Santorini, we know it from photos: the blue domes, the white houses, the Oia sunset. But the island has far more to offer than its postcards. It is on foot, on the trails that follow the caldera, that you discover its true face: a volcanic land shaped by fire and wind, where vines curl close to the ground, where cliffs plunge into a blue so deep it becomes vertiginous. Walking here is travelling back in time, feeling the warm earth beneath your feet, and understanding why this crescent of rock suspended above the sea has fascinated for millennia.
From Fira to Oia: the caldera trail
This is Santorini's signature trail, the one recommended to every visitor. Ten kilometres along the edge of the void, facing the caldera, with only the morning light and the immense blue of the Aegean for company.
You leave Fira early, when the sun still grazes the white facades and the lanes are nearly deserted. The path climbs gently towards Firostefani, the "balcony of the caldera," where houses cling to the cliff like swallows' nests. The view opens suddenly: the island of Nea Kameni, the sleeping volcano, floats in the middle of the caldera like a mineral dream.
You continue to Imerovigli, the highest point of the trail. The Skaros rock, a former Venetian fortress, juts out into the void. A small detour to explore it is worth every step. Then the path undulates, descends and rises, passes white chapels perched at the edge of the precipice, and crosses passages where the eye hardly knows where to rest, so much beauty is everywhere.
Arriving in Oia rewards the walk with its stone lanes, art galleries, and shaded terraces. You sit down for a late lunch: cherry tomato salad (the famous tomataki of Santorini), garden capers, a glass of chilled white wine. The trail is sun-exposed, so start early in the morning and bring plenty of water. Your feet will thank you, and your eyes even more.
Ancient Thera: between archaeology and panorama
On the rocky ridge of Mesa Vouno, between the beaches of Kamari and Perissa, the ruins of Ancient Thera have watched over the sea since the 9th century BC. The access trail climbs in switchbacks from Kamari, offering a wider panorama at every turn.
You ascend through an arid landscape, punctuated by thyme bushes and wild capers. The air is fragrant, the silence settles. Looking back, you see Kamari beach stretching below, a strip of black sand against the blue sea. On the other side of the ridge, Perissa appears, symmetrical and equally beautiful.
At the summit, the archaeological site spreads its remains across a natural terrace: an agora, a theatre carved into the rock, temples, houses whose walls still bear inscriptions engraved twenty-five centuries ago. The wind blows freely, carrying centuries of history. You imagine the inhabitants of this cliff-top city contemplating the same horizon, the same sea, the same light. It is a place where heritage and nature merge, where the walk becomes a journey through time.
Profitis Ilias: the summit of Santorini
Santorini's highest point rises to 567 metres, modest on paper but spectacular in reality. The path starts from the village of Pyrgos, one of the island's most beautiful, with its concentric lanes wound around a medieval kasteli.
The ascent crosses a landscape of low vines, the famous kouloura, baskets of canes woven close to the ground to protect the grapes from the wind. The dark, porous volcanic soil crunches underfoot. Higher up, the vegetation thins, giving way to bare rock and wild grasses.
At the summit, the monastery of Profitis Ilias stands in the light. The panorama takes in the whole island: the caldera, the white villages clinging to the ridge, the black beaches of the south, and on a clear day, the distant silhouettes of Ios, Sikinos, and Folegandros. It is a place of absolute serenity, where the world below seems very far away. You sit, you contemplate, you let the silence do its work.
From Oia to Ammoudi: the descent to the port
There is something ritualistic about this descent. From Oia, you take a stone stairway that plummets down the cliff in roughly three hundred steps, between ochre and rust-red rocks sculpted by the volcano.
At every landing, the view changes. The blue of the sea draws closer, the fishing boats grow larger, the smells of cooking rise to meet the walker. You descend into another world: Ammoudi, a tiny port huddled at the foot of the cliff, where a few tavernas line their tables by the water.
You settle in, legs still warm from the descent, and order fish grilled that very morning, sea urchins if in season, and a glass of cool Assyrtiko wine. Before you, the rocks plunge into clear water where you can swim after the meal. It is the perfect ending to a morning walk, the moment when effort transforms into the pleasure of living.
Akrotiri: the lighthouse and volcanic beaches
The southern tip of Santorini has a character of its own, wilder and more mineral. The Akrotiri lighthouse, solitary at the end of a dirt track, commands cliffs that drop straight into the sea. The sunset here is as beautiful as in Oia, and you are often alone.
A few minutes' walk away, the Red Beach reveals its natural theatre: a cliff of blood-red lava overlooking a cove of dark pebbles, all surrounded by intensely blue water. The contrast of colours is striking, almost unreal. You reach it by a short trail along the volcanic wall, a passage between worlds.
Nearby, the archaeological site of Akrotiri reveals a Minoan city buried under volcanic ash 3,600 years ago. It is sometimes called the "Pompeii of the Aegean." The paved streets, multi-storey houses, and delicate frescoes attest to a refined civilisation, frozen in the instant of catastrophe. Walking through these covered ruins is touching deep history, the kind that hides beneath the whiteness of the villages and the beauty of the sunsets.
The wine villages: Megalochori and Pyrgos
The wine of Santorini is a story in itself. Assyrtiko, the island's king grape, has grown here for centuries under conditions no other vine in the world faces: volcanic soil, constant wind, near-absence of rain. To survive, the winegrowers weave the canes into baskets (kouloura), creating those round, low shapes that dot the landscape like living sculptures.
A walk between Megalochori and Pyrgos crosses this unique viticultural heritage. Megalochori charms with its narrow lanes, sea captains' mansions with carved doors, and vaulted cellars where wine rests in cool darkness. You push open the door of a domain, taste a dry Assyrtiko with notes of citrus and flint, and understand that this wine carries within it all the minerality of the island.
Pyrgos, perched higher, offers from its medieval kasteli a complete panorama over Santorini. The lanes spiral upward, cats doze on the steps, the air smells of thyme and warm stone. It is a village that has kept its authenticity, far from the tourist buzz of Fira and Oia. You linger with pleasure, a glass of Vinsanto (local sweet wine) in hand, watching the sun decline over the caldera.
When to walk in Santorini
Santorini lends itself to walking from spring to autumn, but two windows stand out. From April to June, the island is at its finest: temperatures are mild, the light is limpid, the trails are calm, and the bougainvillea explode with colour. From September to October, the summer heat eases, the sea remains warm for swimming, and the island recovers a serenity that the months of July and August had taken away.
Avoid the height of summer: the heat is intense on exposed trails, and the crowds transform certain paths into processions. The shoulder seasons offer the best of Santorini, the one that hurried travellers never know.
Santorini is one of the jewels of the Cyclades archipelago, and each neighbouring island holds its own trails and its own wonders.
Looking to extend the escape? Explore all our trips in the Cyclades and browse our favourite trails in Greece.
Solène Roux
Responsable Éditoriale
