Akrotiri Beach Santorini

Akrotiri Beach Santorini; a place where you’re technically not supposed to go, but plenty do anyway. I visited Santorini one August (potentially the worst time to visit the island, but I had an absolute blast anyway), and hiked from the red sand beach to the sleepy village of Akrotiri, which seems a million miles away from the glossy, tourist-filled cliffs of Oía and Fira.

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The bus to Akrotiri

I thought the bus would never come. When it did, it almost drove off without me, slamming it’s doors shut in defiance until me and my three waiting pals (all complete strangers), started running alongside it and yelling at the driver on my behalf. The door sprung open again and I clambered on, a flustered mess from simply standing still in the brutal August sunshine. Thank goodness for air conditioning and thank goodness for more assertive strangers.

Santorini is shaped like a rough comma around a caldera, and the bus was trundling down the bottom of the curved punctuation mark from Santo Wines– the winery on the cliffs- to Akrotiri, all the way at the far end. Almost, but not quite, at the point where the pen would leave the page. It was mid afternoon, which everyone knows is the worst point to be heading out into the sunshine; but in Santorini the buses aren’t the most regular of things, so it was now or never as far as I was concerned. Seize the day! Top up the suncream! Explore the world!

Pulling into a car park where everything did indeed have a tinge of red about it, the bus driver announced ‘Akrotiri! Red sand beach! Last stop!’ and off we all stepped, from behind the darkened windows of the air conditioned bus, to the dazzling sunshine of the Santorini sky. There weren’t many people on the bus, despite it being the height of tourist season, so it didn’t take long for the passengers to disperse, disappearing up cliffs or dirt pathways.

A sign pointed to the Akrotiri Archaeological Site. But with only an hour until closing time I decided to skip it; however this ruined city is the most important historical place on the island. Ancient Akrotiri was a thriving Minoan city which was engulfed by a volcanic eruption- the same one that created the caldera and changed the entire shape of the island- and just like Pompeii, the city was perfectly preserved.

Unlike Pompeii though, the citizens of Akrotiri apparently knew that the volcano was about to erupt. Their houses and possessions are all here, but no human or animal has ever been found in the excavations.

Mixed messages

One exceedingly tanned man in denim cut-offs and a leather waistcoat ran to catch up with me as I drifted up a slope, in the direction that I thought I was most likely to find Akrotiri Beach. “Is this the way to the red sand beach?” He asked, slightly out of breath.

“I think so. But I’m not 100% sure to be honest.”

It was true pals, I wasn’t 100% sure. He jogged off to find someone else to ask, sweating in his leather and denim get-up. I was quite relieved as I’d been genuinely worried he was about to tag along with me for the duration of my Akrotiri adventure; that sort of thing just seems to happen to me sometimes, particularly with strange men in strange outfits. I once spent almost two hours listening to the tales of a depressed man dressed as a gorilla who’d recently joined a bonfire society. And even from a distance they can strike- like the naked neighbour in Bordeaux, for example. So I was glad to see that he was clearly simply on a mission to reach Akrotiri Beach as fast as possible, and that was that.

The path curved upwards, past a gleaming white church built into the cliffs, where a row of quad bikes lined up. Quad bikes are the most popular way to get around this island (way more popular than using the bus, I’ll tell you that for free), and this little white church is the closest they can get to Akrotiri Beach before the drivers have to get off and continue on foot. There were cars parked up until this point as well, and although it became clear that I was definitely on the right track to reach the red sand beach, I was getting a bit confused about whether the beach was actually open to visitors.

I spotted a couple of signs half-buried in dust and overgrown with bushes, warning no entry. And a couple more signs pointing to the Red Sand Beach. A few cafes and bars clustered around the end of the pathway, one declaring it was the last place to get a drink before the red sand beach. There were a lot of mixed messages going on around here.

I continued on the path towards the sound of a man playing a guitar over a backing track on a little amp. He was sat at the top of a cliff under the shade of an umbrella, collecting coins in his hat. I’ll be honest, the pop music was a strange addition to the atmosphere of this increasingly strange place.

But the view from here was brilliant.

view of Akrotiri beach Santorini red sand

people walking down the rocks in Santorini

In the sunshine, the rough cliffs were a terracotta-red, and the twinkling sea was the perfect shade of turquoise. Red rocks peeped out from the calm water, dotted with people resting in the style of the Little Mermaid waiting for Scuttle. Beach-lovers were picking their way down the crumbly cliffside carrying stripy oversized beach bags and giant inflatables, spreading outwards once they reached the bottom, across the sliver of blackish-red beach in full glare of the sun. It was narrow, but packed full of people. I spotted the leather-waistcoat man in the distance near the bottom of the cliffs. If it weren’t for the denim and leather he would have been completely camouflaged into his surroundings.

It’s clear why this is one of Santorini’s most popular beaches; the vivid colours of the landscape are nothing short of spectacular. The cliffs and rocks are this colour because they’re made of volcanic rock; iron-rich lava turns red when it oxidises- like metal when it turns to rust- creating this rather beautiful rusty-looking spectacle next to the cerulean sea.

It turns out that the beach really is off-limits. Sort of. Remnants of a fence were visible in places at the top of the viewpoint I was stood on, and more bits of dust-covered signage here and there. The beach is so narrow that the only place to sunbathe is directly beneath the cliffs; and any seasoned beach-goer knows that directly beneath a cliff is not a wise place to sit. Cliff falls and landslides can happen at any time without warning, so although there’s nothing stopping visitors from heading down to Akrotiri Beach (aside from the deconstructed quarter-of-a-fence), if you visit be aware that you’re entering at your own risk.

Did I head on to the beach? Yes, yes I did. I entered at my own risk. And if the beach hadn’t have been so busy, I may well have stayed. The sun was so high in the sky that the heat was almost unbearable, and the sea was the most inviting that I’d ever seen it. It was practically begging me to jump in.

But it was truly so crowded that it just wasn’t my cup of tea. Walking along the sand was basically like walking on hot coals, so I walked the length of the cliffs in the water, as far as the little snack bar at the end. (For a place that’s off-limits, there really are an awful lot of businesses around.)

tourists walking down the cliff to Akrotiri red sand beach Santorini

is it safe to go to Santorini red sand beach

Hiking to Akrotiri Village

Always up for a challenge, particularly in the heat of the Greek sun, I took one look at the steepest and highest hill climb I’d seen in a long old time, and decided I should definitely walk up it. I had approximately half a bottle of now very warm water with me, and not a drop more sun cream.

My mission whilst in Santorini was to discover the lesser-known spots of the island, and I was 80% certain that if I made it to the top of the hill I would be pretty close to the village of Akrotiri. “Fingers crossed I don’t die.” I thought to myself. Two or three cars passed by to get to the car park near the bar on the beach, and I wondered if the drivers thought I’d gone mad watching me clamber uphill with sweat pouring into my actual eyeballs.

There was nothing but dry plants and silence all around me, with the earth full of fissures and cracks and dust. As I got higher up the hill the bright blue strip of sea that I was walking away from became even more enticing.

Past a white church at the top of the hill. Greece is full of churches, whether in the middle of cities or the middle of nowhere. This one was in the latter. I knew that finding the church at the top of the hill didn’t necessarily mean I was anywhere closer to civilisation, thats just not how it works round here.

Rounding a bend, where a couple on a quad bike generated a ginormous dust cloud in their wake as they whizzed past me. Past a car covered in several years worth of white dust and almost entirely devoured by a cactus. And finally there was the village of Akrotiri.

A less deserted hike in Santorini: from Fira to Imerovigli and Skaros Rock

white church with backdrop of the blue sea

The village of Akrotiri

The people of Greece know better than to stroll around in the middle of the day. The sun is way too powerful, and they know better than to subject themselves to all those UV rays. Unlike the English. i.e. me Alex Coleman.

The warren of tiny alleyways running across the hills of Akrotiri were completely deserted. Occasionally I heard a thread of a radio playing from behind a beaded curtain on a door, but other than that everything was silent. The white paint on the traditional Cycladic houses bounced the sunlight away, keeping the inhabitants cool.

I found my way to the old Venetian fort- the Venetians once controlled everything around here- and headed up to the top, where a massive Greek flag flapped in the wind. Being here was like stepping back in time. I thought I’d managed to escape the crowds when I decided to stay in Pyrgos, but Akrotiri was on a whole other level.

view of the village of Akrotiri Santorini

Deciding it was time to head back, I made my way down to the bus stop. I passed two girls in their early twenties dressed in pastel coloured PVC dresses and carrying tiny handbags, who I’m pretty sure had been expecting something different entirely from this village. They were halfheartedly photographing each other but gave up and joined me in the bus stop, looking angry at the lack of anything to do in Akrotiri. (There really is nothing very much to do in the village itself; just walking around and appreciating it is pretty much it. Although I did spot at least one taverna.)

I thought the bus would never come. One hour and twenty five minutes later, it did.