- Santorini tower village sits high on the volcanic cliffs, away from the tourist herd
- Medieval alleys recall pirate attacks, local folklore, and gritty defenses
- Once the island’s capital, it is now a magnet for those craving authenticity
- Sprawling ruins, secret tunnels, and hands-on history
- Famous restaurant fueled the village’s surprise comeback
- Quiet local scene, with jaw-dropping views and legendary sunsets
- Unique museums and churches outnumber souvenir shops
- Tasting experiences, historic sites, and narrow lanes for wandering
- A must for anyone needing proof that Santorini isn’t wall-to-wall selfie sticks
Spending Data:
- Entry to museum “Santorini That Was”: 6–8€
- Meal at a traditional taverna: 15–25€
- Local wine tasting at Santo Wines: 20–35€ with sunset view
- Accommodation in historic guesthouses: 60–120€/night depending on season
An Awkward Restaurant Invasion
If the thought of another shoulder-to-shoulder stroll through Oia makes you break out in hives, head instead to Santorini Tower—a place that didn’t get the memo about becoming an influencer playground. Perched on a volcanic ridge with a bone-deep view of the Aegean, this village, once crowned as Santorini’s capital, now flies under the radar with the grace of a hawk in slow motion.
Start your climb past scattered fig trees and half-forgotten shrines. The village’s cobbled veins were laid when pirates weren’t punchlines—they were real, and they were hungry. The fortified gate, Kasteleporta, still looms as if waiting for their return. In the old days, locals didn’t lock doors—they threw boiling oil. No-nonsense defense, Cretan-style.
Around the church of the Holy Apostles, crumbling houses huddle like old men trading secrets. And if you hear tales about blood feuds or miraculous escapes over raki, don’t interrupt. That’s just history clearing its throat.
From Ghost Village to Gourmet Surprise
Before travel bloggers sniffed it out, Santorini Tower was for the hard-of-hearing, the soul-tired, and the map-disobedient. Then, like an operatic plot twist, came “Selene”—a restaurant that slid into a restored mansion and served food like it had divine permission. Suddenly, the village had visitors. They weren’t many, but they had taste.
“Selene” eventually moved to Fira—presumably for the parking—but by then the culinary whisper had turned into a low, steady hum. Santorini Tower became a name murmured by those who want more from a trip than a perfect selfie.
Today, the pace remains gloriously slow. Cats outnumber influencers. And a meal under the vines still tastes like a secret.
The Silence That Stays With You
The square sits like a suntrap, flanked by Cycladic houses with doors too blue to ignore. Bread bakes, bells ring, and life does its quiet little thing. The museum “Santorini That Was” offers a glimpse into the island’s dust-and-lava past—no filters, just truth.
Down the slope, Santo Wines pours Vinsanto into gold-rimmed glasses while the sun sets like it’s performing. The seats vanish early, so book ahead unless you’re the sort who enjoys mild disappointment and standing-room sunsets.
Where Tourists Get Lost—and That’s the Point
Santorini Tower doesn’t try to impress. It’s too busy being itself. You won’t find smoothie bowls or rooftop infinity pools. You’ll find lukewarm coffee served by someone’s grandmother who still uses the same grinder from 1953. You’ll find narrow alleys, chipped saints, and churches that haven’t changed their minds in centuries.
What you won’t find is a queue.
For those allergic to crowds, allergic to hype, or just craving a place that doesn’t pretend—it’s here. The tower still stands. The wind still howls. The sunsets still make you swear you’ll move to Greece.
And if you do get lost, well… good. That’s how the best stories begin.
