Santorini stands as one of Greece’s most powerful tourism assets—and among the world’s most instantly recognizable and distinctive destinations. To understand how it got there, we rewind to 1971: 55 years ago, a slim black-and-white booklet titled simply Guide to Santorini was published. Its pages capture a different era—one in which Santorini had only just begun to emerge on the traveler’s radar, long before its caldera, Fira, Oia, and surreal landscape became planetary icons.
A Glimpse Into a Bygone Santorini
Today, millions know Santorini—even without ever setting foot on the island. Its dramatic volcanic terrain, iconic white-and-blue architecture, cliffside villages, indigenous wines, and artisanal products have coalesced into a globally resonant tourism identity. Yet behind today’s postcard-perfect image lies a decades-long evolution—one that began when infrastructure was minimal and visitors came not for luxury or Instagram moments, but to discover a place still largely unknown.
The 1971 guide—now a historical artifact—offers a rare window into that earlier reality. Authored by Petros Delendis, a man deeply rooted in the island and among the first to recognize its untapped potential, the booklet was both practical and visionary. In a section titled “Present-Day Santorini,” Delendis offers straightforward advice to travelers—advice that reads today like a dispatch from another world.
Just 75 Beds—and No Harbor
On accommodation, he notes plainly: “Santorini today has approximately seventy-five (75) beds.” That figure reflects an island where tourism was still embryonic—no boutique hotels, no cave suites, no infinity pools overlooking the caldera.
Maritime access is described with equal candor: “It has no port, nor is it easy to build one—due to the great depth of the waters to the west; to the east, because of sedimentation.” The absence of a proper harbor meant arrivals were arduous, often involving small boats shuttling passengers up steep steps from the sea—a practice still echoed today at Skala.
Water scarcity is addressed with quiet pragmatism: “It has neither lakes nor rivers; yet when winters are rainy, water is abundant.” Only one location—Zoodochos, home to a namesake chapel—was noted for having running water. Rainwater was collected in cisterns and treated as a precious household resource.
Modest Beginnings of a Tourism Economy
Beaches? The guide highlights only Kamari and Perissa as suitable for swimming—long before they were lined with sunbeds, cafes, and water sports vendors. Restaurants and guesthouses were scarce, and their mention in the guide now carries historical weight: they represent the very first nodes of what would become a thriving, internationally celebrated tourism economy.
This modest beginning—75 beds, no port, rainwater cisterns, two beaches—makes Santorini’s ascent all the more remarkable. What began as a quiet discovery by a handful of curious travelers has grown into a global phenomenon—without losing the elemental character that made it extraordinary in the first place.