If Santorini were a play, April was the tragic second act. The island, usually crammed with flash-happy tourists, found its runways curiously untroubled by boarding passes and rolling luggage. Santorini air arrivals plunged by 34%, a number impressive enough that even the journalists on sponsored tours noticed. Locals blamed the drop not on another volcanic eruption but rather the more fashionable culprit of seismic activity that rattled the island earlier in the year.
Tourist confidence proved as shaky as the ground beneath Oia. The usual backbone of the island’s economy—air passengers—dialed down their enthusiasm, opting for destinations where the earth stays put. The Union of Santorini Hoteliers bravely projected optimism, pointing to the start of a robust international ad campaign orchestrated by the region and the Greek National Tourist Organization, with a respectable, if not desperate, budget of €600,000.
One might assume that’s enough to restore confidence, but hoteliers hold their breath until June, hoping a few photo ops and travel articles will do what tectonic stability could not.
Far from writing its own obituary, Santorini likes to remind the world of its age-old appeal: breathtaking views, volcanic rock formations, storybook sunsets, and culinary feats masquerading as local produce (eggplants that wish they were famous, tomatoes that taste of sunburn and ambition). Mayor Nikos Zorzos, not one for understatement, estimates a theoretical capacity of 3.6 million tourists per year—perfect for anyone who enjoys elbowing strangers for a selfie.
The classical walking paths from Fira to Oia and Perissa to Ancient Thira remain, for now, distinctly less trafficked. Meanwhile, the wine trade dusts off its storied traditions, praying tourists soon trade worries for a glass or three of Assyrtiko.
Who said recovering from a shaky start would be easy? In Santorini, hope springs eternal, but so do earthquakes—along with port delays, bureaucratic acrobatics, and the small matter of convincing tourists that a little rumble is just part of the island’s charm. Welcome to Greece’s most idyllic challenge: where air arrivals drop but the irony remains at an all-time high.
