It was a tough climb, a switch-backed scrabble of lava scree that only donkeys traverse with tourists atop, but we were out of season, and on a mission. The sacred space of ancient Akroteri, soaring on a mountaintop jutting out of the volcanic ash that defines Santorini, called.
In the clouds and soaring spaces atop the mountain we found ancient magic. Ruins and runes, petroglyphs and waving poppies that seemed suspended in space and time. It was not an easy place to leave.