Santorini is two things at once: a cliff-top fever dream of whitewash and blue domes, and a very small place hosting a very large number of visitors. On my Celebrity tender call I saw both sides, incredible views and large crowds in a slow-motion scrum. Here’s the unvarnished version that keeps the romance and spares you the worst of the faffing.
Start late and give yourself some breathing room
The famous cable car is a marvel of engineering, that is until you've watched it ferry 20 gondola's worth of passengers up the hillside and you've only moved about 2 metres in the queue. At peak morning rush, the line can slither down the steps and leave you waiting for an hour or more. If your ship lingers for sunset in Oia (many do), I'd recommend giving yourself a lazy morning. I took a later tender and walked straight into a cable car. Consider this your permission to dawdle over breakfast. All the options:
- Cable car: efficient, scenic, blessedly mechanical.
- Donkey: traditional, yes, but the animals looked a bit sad and I passed. Your call, but I’d choose hooves-free.
- Footpath: a zigzag of 500-ish steps you’ll meet again on the way down. Manageable if you’re reasonably steady and not wearing flip-flops that squeak “hubris.”
Terrace tables and crowd craft
If you want that show-pony lunch with a caldera view, book ahead. Space is very scarce and sunsets don’t create chairs. Same for Oia: research, reserve, and arrive on time. Otherwise you may end up eating your feelings in a very expensive back alley.
The lanes in Fira and Oia are pretty and narrow, which is charming until it’s you, a bridal shoot, and three guided tours playing Tetris. Keep your elbows in, your patience up, and your valuables somewhere that isn’t a dangling tote.
Oia without tears (or at least fewer)
Yes, you can book a ship excursion and be zipped straight to Oia by coach. Equally, you can stroll to the regular coach park and buy a return for a few euros. Chances are you’ll sit on the same bus as the excursion crowd and feel quietly pleased with yourself (as I did).
About that blue-dome photo: you will queue behind a polite but determined line of humans. Take the shot, be charming, move on. Hogging the view will earn you a Greek chorus of side-eye.
Find the quiet, earn the calm
My best moments came when I stepped away from the parade routes and followed side lanes that looked like nothing in particular. Ten minutes later: a church courtyard to myself, a cat supervising, and the caldera below looking like a postcard. You don’t need a map for this; just curiosity and a willingness to duck left when everyone else goes right.
It's also worth noting that while Santorini is magical; it’s also expensive. Essentials are priced like souvenirs. I clocked suncream north of €30. Bring what you need from the ship or from home and save your euros for grilled octopus and a glass of Assyrtiko you’ll remember.
Getting back down without losing the will to live
Evening cable car queues can return with feeling. I walked the path instead. It’s a decent clamber with beautiful views, a mild whiff of donkey in places, and the occasional four-legged traffic jam. Keep an eye on your footing, sidestep anything steaming, and avoid petting the talent. If you’re relatively able-bodied, it’s absolutely doable and quicker than it looks.
Santorini is busy, sometimes hilariously so. It’s also special enough to forgive. Start late, book the good terrace, take the local coach to Oia, wander off the main lanes, and keep your sense of humour for the descent. You’ll sail away sun-dazed, very satisfied, and with a photo that (brief queue theatrics aside) was absolutely worth it.