There I stood. On the cliffs of Oia, the iconic town atop the northern point of Santorini, Greece. This was my view. Five months of jumping around Europe like it was my own personal playground, and this was the grand finale. Something hit me as I gazed out at the blazing lightshow radiating across the sky. There's a funny thing about sunsets. When they begin, they seem to take forever to pass. The sun moves so slowly, never appearing to get any closer to that horizon. On its way, it shines a final light across the world, like close friends getting in one last wave goodbye before parting. But as the sun touches the horizon, you notice how fast it's actually moving, how close it is to disappearing. And the second you realize how fast it's going away, you want it to stay as long as possible. To light up the world, in which you feel so lucky to be alive. Yet it keeps going, eventually sinking below the horizon, leaving twilight in its wake. In that sunset, I saw my abroad experience. The second my feet hit French soil at the beginning of January, mid-May seemed a lifetime away. But over the past few days, time has sped up, bringing me closer and closer to that flight home on Friday, May 18th. I want to hold on to this experience as long as I can. I want to still see the sun shine on the landscape of these last five months. I'm not ready for them to disappear beneath a horizon and exist only in the darkness memory. Yet the sun keeps moving faster and faster as it sets on my abroad experience, shedding its last light on some incredible memories. Especially the one's I made over the past six days I spent in Greece. Like climbing up to the top of a rocky bluff, overlooking all of Athens.
Or lounging in the sun for 7 hours on our ferry from mainland Greece to Santorini, drinking Heinekens, and munching on all kinds of food like we were ocean royalty.
As the sun kept setting, more memories of my Grecian adventures kept lighting up in my brain. Arriving in Santorini's port, passing gigantic cruise ships and fishing boats, all bobbing on the surface of the water, juxtaposed in their size, but equal in their claim to the sea.
Hopping on ATV's, tearing through the dirt of the island, and whizzing past jaw-dropping, panoramic views of Santorini and the Aegean sea. Finding our own little corners of the island. Or even following a stray dog to an incredible beach, hidden away from the main road, where we swam out to rocks to jump into 20 ft. deep water, laid out in the sun, and threw rocks for the dog to fetch. (I named the little guy Chief, but a shopkeeper later told me the locals call this particular stray Emilio).
Taking a cruise on a wooden boat around the island, hiking up a volcano, eating fresh seafood, drinking rum and cokes, and jumping off the boat to swim in the middle of the Aegean Sea.
All of these moments flashed through my mind as the sun continued to set, and I couldn't help but wish that these great times would last forever. Because the sun wasn't just setting on the island of Santorini, it was setting on the most incredible experience I could have ever asked for. Not just here in Greece, but over the last five months in London, Barcelona, Amsterdam, Dublin, Marrakech, Rome, Florence, and everywhere else I managed to go. And especially Paris, a city where I've had some of the greatest experiences I will ever have. But, like my time abroad and any good sunset, the incredible has to be cherished while it lasts. Once it's gone, you must hold on to it in your memory and hope for another moment just as incredible to come along. So here's to that hope. That life's incredible moments keep coming my way.
No comments:
Post a Comment