We’re in Santorini for the next few days and every time I come here, it always takes my breath away. It’s an island on the rim of an ancient volcano, with towns sitting precariously on the edge, looking as if they’re about to fall into the dark, eerie waters of its eye. It was nothing like I expected when I came last year with friends and the second time around, it still gives me shivers. This is the darkest beauty I’ve seen.
Black sand beaches, bottomless waters, dry rough hills and a scorching sun. It is wild and raw and unforgiving. Violent winds on one face of the island and a calm, mirror-like caldera of water on the other. An island of contrasts. So shocking in its wonder and so soft in its beauty. It’s the kind of place that makes me feel so alive. I am so awed.
This is why we travel. To feel mystery, to be reminded that we haven’t seen everything there is to see, that we don’t know everything there is to know. We like to be shaken. We like to be swept off our feet. Like the draw of unrequited love, travel teases us, shows us a world that could be and opens up possibilities so different from our daily lives.
