Home » Outdoor & Recreation » Virtual Journeys » Close to Heaven

Close to Heaven

© Mary Ellen Bradshaw

One of the highlights of the trip for both of us was dinner with the captain. Out of the five hundred passengers only twelve were chosen to have a gourmet dinner with him and his officers.

The whole dining room clapped as we entered two by two. That’s what you get when you hang around with a queen, I guess.

Santorini with its whitewashed buildings, blue roofed churches, deep blue sea and sky put on a spring show for us. The island was green, with fields of red poppies and yellow and white daisies. The roadsides were lined with purple, pink, and green. It was a face of this island that I had never seen before.

In our hotel at Kamari Beach the queen again emerged. She held court each morning in her poolside balcony. She spoke to and was greeted by all, especially the children. Everyone addressed her as “Grandma.”

One tiny boy, about age three, misted her eyes as he called at the top of his voice “Grandma I have a flower for you.” Face aglow, he presented her a weed picked at the roadside.

Mother took part in the weeklong Easter festivities. This included a portion of the Good Friday evening walk through the cobbled lanes of the village, lit only by candles and small fires in tin cans. We were sprayed with perfume, pelted with flowers and the odd firecracker.

She attended the midnight service, where candles were lit with a fire from the holy land. The sound of firecrackers and shouts of “ Christ has risen.” filled the air. Then there were fireworks and a midnight meal of lung soup. On Sunday she helped turn the lambs on the spit, on the beach. Then we feasted.

We were sad to leave Kamari. Unfortunately our arrival in Athens was not so pleasant. There was a cold wind. It was getting dark and the one cab on the dock would not take us, after spying our huge bags.

To protect her from the wind, I layered her in sweaters and surrounded her with luggage. A search of the nearby village did not produce a taxi.

It brought tears to my eyes as I saw her sitting in her luggage fort, straw hat perched on her head, looking small, old and vulnerable. Mother did, however, manage to shout instructions as I tried to figure out what to do. No one including port police would help, in fact they closed up and left us there.