My Greek Story—Part 1: I Rode a Donkey in Santorini

A tender boat took us from the cruise ship to the shore of the greek island of Santorini.
It rocked back and forth in the choppy waters of the Mediterranean Sea and my stomach rolled. I was anxious to plant my feet on solid ground—the solid ground of Santorini, at that.

You are familiar with the island even if you don’t know it. It served as the setting for the films Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Mama Mia. It is the quintessential Greek scene, with it’s white washed buildings and blue roofs, and I was ready (!) to see it.

However, the island is a result of a volcanic eruption that occurred almost 3,600 years ago, and so the village is built on the very top of the jagged rock. There was a costly lift to the top, or the cheaper option of riding a donkey.

Our group directors gave us the freedom to choose either, and although I wanted to take the lift up, people kept telling (bullying, let’s call it what it was) me that I needed this “experience.”
EXPERIENCE. If I had a $10 for everything that I did this semester for the EXPERIENCE.
So I put on my big girl panties (hope I didn’t just make this post awkward) and straddled the seemingly giant donkey. It started up the mountain before I even had my feet in the stirrups and I knew then that this wouldn’t—it just couldn’t—end well.

My hands clutched the saddle tightly and along with a few friends, we were led up the winding trail to the top. Other than a stampede of donkeys threatening to knock me over as they ran down the trail, things went smoothly, and when I saw the end of the trail in sight, I puffed out a huge sigh of relief.
I MADE IT!

The guide hopped off of his donkey and ordered me off mine. Nervous because of his urgent tone, I started to swing my body off, and before I could do anything about it, I realized that my foot didn’t come with me.

It was still in the stirrup. With a rope tangled around it.

I was dangling on the side of the donkey, my leg still swung over the saddle in the stirrup and my butt facing the ground.

“STAND UP!” The guide yelled.

“I CAN’T STAND UP!” I shrieked. “My foot is stuck.”

He quickly untied the rope that was around my foot and I fell to the ground.

THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO ME, I thought as I stood up, dusting the dirt off of me.

All I could do was laugh because who else falls off a donkey in Santorini?! Lena sure didn’t. (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants reference)

How’s that for an “experience”?


I amand my writing is rusty. Not nearly as rusty as my running. Bear with me!