Focused Upward: We are those people

We've found the hide-a-ways and we've also happened upon the tourist hotspots. I can't quite tell which I prefer more. I think I need both at different times.

Our encounter with Santorini was brief. Cruise ship sightseers swarmed the streets and walkways every morning. And then by 2 p.m. the more ambitious were winding their way down the thousands of steps, while the majority of tanned, but frail ol' gals and boys took the cable car back down to their waiting water taxi.

Fira is the main town on Santorini (or the Island of Thira) and it sits up atop the cliff. We stayed in a hotel that clung to the cliff side. I felt a bit caught up with the closeness, but we truly were nestled into our very own slot in the rock. I reminded myself to revel in that.

Each night, as we watched the sun set behind the volcano that sits across the water from Thira it was as if the town could finally exhale and breathe again. Another day of sightseers had been put to bed.

One of the most popular activities we'd witnessed here was the scooter and quad (atv)rentals. The three of us found the quad renters especially comical.

The majority of them were Brits, in Greece to enjoy the sun and have a laugh. With helmets on they looked like bobble heads. They sat, two to a seat, straddling their rented, afternoon 'steed' with huge grins dried to their faces.

The engines would make an awful noise as they bumbled their way along the streets and even in some cases highways. They never went very fast. From our seat on a bus or walking along the sidewalk you could tell who were the conscientious renters and who were the ignorant putzes. The thoughtful ones would drive along the side of the road pulling over when they could for the real traffic that quickly collected behind them.

Well today we were 'those' people.

Now on Mykonos with only one full day of sightseeing we wanted to get into the nooks and crannies of the island. My sister and I rented one quad and mom, well she took the bus.

We rented from an older man who wore a ball cap tipped forward and his blonde, cigarette stained locks came spilling out the bottom. His name was Carlos.

He set us up on our ride and urged us to be careful.

He was about to wave us off when I scrambled off the seat, "What about a helmet?"

"Oh you want helmet?" We followed him back into his dusty office and he unboxed a helmet for me. Obviously they aren't popular here.

He looked up at my sister and asked if she wanted one. She responded with a laugh, "No, no."

Carlos stood between us walking us back outside when he grabbed our waists and gave us a grandfather like squeeze. "I am a Greek between two Canadian flowers." He barely stood up past our shoulders. It was a good day for Carlos. A quad rented during the slow season to two Canadian lassies.

Before I could start the engine Carlos was at the side of our vehicle.

"Give me a kiss before you leave."

I quickly pecked the side of his stubbled cheek.

"You both are the flower sisters, the sweet sisters and the super sexy sisters."

Engine on!

With a rumble and a putt we put'er into gear and roared off down the rock wall lined roads.

We toodled around tight, winding roads, down one way streets in the wrong direction and down to a southern beach. We tried to be thoughtful on the road, but defensive driving skills are key. I could tell the locals just loved us (note sarcastic tone)!

After the sun had set we decided to keep 'er parked for the night. I took such a great delight in taking up a full parking spot at our hotel.

When it comes right down to it maybe there is a little bit of an asshole tourist in me after all.