We were very happy to be staying now in Fira. We strolled through the town a little, explored a few little lanes, and climbed to the top of the town and looked west. Way down below, in the Caldera, a few cruise ships stopped to await the setting sun. Near the ships was the volcano which blew horrifically in 1644 BC, called Nea Kameni, as well as the island of Thirasia and another, Aspronisi.
Lots of little restaurants here offered the chance to dine and witness the sunset. We chose one and shared a seafood platter for two, with swordfish, octopus, codfish, calamari, prawns, and bream, served with lemon and olive oil. As we watched the sinking sun, convoys of donkeys would occasionally pass on the path just below our table.
One sunset and a finished meal later, we climbed down the three or four steps to the path, intending to consider our next move. Suddenly, I realised a stream of donkeys was about to collide with Jean. I pulled her back, but forgot there were steps behind me. Down I crashed, bashing the bone between my left elbow and hand and my backside. I hurt myself, but soon got up. My pride was dented too. There are apparently 330 donkeys on the island, and I made an ass of myself as well.
We found a church a little further along, which serves as part of the skyline from below. I walked in past lit candles, and looked at the image of Jesus above the altar. I thought to myself 'I've just been in His mother Mary's house near Ephesus'. I then thought about mothers in general, and lit a candle for my own mother.
We found a tour company and booked a tour for tomorrow. Down the street a bit later, we saw a bus get wedged between two street corners. It blocked traffic for 10 minutes, caused a spectacle, but eventually the driver saved the day.