In dreams of heaven and paradise you might walk through the marbled streets of Santorini. You might bask in a warm sun (my heaven is a warm one) and not think about what you'll do that day. Breakfast will appear on your balcony and you will drink your coffee while looking out over a vast horizon. Everything will be clean, always, and you will have a view of the sea. The buildings will be humble, and they will cling to the cliff. You will be able to, should you be so inclined, walk from building to building over low walls that serve only as a suggestion of separation. You will be able to jump into the sea from nearly any point and it will be a cool bath of perfectly clear water, rocks visible beneath the surface at the edge, opening to a crater (quite literally) in the center.
Walk down to the end, down hundreds of steps, and challenge yourself. Jump into the crisp water, and swim over to the small island with the church on it, and jump into the water. Your heart will pound, and you will be exhilarated, and you will be thrilled you did it. Eat fresh fish at the waterside restaurant to nourish yourself and marvel that this whole landscape was created by a volcano that washed up as far as Crete.
I was so saddened by the idea of leaving Santorini that I didn't take any pictures as I left. But, indeed, I am like Orfeo, and I needed to torture myself. I will be back, I will be back, I will be back.