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Go now to see Santorini like never before – empty

Kyriakos Mitsotakis, the prime minister, staged a press conference against the flattering backdrop of Santorini’s world-famous sunset to announce that Greece was “open for business” - getty
Kyriakos Mitsotakis, the prime minister, staged a press conference against the flattering backdrop of Santorini’s world-famous sunset to announce that Greece was “open for business” - getty

The Instagram pin-up of Greece welcomed two million visitors in 2019. This year, nobody knows how many will turn up

“PIGLETS FOR SALE”. Scribbled in Greek, the sign pinned outside the shop struck an unexpected note on Santorini, where most signs, neatly painted in English and sometimes Chinese, point you in the direction of a “verry nice sunset” [sic] or the “best volcano view”.

Apart from the pet shop (which also sells fishing, hunting and boating equipment) and a handful of supermarkets, takeaway souvlaki stalls and coffee joints, almost every shop and restaurant on the island was shuttered late last month.

On June 13 – two days before Greece’s borders partially reopened after almost three months – Kyriakos Mitsotakis, the prime minister, staged a press conference against the flattering backdrop of Santorini’s world-famous sunset to announce that Greece was “open for business”.

When I arrived a couple of days later, there was little evidence to back this up. With all international flights grounded until July 1, and only three domestic flights a day from Athens, Santorini’s half-finished airport was deserted. In the island capital, Fira, every jewellery shop on “Gold Street” was closed. Almost every hotel was still in hibernation.

Fira - Getty
Fira - Getty

Without the usual armada of catamarans and barrage of cruise ships, the submerged caldera looked naked, its navel of solidified black lava smouldering with even greater intensity. A single white sailboat inched across this expanse of silvery blue – a spectacle that was mine, all mine, as the only guest at The Vasilicos, a seven-suite hotel poised on a cliff edge.

“We were a socially distant hotel long before social distancing,” said Artemis, the hotel’s upbeat sommelier, gesturing towards the huge terracotta terraces, screened by giant geraniums and volcanic boulders that glistened in the sunshine.

On cue, a squabble of seagulls performed a slow-motion dance routine, gliding in concentric circles, before landing on one of the whitewashed roofs in single file, then swooping off one at a time. I could have sworn they were two metres apart.

The beaches have been stripped of influencers - getty
The beaches have been stripped of influencers - getty

Sheltered below the 200-year-old monastery of Saint Nicholas, The Vasilicos is situated at a safe remove from Imerovigli, a white tumble of interlocking roofs and balconies, domes and chimneys. A quiet study in good taste, the hotel’s tiered suites are expansive in comparison to most yposkafa, the humble cave houses burrowed into Santorini’s challenging landscape.

Once the summer house of a charismatic art collector who fell for Santorini in the 1980s, The Vasilicos still feels like a home; not least because of the endearing staff, who walk the tricky tightrope between obliging and familiar with finesse. This combination of peaceful seclusion and genuine warmth felt just right at this precarious moment for travel. The complete absence of tourists on an island that has become wholly reliant on tourism felt both wonderful and surreal. The Instagram pin-up of the Greek islands, Santorini welcomed more than two million visitors in 2019.

Five meaningful experiences on Santorini
Five meaningful experiences on Santorini

That’s a lot of people for a small island with a population of around 15,000 – and a huge strain on the island’s fragile infrastructure and ecosystem. This year, nobody knows how many tourists will turn up. Anecdotal evidence suggests that around one third of hotels on Santorini will open this season. The rapacious hoteliers with multiple properties intend to open only one, rewarding the lucky guests able to make the trip with upgrades. Although cancellations outweigh reservations, most small hotel owners are gamely soldiering on to avoid laying off loyal staff.

Both business owners and seasonal workers are nervous about the possibility of tourists importing Covid-19 to an island that bypassed the pandemic thanks to an early and draconian nationwide lockdown. The Greek government’s U-turn over its initial policy to test all incoming travellers for Covid-19 – opting for random spot tests instead – is a high-risk strategy, especially for more isolated islands than Santorini, which have limited healthcare facilities and transport links.

Right now, though, Santorini feels like the safest, most beautiful place in the world. There are no sunbeds on the black pebble beaches; only a few families picnicking on meatballs and watermelon under wonky parasols. In Oia, the usual crush of people, filtering the sunset through their phone screens, has vanished. There are no Asian couples posing for faux wedding shoots, no blonde influencers straddling whitewashed walls in hot pants. I seemed to be the sole resident of Imerovigli, apart from a shadowy figure listening to a tinny transistor radio behind the lace curtain of a tiny house cloaked in bougainvillea.

You'll have views like this largely to yourself - getty
You'll have views like this largely to yourself - getty

“It’s an incredible privilege to see Santorini like this – I’ve never experienced anything like it in my lifetime,” said Yannis Bellonias, as we surveyed the empty fishbowl of the caldera from Vora, three high-impact villas carved into a cliff face. Slender, soft-spoken and faintly rakish, Bellonias is a major player in Santorini’s tourism industry. His family opened one of the island’s first travel agencies in the early 1980s. What started as a seasonal sideline mushroomed into a business empire including hotels, luxury villas, and rental cars. It’s the kind of success story that has played out in many local households, fast-tracked by the influx of cruise ships, day trippers, and Chinese tourists during the past decade.

Today, the few locals who are not directly involved in the tourism industry depend on it indirectly – from construction workers to taxi drivers and farmers. Even the high-school physics teacher, Thanos Papagiannopoulos, moonlights as a walking tour guide during the summer. After stints on the wildly remote islands of Amorgos and Sikinos, Papagiannopoulos moved to Santorini five years ago. He wasn’t prepared for the high prices, heavy traffic, or lack of affordable housing, but he has tapped into the underlying magic that no amount of unregulated construction and careless consumerism can diminish: the comfort of rituals, tight-knit communities, and rural traditions that run as deep as the volcanic fissures in the crater’s abyss.

Perissa beach - iStock
Perissa beach - iStock

If you book a tour with Santorini Walking Tours, Papagiannopoulos will share unimaginable secrets with you: chapels suspended in the perforated cliffs, hot springs bubbling up through the lava, a zigzagging path to a rocky outcrop from which you can dive into the caldera.

Papagiannopoulos lives in the dust-coloured kastelli (fortified castle) of Emborio, a medieval village marooned above the (now empty) fray of Perissa beach. Churches almost outnumber the houses. There is only a smattering of Airbnb rentals amid the pressed plaster cottages, but the quaint village has become a favourite backdrop for wedding photographers.

“Only one bride and groom have come by all month and they were Greek,” Georgia Zampeli confided, as we chatted over homemade baklava in her living room, surrounded by a dazzling tableau of religious iconography, family photos, and dolls in hand-sewn outfits. A local who has lived here all her life, Zampeli still works as a seamstress in her seventies. Pin-sharp, with shining eyes and a cloud of white hair, she was embroidering sequins on to a velvet altarpiece, destined for a church festival. Her husband sat behind her, a quiet but comforting presence.

Their house sits at the entrance to Emborio. Zampeli has a habit of plying passers-by with homemade biscuits. Once, she was making a batch of tomato fritters when two foreign women peered into her porch, tempted by the aromas. Zampeli offered them a taste. Suddenly, 30 people were clamouring around her front door. “I didn’t realise it was a tour group. When I came back inside, the whole tray was gone,” Zampeli said.

This kind of spontaneous generosity is what the Greek hospitality industry was built on. “Now, people want gold, not god,” Zampeli said matter-of-factly.

santorini harbour - iStock
santorini harbour - iStock

Long before the lure of the tourist dollar, Santorini’s most successful exports – cherry tomatoes, wine, and pumice stone quarried from the teetering cliffs – brought great wealth to the island’s landowners and shipowners. A terrible earthquake in 1956, which destroyed hundreds of homes and caused dozens of casualties, signalled a sharp decline in the island’s fortunes. Tourism kick-started Santorini’s economy again in the 1970s; it has since altered the landscape almost beyond recognition. From Emborio, you could once see a sea of red tomatoes as far as the shore. Now it is a sea of white houses.

The value of land has put enormous pressure on the island’s acclaimed wine industry: the price of grapes has shot up fivefold in recent years. “Planting low-yield vines hardly makes financial sense when you could sell a plot of land for €200,000 [£181,000] for someone to build a hotel,” said Yannis Valambous, founder of one of Santorini’s wineries, Vassaltis Vineyards.

“Teachers, doctors and waiters can’t find an affordable place to live, but hotel owners are making a fortune. Why not build housing for their staff instead of another hotel? Why not subsidise vineyards and sell the grapes to the wineries at a reasonable price? It’s time to tone down the excesses and start investing in infrastructure that’s important to locals and will create a better experience for the people who come here.” As the prime minister’s press conference proved, the photo opportunity and the reality of Santorini are two different things. But this year, visitors will experience the island’s raw beauty unadulterated.

The red and black beaches will be gloriously free of sunbeds and jet skis. You won’t get stuck behind a snarl of coaches, have to jump out of your taxi and run down the hairpin bends to Athinios port, trailing luggage, so you don’t miss your ferry. You won’t have to grapple with selfie sticks to watch the sunset from Oia, or anywhere else. There will be no need to make restaurant reservations weeks in advance. The local winemakers, chefs, shop and hotel owners will have time to chat. They might even offer you some piping hot tomato fritters, too.

It might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Or perhaps this shift to more meaningful and thoughtful travel experiences will become part of the new normal.

Getting there

Greece is included on the list of countries from which UK visitors can return without the need to quarantine; this applies from July 10. Direct flights to Greece resume on July 15. Aegean Airlines (aegeanair.com) flies several times a day to Santorini. Information: discovergreece.com/cyclades/santorini

Where to stay

Of the seven suites at The Vasilicos (thevasilicos.com), the most intimate is Efta, a romantic nook on the rim of the caldera; if you want to make a grand gesture, book the Belvedere for its huge terrace. Don’t miss the tour de force, a five-course degustation menu available for just two tables at a time (including non-guests, if you ask nicely). For something self-contained, try Vora (voravillas.com), three ultra-exclusive villas dangling over the precipice, or Cycladica (cycladica.com), a cluster of beautifully restored cave houses in Oia, owned by a family of architects who have worked hard to preserve the village’s architectural heritage.

Where to eat

As Santorini’s wines have grown in stature, local wineries have developed increasingly sophisticated tasting rooms. Vassaltis Vineyards (vassaltis.com) has the most exciting food and wine pairings, while Venetsanos (venetsanoswinery.com) has sensational views. The wine list at Oia Vineyart (oiavineyart.gr/en) ticks off the island’s greatest hits, served with Cycladic meze and heaps of charm in a courtyard and roof terrace hidden in Oia’s backstreets.

Aktaion (aktaionsantorini.com) in Firostefani has been serving white aubergine rolls with feta and mint since 1922; here, the caldera views come without the sky-high prices. Overlooking the fishing harbour of Vlichada, To Psaraki (topsaraki.gr) is the quintessential seaside taverna; order the smoked eel and lentil salad and swordfish skewers. Pentozali, a Cretan kafenion in Mesaria village, serves a few delicious dishes under the eucalyptus trees, such as lemony greens and beef ragout with spaghetti.

• The best boutique hotels in Santorini