Day 9: We kick ass

Not startling switchbacks… nor ankle-breaking cobblestones… nor even steaming heaps of donkey dung could keep your intrepid correspondents from climbing the 600 “stairs” that reach from the sea to the idyllic town of Fira on Santorini. And not only did we make the ascent (a climb the ship’s crew warned against), we did it quicker than the beasts who had to tote less athletic cruisers up the cliff.

Humans rule. Donkeys drool.

Best day of the trip by far – partly because Santorini may be the coolest place on Earth and partly because we had a blast with our neighbor pals Dave & B, who just happen to be on a Crete-Rhodes-Santorini-Athens vacation.

They let us visit their cliffside suite at a joint called Hotel Ira (guess the Hotel Hortense was booked). A breeze rippled through the open windows of their three-level palazzo overlooking what seemed to be toy boats below. It was stunning – even moreso given the 85-Euros-per-night rate.

Best meal of the trip by far: Lunch at Café Parea. A bit off the beaten touron path. Grilled feta, Greek salads (no lettuce in the real deal) crowned with bricks of feta, unbelievably creamy dolmas, souvlaki, grilled lamb, pork chops, moussaka, fries topped with crumbled feta and a bottle of the local vino. Wow. We won’t need to eat for weeks.

Santorini was a bracing change after a day at sea that climaxed with Formal Night -- me in a tux and the better half looking waaay better in a lil black number -- and a visit to the disco. It's at the top of the ship's rear end, and dubbed Skywalker, probably because they don’t play a single song released after The Empire Strikes Back. Man, I hadn’t seen the Electric Slide done since Heatwave stopped riding on the Groove Line, tonight.

Sorry, gotta go. Lunch is wearing off, and the buffet beckons.