A black Milo moment

1983 was a particularly good year for dreaming. Maybe being 18 and having a girls night in watching a newly released summer movie had something to do with it. Yes, that was it. The beginning of travel dreaming.

The movie was 'Summer Lovers'. It changed my way of thinking, not because of the nature of the story line, but because of the way it portrayed a different world, a wide world of travel awaited. I can still remember how I felt watching it. It took me away mentally. I was lost in world of blue and white washed cave houses, bathed in sunlight, completely relaxed, exhilarated, free, and wrapped in magic.

And throughout all the years that passed from then on, I dreamed of it. As I ventured out of my teens, found love, married and became a mother, I still dreamed... of those perfect domed chapels, white washed cave houses, long summer evenings and Santorini in the Greek Islands.

Travel came in a blast. Travelling our home state of Tasmania, followed by much of wide spread Australia. As a family we ventured overseas to discover Thailand, island hopping, discovering and enjoying a wonderful new world. Vietnam beckoned and we discovered another world of beautiful people and extraordinary opportunities.

Our girls discovered travel with a vengeance, Mongolia, Malaysia, Fiji, New Zealand, UK, Spain, Belgium and Wales. Amazing stories, bold adventures and great experiences. But still I dreamed. Those white washed cave houses, warm summer evenings and long winding steps leading to amazing azure waters still beckoned me and always took me back to 1983.

Fast forward to 2013. Here she is sailing through the caldera, standing on the top of the Naxos ferry in a pair of light cotton shorts feeling like she is 18 again. Santorini with its white topped cliffs glistening like wedding cake icing, sunbeams warming her heart and tears streaming down her face. She looks at her husband and mouths 'Thank you'.

Santorini opened its magical arms and enveloped us like long lost friends. I should diverge to say, my husband has always known my passion from 1983, and he even watched the movie with me some 25 years after I had initially seen it. He appreciated my dream but could never really fully understand my desire for a place I had never been. But that day in 2013, gliding into the Caldera, he got it. Just like I had even before I had arrived. Santorini did its magic.

There is so much more to say, so much more to divulge but some things are so special, they deserve to be locked away in a private place for the luxury of resurrection at a future date with a hot black Milo. However, I can say, I am still dreaming, dreaming of those perfectly domed chapels, white washed cave houses, long summer evenings and Santorini in the Greek Islands.



Spectacular Oia, Santorini Greece



The icing on the Cake. Santorini, Greece