Travel CHRONICLEs: when Greece changed me

Our culture sells us a powerful and dangerous illusion: the illusion of control. This notion permeates every aspect of our lives, subtly shaping our thoughts and behaviors in ways we often fail to recognize. It’s a message whispered from every corner of our existence, echoing in our workplaces, homes, and social interactions.

I believe our culture suffers from a deep-seated fear of simplicity. It's a paradox: we crave a simpler life, yet we are conditioned to believe that complexity equals sophistication. We build our lives like a chef who has lost their confidence, trying to mask mediocre ingredients with a heavy, complicated sauce. We clutter our schedules with endless activities, sports, and social commitments, secretly hoping that a busy life will feel like a full one. We accumulate possession

Our modern culture has a deeply dysfunctional relationship with joy that is both complex and troubling. In our relentless pursuit of happiness, we have transformed joy into a meticulous project, something that requires careful planning and management. We treat it as a commodity to be scheduled, managed, and ultimately consumed like any other item on our to-do lists.

I used to think that melancholy after a trip to Greece was just a normal part of returning to "real life." The quiet click of my own front door closing, the sudden, muffling silence of the hallway... I saw it as the sound of comfort. But lately, I’ve realized it's a sound that's both a comfort and a shock. One moment, you’re navigating a labyrinth of whitewashed alleys, the scent of night-blooming jasmine and grilled octopus in the air, the murmur of a foreign language a cons

When I booked the Greek Food Walking Tour in Athens, I thought I’d be doing just that — walking and eating. And sure, there was plenty of that. But what I hadn’t expected was how this journey through the winding streets of the capital would sneak into my soul and quietly rewrite the way I see food, culture, and even time itself. I met my guide, Eleni, under the clock tower in Monastiraki Square. It was early, the city still waking up, and the smell of warm bread from the near

I’ll be honest with you. I came to Mykonos expecting beach clubs, big beats, and bougainvillea. That glossy postcard version. I didn’t come for olives or wine. I definitely didn’t expect to walk away with a new way of thinking. But somewhere between the ancient olive trees and the clink of a wine glass in the golden dusk, I started to understand something the Greeks have known for thousands of years: that time, when savored properly, ferments into joy. It started in Marathi,

I came to Santorini for the views. Let’s get that out of the way. The brochures promised blue domes and endless skies, caldera sunsets that melt into the sea, and a kind of cinematic peace I thought I’d only find on screensavers. But it wasn’t the views that stayed with me. It was a glass of wine, in the middle of a vineyard, grown out of volcanic dust, and a slow dinner under a lavender sky that taught me something deeper than beauty.

I didn’t come to Athens to see the Parthenon. I mean, of course I did, but what I craved more than the postcards was the pulse of the real city. I wanted to hear it breathe — not in ancient marble, but in the clinking of coffee cups, the worn pavement under scooters, and the hurried laughter of locals with somewhere to be. That’s how I ended up on an “off the beaten track” walking tour with someone named Yannis — a soft-spoken, sharp-eyed Athenian who, within minutes, felt le

It started with the usual reasons. I booked the day cruise to Poros, Hydra, and Aegina because I had a free day in Athens and thought, “Why not see more?” I expected photo ops, a little sun, maybe a decent lunch on board. What I didn’t expect was to return with my entire sense of time—and how to live within it—shaken loose and reassembled in a quieter, better rhythm.

I went to Mykonos expecting beaches, cocktails, and whitewashed postcard alleys. What I didn’t expect was to spend a quiet afternoon in...

It all started with a coffee. Not just any coffee—this was Greek coffee, thick and earthy, served in a tiny cup in the square of...

I never thought I’d find something profound between a wedge of feta and a steaming cup of Greek coffee. But that’s what happened in...

I didn’t go to Naxos expecting anything life-changing. I came for a beach, maybe some ruins, definitely a glass of wine with a sea view. What I found was a lesson in slowness, rootedness, and the kind of joy that rises from the simplest things: dirt on your hands, warm eggs in your palm, the crackle of fire, and food that tastes of sun and soil.

If you’d told me a few months ago that the most profound lesson of my year would come to me over a sticky square of bougatsa and a glass...

I never thought I'd find myself hunched over a slab of marble in a village workshop, tweezers in one hand, tiny piece of stone in the...

I didn’t plan on painting silk in Athens. Honestly, I’d never even thought about scarves, let alone handcrafting one. But that afternoon, tucked into a quiet studio near the heart of the city, surrounded by light and color and the scent of coffee drifting in from the street below, something unexpected happened. I slowed down. I let go. And in that slowness, I met a version of myself I hadn’t spoken to in years.

I never imagined I'd find myself strumming an ancient Greek lyre in a quiet room in Thessaloniki, the same city where philosophers once...

I came to Corfu for the sun and the sea. What I didn’t expect was to leave with a new way of seeing the world. It was my third day on the island, and like most travelers, I’d been swept up in the postcard views—the turquoise water, the Venetian facades, the lazy hum of cicadas echoing through olive groves. I’d taken dozens of photos already. Quick snaps. Click. Swipe. Post. But none of them felt right. They looked like every other tourist photo. Empty somehow. Pretty, but sha

I wasn’t looking for a lesson. I just wanted something to do with my hands. Rhodes was a last-minute decision. I needed sun, silence, and...

It started with a wrong turn. I’d been walking the streets of Plaka, dodging souvenir shops and the hum of tourists, when I stumbled upon...

It was my fourth day on Paros. The wind was playing tricks again—rushing down narrow alleys in Parikia and lifting the corners of linen tablecloths like curious fingers. I’d just finished a freddo espresso at a little café near the old market street when I spotted the sign: Watercolor Workshop – Create Your Own Greek Masterpiece. I smiled. I had time. I had no expectations. I walked in.

I never planned to carve marble on my trip to Greece. I had come for the usual things—sunlight that bleeds gold, food so fresh it hums on...

They say every trip to Greece leaves a mark on you. I didn’t expect mine to be made of tile and glass. It happened on a Tuesday afternoon...

They said it was just a family-friendly cultural tour. A bit of Athens, a bit of history, a bit of green in the National Gardens. But what I walked away with was something that won’t gather dust on a shelf or be buried in photo archives. It was clarity. A strange clarity, sparked by brass gears, ancient math, and the slow ceremonial step of a man in a pleated skirt. Let me rewind. I was in Athens for a week with my son, Leo—twelve years old, wild about puzzles and robots. I b

I wasn’t looking for a spiritual moment when I signed up for a sculpture workshop in Athens. I just thought it would be something cool...

There's something incredibly special about the Greek summer. Having just spent ten glorious days in this stunning country, I can honestly...

Here's an interesting and thorough travel blog post that we discovered, about Athens. Enjoy... ----- I never developed a love connection...

Serena Tregoweth is a travel blogger, who (together with partner Matt) spent two weeks in Greece, this summer. What an exciting account...

Here's a nice travel blog that we discovered, from a nice couple calling themselves "PJTravellers". They were in Rhodes in May 2016 and...

The park that we visited today is just nicer, though - before to see it – I did not think that such a thing would be possible. What has...

Wendy Kay is a retiree who, together with her husband Roger, have set to explore the world. She says: "My hope is to find the magic,...

I spotted this interesting travel story, from fellow blogger Pierre-Alexandre's last year's visit to Thessaloniki and Mt. Athos. It's so...

We found this very engaging story about Llk's trip to Syros. She's from Phoenix, USA, and apparently she loved it, so we couldn't help...