On the Island of Santorini, are three lava beaches. One is made from black lava rock, another is red lava rock and yet a third, of white lava rock. These colors came about when different geological layers of the earth, became exposed and solidified with the lava from the volcanic explosion that occurred around 1646 BC. As a consequence, Nature has provided each beach, with its own uniqueness.
Black, red and white lava,
splashed with blue Aegean water,
When I visited the island of Santorini, I stayed at a hotel located directly opposite the caldera of the volcano, overlooking the Aegean, and facing toward North Africa. My room was built into a rather steep part of the cliff from which, I could see the small picturesque harbor port far below and the cruise ships mooring off shore.
Every morning to get breakfast, meant climbing up stone steps to the hotel’s terrace-30 feet above. The coffee served was laced with exquisite-intoxicating cinnamon spice, which wafted in the air from its pot, before you even poured a cup.
This haiku captures that morning ritual.
Climbing the steep steps,
for the cinnamon coffee.
A cliff-side breakfast.
One mid-afternoon to grab a bite and escape the heat we went inside a small cafe restaurant in the town of Molyvos, located on the eastern side of the island of Lesvos. We had were taken to a table with a westerly view, where long rays of the sun streamed through an old pane glass window. A large moth had also come inside and was desperately trying to escape its unintended prison. It repeatedly flapped its wings, while hitting the window in futility.
Moth at the window,
trying to leave the cafe,
fluttering its wings.
Like a lot people, I like my coffee in the morning. That cup of Joe is often a requisite for my morning rhythm. On a particular trip to Greece, I was staying in the town of Skala Eresou on the island of Lesbos. The first morning I was in dire need of a coffee and found one of the beach restaurants open for breakfast. I ordered an American coffee and what I got was a Nescafe. A Nescafe I had to make by pouring hot water through an individual filter top on a hard-plastic mug. I captured this in the following Haiku.
Nescafe French dark and bold,
fills the plastic mug.
Needless to say, the Nescafe tasted more like fuel than coffee. But in that moment, I realized that sitting on the outside deck overlooking the Aegean, with yesterday’s catch of octopuses drying in the sun, made that the best Nescafe-I ever had.