Day Seven, Mykonos to Santorini

On our last morning in Mykonos, Kelly and I had no shame walking to the dining room looking a hot mess for our final breakfast at the awesome hotel buffet. I still salivate just thinking about this breakfast, and back home I'm not even a big breakfast person. I think filling up on a hearty breakfast before we were fully awake is what kept the hangovers away. We had to be out of our rooms around 10 or 11 this morning, can't remember what time exactly, only to sit around in the lobby until 12:30 for our bus to the port (and yes, the skinny dipping bus driver drove us there). Kelly and I lounged on the lobby couches for a while then walked to the beach for a few more pictures (and to look for my underwear). Right before we were boarding the bus I went to the bar for a bottle of water only to find my more hardcore compadres drinking by the pool. I wish I brought a breathalyzer with me because I'm sure several people would have blown well above the legal limit before noon every day.

Our ferry wasn't leaving until 2:30, giving us time to go into Mykonos town for lunch. Dave waited at the dock with all of our bags to allow us to wander around. The restaurant we settled on was mediocre at best. A few people ordered hamburgers and, like my hamburger at Paradise Beach, they were veggie burgers... or atleast not cow meat. Someone ordered spaghetti bolognese and once again it was not cow but most likely lamb. Despite the cows that woke me up outside my room every morning, I don't think Mykonos is a big beef producer.

Have I mentioned how windy it was in Mykonos? I didn't mind it so much since if there was no wind it would probably be way too hot, but a few times on the beach the sand would be pummeling us. Just standing around waiting to board the wind was whipping pretty hard, which is kind of scary when a strong gust comes while you're lugging a 35-pound suitcase up a rickety ferry ramp. I sat next to Scotty on the ferry which was not a good thing for our fellow passengers. We continued drinking and blasted my ipod for the entire ride. Turns out his taste in music is as awesome (or horrible, depending who you ask) as mine, so Scotty was attached to my ipod speakers for the rest of the trip. It took us around 3 hours to get to Santorini and there was no mistaking we'd arrived. Pulling into the port we had a beautiful view of cliffs rising dramatically out of the sea. As per usual in Greece the sky was cloudless and rich blue, the perfect backdrop for the white buildings topping the cliffs. I was both in awe of the views and scared for my life as our bus ambled up the narrow roads.

We stayed at the small, family-owned Hotel Nikolas, a cute cluster of yellow and coral buildings. While we were checking in I went to the bar for a bottle of water, but I only had bills in increments of 50 (what a baller, I know). Since most places won't break 50 euro notes for small purchases, I figured I would mooch some change off someone else. Instead the girl just handed me the water and waved me away, telling me I could just pay her back later. I was amazed they were working on the honor system here. This happened to me AGAIN at a little market up the street from our hotel. I went to the counter with water and a ham and cheese croissant (I ate at least 5 of these from this place while we were in Santorini... they were ridiculous) only to find I had nothing but 50 euro. The guy behind the counter shrugged and told me it was OK, I could still take it. Granted, this was toward the end of my time in Santorini and I had already single-handedly increased this man's ham and cheese croissant sales for the week by 250%, so I could understand a little freebie. But still... this would never, ever happen at home. Free lunches exist only in Greece.

By the time we got to the hotel we had just enough time to clean up before dinner. This was the night of our included dinner (we had one included dinner at each stop), but instead of being fed at our hotel like on our previous included dinners, we went to a restaurant in town. A bus picked us up and dropped us off in the main part of town. From there we walked, or I should say climbed, the steep cobblestone paths meandering through the maze of restaurants and shops. Suddenly the path gave way to an open terrace and we had incredible views of the sun going down over the caldera (basically a bay that is actually a crater formed by volcanic activity). It was the exact view of what you see in postcards of Santorini. Looking in one direction you'd see white buildings perilously hugging the side of the cliffs. In the other direction the sky was hazy and the sun was inching its way toward the water. It looked like a backdrop more than the real thing to me, probably because I'd never seen anything like this. Dave let us gawk for a moment before ushering us toward the restaurant.

The beautiful views continued as we ate dinner while the sun went down. Kelly and I sat with Sylvia, Michelle, Scotty and Layne. Something I was completely unaware of was pointed out to us during one of our dinnertime conversations. Apparently Americans excessively say "thank you." I honestly have never noticed how much I say it until this very conversation. The funny thing is the Aussies said they'd picked up on it from us and had started saying it, too, but of course I hadn't noticed because excessive use of "thank you" doesn't phase me. It just goes to show being polite has nothing to do with saying "please" or "thank you," considering some of the nicest and most genuine people I've met don't use those words half as much as my rude ass does! For dinner we had Greek salad and moussaka. I've never had moussaka, which is a layered eggplant, meat and cheese dish and probably one of the most well known Greek dishes. I didn't enjoy it, only because the secret ingredient happens to be cinnamon (blah). For dessert we were served Greek yogurt and honey. I don't like the normal crappy American yogurt to begin with but Greek yogurt is like Yoplait on steroids. It's very thick and very sour (that's what she said). Not my cup of tea, but that was alright because the less I eat the quicker I get drunk.

After dinner we headed straight to a little bar Dave claims is usually his hideaway when he needs escape from his Contiki groups (probably bullshit, but I'll buy it). He told us not to have a big night, but of course that didn't happen. Kelly and I cozied up to the DJ, who denied our incessant requests for Lionel Richie (plus he was Australian, so I just KNOW he had some Lionel). At one point I was standing at the bar with Scotty and suddenly he got really angry out of nowhere. I motioned for Kelly and warned her I think we were about to see the dark side of drunk Scotty, so I whisked him outside and had her go find Stampy to diffuse the situation. As soon as Stampy came outside, Scotty was fine! He was only mad because he couldn't find Stampy. Kelly and I just about died laughing over this and we all went back inside to continue the good time. The drinks kept flowing and pretty soon I turn to rum and Coke Light, a surefire way to bring Drunk Kerry out real fast. By now, we've noticed the Aussies live up to one stereotype... they LOVE "Land From Down Under" by Men at Work. I could be wrong, but I think the Australian government has actually instilled laws that men can't wear shirts while that song is playing. Once the DJ put it on, we had a handful of Aussie boys dancing around shirtless. For the rest of the trip I would become worried if the boys kept their shirts on for an entire night out. Another highlight of the night was when the DJ finally granted one of my requests and played "I'm So Excited." Everyone was sufficiently drunk at that point and we all went nuts. So much for not having a big night, sorry Dave! Soon Kelly was ready to pack it up and go home, so I used my patented "Ok, let me just finish my drink" line which inevitably leads to me having 4 more drinks and Kelly ready to kill me. But she outsmarted me this night and found out the magic words "Dave's leaving" are all it takes to get me to go homeWe took a few cabs back to the hotel, at which time Sylvia realized we'd lost Michelle somewhere along the way. In her drunken state, she refused to go up to her room and go to bed. It took Kelly, Stampy and me to put her to bed, which must have been quite a sight. Imagine 3 drunk idiots trying to coerce another drunk idiot to get into bed.

Fortunately Michelle didn't end up on the side of a milk carton, but Staker almost did. He got separated from everyone and wandered the streets of Santorini until the next afternoon! Keep in mind Dave handed out "don't get lost" sheets on our first day with the names of all our hotels but obviously no one carried them around, that would be too sensible. Poor Staker had no idea what the name of our hotel was so he didn't make it home until some of the girls found him wandering the next day when they were in town shopping. That is a classic Contiki story right there.