, trains, blocks, Legos–all things I could relate to from my own childhood and things I knew how to play. With Cameron, it wasn’t so easy. She loved dolls and had quite a collection. I didn’t know how to play with dolls and still don’t. I can recall one time playing Barbie dolls with Cameron and thinking we needed to get Barbie a car so she could drive around (we eventually did get one, along with a doll house).
With Cameron’s interest in dolls, I came up with the idea of building a dollhouse together.
I must admit that although I did more of the building and painting, it was Cameron that would pick out the colors, decorations, and furniture.
As Cameron got older, she would save her allowance to buy herself clothes, and this provided a wonderful opportunity for us to go shopping together, just the two of us. We would head to the local department store, Goldsmith’s, where she would make a number of selections and then take them into the fitting room. I would sit outside while she changed into each outfit, and then she would come out to show me, twirling around so I could see her from all sides. I would comment on how it looked on her and how it fit. She would beam with smiles, happy to be spending time together and feeling pride in being able to pay for her own clothes. Then when we got home, she would have a fashion show for her mom. She is wearing one of the outfits she bought in the picture above.
Another activity we enjoyed together was going to the annual Girl Scout hoe down dance.
It was a date night for a little girl and her daddy: dinner and a dance.These two were particularly special as one was on my birthday and the other was the day after Cameron’s.
Years later, this was my Father’s Day present as a reminder of those special times. Little did I know at the time that these dances would lead to an even more significant dance many years later.
Another special time was when Cameron and I ran in a 3-mile race for the first time. Neither of us had ever run that far, so when we got to the 2.5-mile marker, we began to doubt if we could make it without stopping and walking. But taking Cameron’s hand, I told her we could do it, and so hand in hand, we ran the last half-mile, crossing the finish line together. I still have the t-shirt from that first run as a reminder of what we achieved together that day.
Cameron also was my lone classical music fan in the family. I could always count on her to go with me to The Nutcracker at Christmas time. And she willingly listened to every version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D at the music store to find just the right version that I had grown to love in college. This has become our special song, and wherever we hear it, it is a reminder of this time and another in the future. Last fall, when my wife and I were visiting my son and daughter-in-law in New York, we came across this musician playing Canon in D in Central Park. I took a picture and sent it to Cameron, knowing it would be as special to her as it was to me.
Another special time was when Cameron was ready to buy her first car. The two of us went to the dealership together. She picked out what she wanted and then assertively brokered a great deal for herself. It was probably the hardest deal that salesman ever had from a 17-year-old.
When Cameron went off to college, she and I became travel companions for the trips to and from college. She was my soul mate on these 700-mile treks in following the scorched earth approach—never stopping until you get there unless you absolutely have to. On one trip we diverged from this approach to allow me just enough time to make a quick spin through the Corvette museum in Bowling Green, KY.
But it was on Cameron’s wedding day that I got the greatest thrill of being her daddy, getting to walk her down the aisle. The surprise of seeing her for the first time in her wedding dress. The realization that we were the last two left in the anteroom before walking down the aisle. The start up of Canon in D (I had completely forgotten she had planned that). We were both in tears.But as we made it down the aisle, I kept saying we could do this, just like that run together so many years ago. I remember how proud I was and thinking what an incredible honor it was for a father to get to walk such a lovely daughter down the aisle at her wedding.
And then when it came time for me to dance with Cameron, I delighted in revealing to her that her mother and I had been secretly taking dance lessons just for this moment.
I have a thing that is integral to my daily life. It’s not water, although that stuff is important. It’s not a pizza either, although those aren’t too shabby (especially when they have artichokes on them. Don’t like artichokes on your pizza? What’s wrong with you, son?). It’s also not a pair of jeans that look good no matter how frumpy I feel that day. (No offense, Jeans. You know I love you. *Kisses.)
Hello from beautiful Athens! And thank you all so much for your sweet comments while we’ve been away. I can’t wait to get all caught up on your posts when I get back! This will be a quick one because we are off to the Roman Agora. There is so much to say about this city and our time here (and I will say it!), but for today I’ll just leave you with a picture. One that hopefully says a thousand words. A thousand happy ones.
It is actually paining me a little to write this post. Because we are leaving Santorini today. I don’t think I’ve experienced this kind of heartache about leaving a place since I wandered down Nevsky Prospect in St. Petersburg ten years ago, openly weeping at the thought of leaving Russia. I am going to miss this place so much. But! Onward and upward! Here are some of our latest adventures. On Wednesday we went on a boat ride to several of Santorini’s volcanic islands with Eric’s conference group. We took a truly harrowing bus ride down 20 or so switchbacks on the side of an enormous cliff to get to the port of Athinios. And then we saw that one of these little guys was going to be our boat. I was more than a little apprehensive.
But it was awesome! As is evidenced by this giddy pirate.
Our first stop was the (still-steaming) volcanic island of Nea Kameni. It was amazing to see all the jet black shards of rock from the volcanic explosion that formed the island as it is today. Basically, it used to be a round island, but a subterranean volcano exploded so violently thousands of years ago that it blew a giant hole right in the middle of the island and formed a few new rock islands as well. Impressive.
We hiked all the way to the very top! I was proud of us, especially in the heat. The views were pretty incredible from there. That’s the city of Fira behind us, adorned by a few cruise ships. It was so special to get to visit this island, since we have a direct view of it from our hotel.
They had these little rest stops along the way, which I thought were really cute.
Our next stop was Palea Kameni, known for its sulphur hot springs. Eric and I hadn’t brought our suits, but I took off my shoes and socks and put my legs in the water. It felt great.
I had been nervous about the rocking of the small boat on the waves, but I honestly ended up *loving it*! We sat right on the edge and got heartily splashed by the waves, which felt amazing, given how hot it was. Everyone else retreated from the side of the boat, while I alone could be heard scream-laughing and exclaiming, “This is awesome!” It felt like a gentle roller coaster, with bonus sprinkler. I took so many pictures of the water because it was just so gorgeous. I loved watching the swirling eddies of varying shades of blue and the waves recklessly crashing into each other, creating the prettiest splashes every time.
We went back to Nea Kameni and docked for a little picnic. It was too lovely for words.
On the way back to Athinios, I stood with my hand on the railing and looked back at this breathtaking view, pretending I was the captain of the boat, sailing for lands unknown.
On Thursday afternoon Eric and I headed south to the beach town of Perissa, which we’d flown over on our way to Santorini. It’s picture postcard pretty–nothing but black sand and little cabanas.
After a long bus ride, we jumped right into the sea! Please don’t let me blind you with my extreme whiteness. I realize that is a danger and so am issuing proper warning.
The rocks were so beautiful, and it was very tempting to take them all home with me. I only decided against it because I thought it would make my suitcase too heavy.
I wrote my word in the sand.
And I wrote this too.
We had dinner by the sea, and I finally got tot try gigantes, which are…gigantic beans! This stew was so hearty and delicious. Eric had pastitsio and loved it too. We timed dinner just right to be able to catch the bus back to Fira. Huzzah!
The sun was setting as we made our way back to the hotel, and Eric and I stood at the ledge over the cliffside and wondered that we were able to see such a beautiful place together. This feels in some ways like our third honeymoon (1: Hawaii, 2: Istanbul), and we couldn’t be more grateful for the time we’ve spent here and for each other. We’re definitely leaving Santorini with heavy hearts, but we are excited for the adventures to come in Athens. Thanks so much for following along with our trip here and on Instagram!
This week the girls added to their schedule a half-day of preschool in the morning. A preschool that they and I love. One where we know the teachers and the kids and their parents, and it feels really good that way. But adding that to our schedule meant we were suddenly up pretty early for a family of night-owls, and then R was screaming in the car when it was time to go in to class, and other parents’ eyes darted toward R, limp on the floor of the car, crying, as they ushered their smiling children onto campus. And then soon after that it was time to take M & R from their pre-school class to their kindergarten class and we. had. to. hurry. to make it across town before the gate to kindergarten was locked, but suddenly every rail on the preschool campus HAD to be walked on, on the way to the car. Every flower upon the way had to be explored, they had to hide themselves in every enclave in order to “SURPRISE” me. again. before we left.
When we got home from the dentist, and the initial concern that my kid would lose her tooth, or that it would die, was laid to rest, and I’d helped clean the bubble gum out of R’s armpit and promised her we’d later put oil on it to keep her armpit from painfully sticking to itself (yeah, that happened), I told the girls they could watch Aladdin*, but after dinner. And they cried. A lot. It had been a long day, they were ready to veg. We were nearing tantrum-town and I was already late to their first Back-To-School night (not that I wanted to go back to the injury-inducing school right then, but whatever), so I relented. Did you hear that??? Yes!!! I CAVED to my children’s tears. And they stopped crying. I totally reinforced their response. It’s like the top of the list of minor parenting offenses. And I felt good about it. I told you I’m wicked.
Hello from Santorini! Our internet is pretty spotty here, but I just wanted to pop by and say hi and share a few pictures and impressions.
Eric asked me at breakfast this morning what I had found most surprising about our time here, and I had to think for a minute. What I ultimately ended up saying was that I have been surprised by everything, in the most unexpected way. I had seen plenty of pictures, and I knew what it was going to be like here, but I somehow still didn’t know it was going to be like this. I didn’t know what it was going to feel like to be here. And let me tell you, it feels paradisiacal.
For starters, the place where we’re staying is ridiculous. I drooled over the pictures on their website for months before our departure, but it’s still enough to knock my socks off. This is our view on the second story loft. From our bed. Incredible. There is so much light, and so much space, and we’ve been up every morning in time to run up to the terrace and catch the completely bewildering sunrise. It’s just staggeringly beautiful.
I’ve been amazed by the softly curving currents of the sea, and the islands that rise out of it, like green clouds in a cerulean sky.
I’ve been amazed by the colors here–the creamiest of whites and eggshells, the deepest royal and aquamarine and sky blues, the softest magentas of the bougainvillea that adorns almost every doorway. I have been taking so many pictures of doorways.
I’ve been amazed by the food, which is so different here. The feta is so creamy and so lightly salty. The gigantic Santorini capers explode with the saltiness of the sea in your mouth. The yogurt is so refreshingly tart, and thick as mousse. The fresh oregano is the most fun herbal kick in the mouth I’ve ever experienced. Every meal is a treat.
I’ve been amazed that there is not a bad view on this entire island. Everywhere I go, there is another million-dollar scene painted before my eyes.
Basically, I’m enamored. And so excited that we have a few more days to explore here!
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