Santorini is beautiful.  Duh.  It's one of those places that has been photographed in so many ways and showcased in so many tryptophantic post-vacation family slideshows that it's difficult to do anything worthwhile with a camera.  At sunset in a place like this, it is often better to stop living life through the viewfinder.

  Heavily herded British, French, and German cruise ship toursheep outnumber native Greeks ten to one.  English is the de facto official language of the island; give a Greek a passing γεια σου and  he'll ask, looking pleasantly astonished, Are you Greek?

No, I just care enough to learn a few words.  Modicum of respect for the culture and all that. 

 A man rocks back and forth on the ground, cradling his deformed foot.  He murmurs, very quickly and without pause, Πλειζηλπμιπλειζηλπμιπλειζηλπμιπλειζηλπμιπλειζηλπμι.

It is not until after I pass him that I realize he is not speaking Greek.  He is saying Please help me, please help me.