To My Twenties

Well, just watched the last sunset of my third decade from Fira Town. Before I head out with some randoms in a few hours to a full moon party (ah, even la luna appears to have come out in her glory to bid a farewell), I thought I'd throw down some comments.

A few years back, I came across an almost pitch-perfect Kenneth Koch poem, "To My Twenties". I have shared it with a few friends as they hit the milestone. Now it is my turn. I wholeheartedly agree: "you never, ever, were stingy." For it was a young 20 year old kid who had never been further South than East Rutherford, New Jersey, further West than Oakville, or further North or East than St. John's, NFLD, that set off for Glasgow in the fall of 2000 for an undergraduate year abroad. It was there where it began, where the love (or as Socrates might say the need, for in a sense it is the same) of the beautiful thing that is travel/exploration/discovery was born.

Last year at this time, I was wandering the shores of Iceland and the arrondissements of Paris, wondering what might come of this year, since it was important to come to some decisions. And now, much more settled and content, I find myself in Santorini, 2 months or so into this marvelous 6 month globe trot, so happy with how all has transpired.

There are markers, moments when it is most appropriate to measure the life choices made according to what I have come to consider the true test of happiness. That test, as stated off-hand in a different context by an old friend at the outset of our first collective conquest of Dublin, can be put simply: "Are you living your life right?"

Only when the answer is obviously yes is it best. And it is obvious, I think, when you can say to yourself with confidence that you wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world than where you are. Since I very blatantly picked Santorini awhile back as the location for this birthday, it remains only to be asked and answered whether the choice turned out to be a good one.

Ancient Thira has not disappointed. It will never be considered my favourite place, nor will I be quick to return, in all likelihood. But I think I can say without much doubt or hesitation that it is the most spectacularly beautiful place I have ever had the pleasure to see. The camera's panoramic option has even been reluctantly attempted numerous times, in a vain and futile effort to capture the grandiosity of this place. It is - to use the words of Tom Wilson in perfectly describing Lake Louise upon first seeing it in 1882 - a "matchless scene".

I should have known on arriving. On the short ferry from Ios, standing near the back of the boat listening to the Ipod, there arose a sudden commotion, as if something or someone had fallen overboard. But no, it was simply a collective gasp as two dolphins were spotted, jumping repeatedly, one after the other, in the wake. As I looked back and saw them, as if out of the fresco at Knossos, there was nothing to do but marvel, shake the head, and mutter in amazement - please do excuse the language, but there really is no other way to express it in words - "Fucking Greece."

What a country, what an island. If you have to turn 30, and of course everyone does, you can do worse than with a bottle of semi-sweet Imiglykos wine under a full moon on the black sand beach of Perissa.