Open Arms on Santorini

Santorini is a resort town, there’s no denying that, but the hospitality is not just an act. Your waiter might be a little harried, your taxi driver a little… reckless, but the people who own their businesses take such pride in providing excellent service that you feel like a family friend as much as an international guest.

At our guest house, our every need was handled with delicate concern by the family owners. When we decided to take the bus back to port, owner Marta drove us to the stop since it was 2 kilometers away, saving us a bunch of time and money.

There was a tiny local goods shop on the road out of Akrotiri that we passed several times a day. We decided to stop and see what they were offering and as soon as we were off our bikes one of the women came out carrying a tray of free samples. Cheese, jams, olives, wine – we sat on their patio and devoured everything! We happily parted with our Euros for some olive tapenade and decided to come back the next day for sandwiches – when we received ANOTHER tray of samples.

But my favorite moment of Greek hospitality was during dinner one night in Akrotiri. Boyfriend and I often have a difficult time making dinner decisions, but in a surprise moment of decisiveness I picked a restaurant near our guest house. When we walked in, my enthusiasm waned. The place was virtually empty. Another young couple sat in one corner, talking quietly. Still, we were already there and I had made a decision for once, so we sat down and prepared to order some wine.

Barbara, the woman who came to our table, was the owner and cook for the restaurant. She didn’t speak much English, but her warm, joking attitude reminded me of family, like a high-energy, good-hearted aunt. We asked her what was good and she said, “All!” feigning offense at our inadvertent slight against her cooking.

Between bustling from the kitchen to the patio, she would tease us. Once the phone rang and she brought it over to the other couple, interrupting their meal and handing the phone over to the boy. Boyfriend and I are nosy so we eavesdropped as the guy translated a conversation from English to Greek and back again. When Barbara, satisfied, took back the phone and hurried away, we turned to them and asked if he was part of the family business.

“No,” he said, sheepishly, “I just speak Greek.”

We started chatting with them, a young couple on holiday from university in England (we immediately felt three times older than them. A Greek island holiday would have been absolutely impossible for me to even dream about as a university student!).

Barbara cleared our plates from a delicious and filling meal, then came back complimentary dessert. While we devoured it, she put her hand on her hip, smirked down at Boyfriend, and asked how old he was.

I don’t know what compelled him to answer – probably her Greek mama attitude – but when she found out that he was 33 and unmarried, she mimed shock and gave him a proper scolding. In Greek! Whatever she said completely went over our heads, but the way she nodded in my direction did not.

When she had given Boyfriend an earful, she nodded triumphantly, and marched back to the kitchen. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, not needing to add much more. Our friend from the other table leaned toward us.

“When you get married,” he said confidentially, “She wants you to have the reception here.”

Have you ever been treated so well while traveling that you’ve felt like adopted family?