Best Days

Warning: Long post. Long, worth-it post.
For the last several years I've been able to name the best day of my life. The day changes periodically, but I always have one in mind. In 2006 it was June 1st--Just an overall good day. I ran 7 miles, water skied, floated the Provo River, went to a winning Real Soccer game, and wrapped it all up by breaking up a highschool gang fight at Molca Salsa.

2007 trumped 2006 in many ways, but mostly in the beginning of July (exact day undetermined), on a day known as Truck Pool Day. I don't think I've simultaneously laughed and drowned so enjoyably in my life. We emptied 3 pools with our very scary neighborhood driving and went through the Del Taco drive-in.

These days have several things in common, most importantly a) A vague idea of some activities for the day; b) Nowhere important to be; c) No limits on time; d) Beautiful weather; and e) Good friends. And my most current Best Day of My Life? No different.

May 24, 2008
We awoke early in our skimpy hotel rooms; we feasted early on our skimpy hotel breakfast. We had a plan and Freedom was its name. Across the street waited 3 beautiful machines for that purpose, and we had only to sign our lives over to the man who never changed clothes or positions in his little shop. 3 quick lessons and 6 helmets later, we were off.

My partner was Katherine,
and she gave me the glory of driving first. Our little chain wound its way to the south-western peninsula of Santorini. We had a destination in mind, but soon realized that we didn't care where we went, so long as we were in control... The wind whipped through our hair and Katherine and I found ourselves singing anything and everything we could think of at the tops of our lungs. After several days and several cities worth of relying on public transportation, we were just now realizing what we'd been missing. We made a few scenic stops and then arrived triumphant at the Lighthouse, destination #1. Small hike, small cave, small doll found in bushes, the end.

Then we cruised to Red Beach. The cliffs in this particular part of the volcanic island are slightly red, from whatever crazy gases were emitted in the eruption. The red mixes with black and makes for a pretty cool background to blue-green water. We swam, we tried clinging to a rock (Mermaid-style), and I spent long moments listening to the water tossing rocks onto the shore--I think I have a favorite sound, and I can't believe I haven't heard it before.

Next stop: Peruvilos Beach (spelling uncertain). You know how you see a Corona commercial and think "what beach really looks like that?" Well...I have an idea. We ate lunch at a beach front restaurant and a few girls fell in love with our scrawny 12-year-old server. Then we each found a beach chair with accompanying thatch umbrella and took naps, read, whatever. I took a walk and spent some delicious alone time, applying what I'm certain should be a new spa treatment: Black Sand Scrub. Despite the occasional naked person who slightly ruined the view, this beach was super paradise. We attempted to crash a volleyball game full of Greek male models with laughable sports skills but ended up spectating instead.

Then we explored a few random villages, which satisfied my craving for the Santorini of my imagination. We walked around Pyrgos, and after being invited into a creepy old lady's house and repeatedly offered a donkey ride by a cute old man, we happened across a hilltop church with an all-too-accessible bell. I, thus challenged, decided that the bell tolls for me and gave it a healthy clang. Actually, it was a surprisingly loud CLANG that sounded out over the whole valley. Figuring the bell police were surely after us, we took off running and laughing our way down the hill. This whole event was captured on video, only to be suspiciously destroyed later...thus entering it in the realm of myth. You can tell your grandchildren that you know the girls who unwittingly mobilized the Greek troops to defend the castle against the encroaching pirates by sounding the Pirate Bell...if you want.





We raced back victorious to our skimpy hotel and transformed into beautiful goddesses so we could head to Fira for the sunset. All the restaurants overlooking the caldera (read: huge watery basin in the middle of the ring of islands) are super expensive so we grabbed cheap gyros and jumped on a roof with an amazing view. I will forever love the guy from the restaurant right next to us who saw us, contemplated, and then decided to let us enjoy our illegal selves. After some shopping and some amazing desserts, we retired for the evening.
This, my friends, was the pinnacle of the trip for me. I may or may not document the rest of it, but this gives an adequate picture of how it felt to be free in Greece for 10 days. Until something tops it, May 24th was the best day of my life.