True romance: witnessing the world's greatest sunset

Oia, on the northern tip of the crescent-shaped island, boasts a permanent population of only about a thousand.

That population is almost certainly doubled - if not tripled - in the late afternoon as visitors prepare for what is, let's face it, a pretty routine astronomical event.

But it's the setting for this astronomical event that is anything but routine.

Perched on top of sheer cliffs about 300 metres above the tranquil Aegean Sea, Oia is a maze of narrow lanes and steep stairways.

Navigation is not the easiest of tasks and pedestrians must have their wits about them as they negotiate the sometimes slippery marble paving.

With its white-washed buildings and many tiny churches, resplendent with shining blue domes, it as if you're walking through a postcard.

Which is not that surprising given so many Greek postcards and tourism books feature this very scene.

Eventually, we find a small al fresco bar near Oia's landmark windmill and order some Mythos beer and settle in for the afternoon.

We'll be here for a while - there's still three hours 'til sundown and already the crowds are gathering.

But you don't abandon a vantage point like this.

Far down below, in the large bay created by Santorini's volcanic caldera, a sailboat breaks the sun's shimmering reflection - one of many several sunset cruises that operate from the port near Fira.

Yep. This ain't a bad spot at all.

And its inhabited by a veritable United Nations - if the United Nations was almost exclusively Western.

There are Australians, Canadians, New Zealanders, Germans, Italians and even the occasional Greek filling every vantage point, their eyes fixed west.

And couples. Everywhere, there are couples.

Small talk abounds, as all the while, the golden orb continues its slow, westward journey, through a near cloudless sky.

Cameras perform "dry runs", looking for that perfect frame.

As the sun slowly slinks down behind the horizon, those camera shutters go wild as they capture the solar money shot.

And finally, as the last sliver of sun disappears below the horizon, seemingly the entire village breaks out in applause.

While the Earth's rotation is certainly something to be appreciative of - for no other reason than it provides a convenient window in which to sleep - I have never been inclined to applaud the fact.

But still, I enthusiastically join the ovation and applaud that great gig in the sky.

As enthusiastic as our applause may be, I suspect an encore is more than a little unlikely.

Then, in the twilight, the many couples turn to each other to exchange sweet nothings and a fair amount of saliva.

Feeling the romance in the air, I also turn to see ... my sisters and brothers-in-law.

Well, crap. Nothing's perfect, I guess. Time for another Mythos.

Not that long ago, I took the "one that got away" for a weekend at Byron Bay.

While the sun, surf and sand in northern New South Wales is heaven on earth, in the romantic stakes it has nothing on Santorini.

Somehow, I suspect things may have turned out a little differently had we watched the sunset in Oia, rather than sleep through the sunrise in Byron.

Live 'n' learn.