3500 years ago, here was the civilization’s avant-garde. The world of the king Minos, the Labyrinth, the Minotaur, Daedalus and Icarus. In one moment, everything disappeared. The eruption of the volcano of Thira island has thrown the ground in the obscurity and history was altered forever. The isle itself is a fragment of the sunken volcano. Each stone has risen from the deep, stretched, got cold and then formed the island as we know it today. Santorini is the white paradise in a sea of blue. Red and black sands, hundreds of meters tall beaches, houses of a blinding white, with cerulean roofs and a light which vibrates in warm reflexes, leaving elongated shadows on the white bricks of the terraces. Under the hot sun, life has a dawdling course. A murmur of steps on the thin streets, bazaar hums, aromas and twirling shimmers, everything emphasizes in a charming music. Sitting in a rooftop restaurant, sheltered from the pounding Mediterranean sun by gaily decorated awnings, we gazed upon the streets and the horizon. It’s a timeless attraction on the back of a temperamental sea monster.