Santorini, Rome, and the Cinque Terrestrial

The pictures took so long to upload last time that I didn't manage to write anything.  Our stay in Santorini was lovely, the islands were beautiful and the food was delicious.  We took the place on headlong.  Our first full day involved several stomach twisting rides across the island's sinuous roads, snorkelling, high-speed water tubing, and parasailing. We were well exhausted by the time that we had returned to the hotel. The snorkelling was surprisingly good given the rather chilly water in the caldera. I'm not sure if tubing really describes our second activity, but it's my best guess.  Essentially we held onto a giant inflatable sofa while it was dragged across the ocean behind a motorboat, thus being made to do its best Brahma bull impression. Despite the deathly grip I felt I was maintaining, at one point I noticed that I was up in the air, sofa nowhere to be seen. Shortly thereafter I landed in the ocean. A good time was had by all.  Undeterred by our epic day we undertook even more the second day, climbing a volcano, a harrowing donkey ride, swimming to a hot spring, and probably most difficult of all, the sunset viewing.  The tourist life of Santorini centers around sunset. Every restaurant, gyros stand and souvenir shop advertises the magnificence of its sunset view. A dozen different sunset cruises and tours cqn be booked on any given day.  So we were determined to experience the ultimate Santorini sunset, and the town of Oia, we were told, is the place to do it. Unfortunately, our boat dropped us off, already hot and tired, about 3 hours early at which time the sun is still very much the enemy. We were also a bit over budget and couldn't afford to stake out in one of the many sunset themed cafes of Oia, known for their 9€ Orange juices and we had to scurry from one patch of shade to another for what seemed like days.  The sunset ultimately was beautiful but we were mostly just glad to be rid of the sun. We also learned a valuable lesson, that this is a honeymoon, not The Amazing Race, and we get to keep going even if we do not complete every possible activity before returning to the hotel.
Our Santorini-Rome flight gave us one last taste of the chaos that is modern day Greece. At the airport we were dismayed to see a fairly long line spilling out onto the curb. Naturally, I went in and established that yes, this the line for our flight.  The line showed very little sign of moving and our neighbors all seemed think it was a different flight, so I went to check again, only to discover that, while the tail had stayed in place, the head had moved and we were now in line for a completely different flight that none of us wanted. Luckily we managed to catch the flight. I have been in many lines in many places on earth and so far I have been able to count on the principle that however slowly and erratically it may move, once get into the right line, you will continue to move towards your goal, but Greece has proved me wrong.
Rome. Our time in Rome was probably about equally divided between eating Italian food, waiting for public transit and viewing old buildings.  Of course there is a lot of variation within each category. Some sights are fantastic, some meals make us wonder whether the Boyardee family is Roman, some trains are air conditioned, etc.  The colliseum for instance, is a bit run down given that for 85% of its life its major purpose was as a combination stone quarry/stocky. The pantheon has, rather ironically, been kept in good repair by the Church. Our favorite was probably St. Peter's.  It simply is amazing what you can do with all the money and power in the world. But that's a bit trite.  The harmony that the half-dozen lead architects were somehow able to maintain is dare-I-say miraculous?  The food was good, but frankly not quite our style. Romans seem to enjoy sweet tomato sauces and thin pizzas that neither Kathy nor I prefer.
Onward to the Cinque Terre.  These five ultra-quaint, once-rustic villages hang off precipitous slopes running into the gulf of Liguria, also called Golfo de las Poetas, for the leaders of its first wave of tourists, Keats and Byron.  The whole area is a national park now, but not a barren wilderness park, a suntanning and souvenirs and charming little restaurants park. We've opted to stay 4 days to really get to know it. Sadly, the most picturesque of the picturesque, the foot path from Vernazza to Manerola, which is generally listed in the top 10 walks in the world is closed due to a landslide.  We've had to console ourselves with too much foccacia and gelato.