As you approach Santorini on the ferry from Piraeus, something remarkable happens. The sullen faces, bored children and busying families who treat the journey as one might treat a commute anywhere in the world — albeit one that lasts hours — spring to life, flocking to one side of the ship like bees to pollen. The sight of the world-famous caldera — resplendent in the late-afternoon sun — draws gasps, cameras and admiring gazes; its colours and shadows narrowing as the sun sinks ever lower on the horizon.
Unlike many of those who disembarked, we didn’t head immediately for Oia or Fira and their postcard-perfect volcanic panoramas. Instead, we aimed for Pyrgos, Santorini’s highest point, our driver taking us as far as he could before we had to walk the final few hundred metres to our hotel, close to the ruins of a Venetian castle. From here, our view was of vineyards, medieval villages and black-sand beaches on the island’s ‘other side’.