The Feel Good Way

Do you love to travel? How do you like to explore the world? For me, nothing beats the freedom of a road trip.

There’s something deeply satisfying about hitting the road with a minimal itinerary, deciding on the go whether to stay longer in a place or move on. If we love it, we stay. If we don’t, we keep driving. We always choose the scenic routes—mountain roads over highways, detours over direct paths. The slower, the better.

That’s why cruises have never appealed to me.

That said, when my parents invited us to join them, we gladly said yes. This time, it wasn’t about the how of traveling — it was about the who. We chose the experience, and the time together, over our usual preferences.

Cruising is their favorite way to see the world, and to be fair, it’s one of the most accessible ways for older travelers to keep exploring. And for that reason alone, it’s worth it.

But I’ll be honest: cruises just aren’t my thing.
And yet… here I am. On a cruise. 

I don’t like the rigid schedules. You’re taken from place to place, with only a short time on land before having to return to the ship. There’s no lingering over dinner in a local restaurant as the sun sets, no quiet mornings watching a place wake up. Those magical golden hours? Always spent at sea. Being a photographer I don’t even take my camera out.

Then there’s the mass tourism factor. Cruises are the perfect example of it—massive groups arriving in ports, dozens of buses lined up to shuttle people through the same spots, often at the same time. There’s nothing authentic about it.

And let’s not ignore the environmental and economic cost. The sky turns brown from their exhaust, and I don’t even want to imagine the waste they leave behind—both in the ocean and onshore. While passengers may flood a destination for a few hours, most spend little to nothing locally. The profits go straight back to the cruise companies, not the communities they briefly visit.

Nowhere is the impact of cruise-driven mass tourism more obvious than in Santorini.

It’s September — supposedly the low season — yet when I look into what we can actually do on the island, the biggest challenge turns out to be simply getting up to it. Why? Because five cruise ships are anchored today.

Yes, five. As if one isn’t already overwhelming.

The line for the cable car is impossibly long, stretching endlessly down the port. So we decide to hike up instead — a 30-minute climb up the steep stairs to Fira. But it’s not just a hike. We share the path with dozens of donkeys.

Yes, donkeys. Apparently, riding one up the stairs is sold as a “local experience” for tourists. In reality, it’s chaos. We move quickly -fortunately we both have a good physical condition-, trying to avoid getting pushed by the animals, most carrying tourists who have no idea how to guide them. It’s cramped and it smells, it’s hot and we are all sweaty.

When we finally reach Fira, it’s packed. Streets overflow with people. It’s wall-to-wall tourists and souvenir shops selling the same mass-produced souvenirs on every corner.

Still holding on to some hope, we take a taxi to Oia — said to be the most beautiful town on the island, famous for its iconic blue-domed roofs.

Those blue roofs are what I’ve been wanting to see for years. Back when I was 18, on a school trip to Greece, I bought a little painting of them. Ever since, I’ve dreamed of seeing them in real life.

We make our way through Oia’s narrow, winding streets — up and down, step after step — until we finally reach the spot. And there they are. The blue roofs.

But so are the crowds.

Dozens of people are crammed into the same tiny viewpoint, all waiting for their turn to snap the perfect photo. It’s not peaceful. It’s not magical. It’s just another box to tick.

I snap the photo, take in the view — and that’s it.

We do manage to find a lovely little restaurant just outside the town, far from the crowds. It’s quiet, peaceful, with no hint of the chaos happening in the center. The view is stunning, and the Greek food is absolutely delicious.

But soon, it’s time to leave.

Give me a winding mountain road over a cruise deck any day.