the story of Pansion Carlos

Time to get you acquainted with the peeps that bring this little corner of the island to life, the people of the fourteen-room Pansion Carlos. Pansion Carlos is located in the tiny village of Akrotiri on the island of Santorini. Main street Akrotiri is made up of about 100 yards of street. There are three restaurants, two mini-marts, an auto-repair shop, a car rental shop (conveniently located next to the auto repair shop). One bus stop, bus comes every 90 minutes or so, from 8am to 9pm.

Eva – mother, owner, cook, greeter, distributor of Santorini magic dust. Abruptly widowed about six years ago, and subsequently wore all black for two years straight. BTW, do you know how hot it gets here? I mentioned to her this trip how that blue fits her well and she smiles: “yes. no more black.” If you need it, she already anticipated it. She misses Carlos everyday, and you feel it. Speaks at least Greek, Italian, German, French, Spanish, and English, all well enough to converse just fine with the native-speaking customers. 99% of her life is spent at Pansion Carlos.

Maria – eldest daughter of Eva, probably late 20s. Asst head, treasurer, the money man, also concierge. She might be serving you moussaka in one hand and making a reservation for you on a lil boat for the next morning with the other hand. Knows what is going on around Santorini that you would like, months in advance. Just married to a man so classically-handsomely Greek I think his mug should be on the Greek wheaties box, if there is one. I need to get a pic of him.

Arsenio(s) – middle child of Eva. 17, tan, strong, wise beyond his years, horned-rimmed glasses, sly smile, knows what you did the previous night in the pub, but don’t worry, isn’t telling. Has a lead-foot but lacks a helmet on his scooter whipping around the winding Santorini roads. As one of the frequent summer visitors said last week, he has a lil’ bit of pirate in him.

Rafael – just turned 13, futball player extraordinaire, spunky, hides his cards well, ready to take you on in any game of skill on the pansion veranda, and doesn’t take losing to 32 year-old men well, when that extremely rare event happens. Would invite you to his birthday party even if he just met you. Five years ago he couldn’t speak a drop of English. Now he can understand just about anything you say. If you try to take a picture of him he’ll shake his head, lower his eyes, and demand with a thick Greek accent “no paparazzi please!”