Day 2: Firostefani

Sunday, 14th July 2019

Even after our late arrival the night before, we refused to let precious hours slip away. By 8 a.m., the alarm dragged us from the comfort of sleep. Our time at Villa Koronios was short, and we were determined to savour every second of its quiet pool and terrace—an oasis our next hotel couldn’t promise.

Breakfast was modest but sufficient: a steady flow of bread, jam, and coffee that wasn’t great but strong enough to power us through the day. A gentle haze draped the morning air, casting a dreamlike glow over the poolside as we stretched out under the sun, lingering until nearly noon. We retreated to our room, where our still-packed bags allowed for a swift shower and an even quicker checkout—just a toss of the key at reception and we were off.

Our next destination: Smaro Studios in Firostefani. The 20-minute trek uphill through Fira turned into a battle of will against gravity, backpacks digging into our shoulders as the heat pressed down. Plans to stop for lunch dissolved with each laboured step. Instead, we powered on, the hope of an early check-in spurring us forward. Fortune smiled on us—our room was ready, and we wasted no time shedding our luggage and slipping into the small but blissfully cool plunge pool. It felt like salvation.

Refreshed, we ventured back into Fira, unencumbered and light on our feet. I’d been dreaming of Nick’s Grill since my first visit and its legendary pork gyros didn’t disappoint. Each bite was a symphony of nostalgia and flavour, a perfect homage to my 2017 memories.

The afternoon heat turned sightseeing into an endurance test, but we braved the Museum of Prehistoric Thira before surrendering to the pool and a restorative nap back at Smaro. By evening, revived and restless, we impulsively embarked on a hike to Skaros Rock. The 30-minute walk rewarded us with staggering vistas—a painter’s palette of blues and whites, kissed by the setting sun. It was breathtaking, the kind of beauty that lingers in your soul long after the moment ends.

Dinner awaited at Da Vinci, a cosy Italian haven just steps from our hotel. The evening was full of indulgence: exquisite fresh pasta, a velvety red wine, and the pièce de résistance—a massive chocolate calzone so decadent it bordered on absurdity. I was helpless against it, leaving the table feeling gloriously overfed and utterly satisfied.

With full bellies and happy hearts, we strolled back to our room under the soft glow of the night. Exhaustion greeted us like an old friend, and we slipped into bed, surrendering to the deep, dreamless sleep of a day well spent.