It's all Greek to me.
We are in Karvali, Greece – a small town next to a small city next to a bustling metropolis. We were in Thessaloniki for about an hour before we decided it was time to leave. After four days in fast-paced Istanbul and an 11-hour over night bus ride filled with restless sleep and a 3 AM mosquito-infested border crossing, all I wanted was to see the easy folding of translucent waves at my feet, to feel Aegean breeze in my hair, and to smell summer in my expensive coconut-infused European sunscreen.
We probably didn’t give Thessaloniki a chance. According to Lonely Planet, Thessaloniki is like Athens’ under-appreciated little brother. Doesn’t get as much hype, but stands well on its own. Apparently it’s got history, great food, a vivacious nightlife, and very cool people. Unfortunately, we were only enchanted for the span of time it took to find a lively food market, buy spinach and feta pastries and figs (all for under 2 euro), and sit down near the sea to enjoy our breakfast. After that, all we saw was another large city. I will have to go back again someday, but in the moment, we did what we had to do.
And what exactly did we do? We bought camping gear.
I’m not totally certain as to our thought process in this leg of the journey, but before I knew it, we were a tent and two sleeping bags heavier than earlier in the morning. After some quick research, we were on a bus to Kavala a resort town that reminds me of a less-ritzy Cannes. We quickly left Kavala to settle into what was to be our home for the next 3 nights: Camp Alexandros, Karvali, Greece.
We’ve been here one night and while I was skeptical at first, the location has won me over. Chris and I are the only campers on the grounds, but the woman who manages it says their primary source of business is wedding receptions. In fact, there will apparently be a couple of wedding parties this weekend. They will be big, fat, and Greek, no doubt, with lots of “opa!”’s shared.
Other than when the festivities take place, this will be a very slow, quiet, relaxing couple of days. The beach right next to the campground is rocky and unattractive, but a 50 meter walk down the beach leads us to smooth sand and clear waters. Of course, nothing can compare to Southeast Asia or the Caribbean islands, but this is still exactly what we wanted. We’ve mainly been eating from grocery stores and bakeries (blocks of cheese, olives, bread, tomatoes, all for dirt cheap), but last night the woman in charge made us a delicious dinner: rice and vegetables rolled with grape leaves, grilled squid, and a block of feta with herbs and freshly baked bread.
My only complaint? Ants. Tons of them. I’m afraid we mistakenly placed our tent last night in the city center of the ant colony (“Antlantis” as Chris quips). Hopefully tonight will be better out in Antlantis’ suburbs because those little buggers are feisty.
An overall observation about Greece on my second day here: to be honest, this is not at all like I expected. Northern Greece is a far cry from the perfectly white houses perched on a cliff sitting atop sparkling water. That is Santorini, a place where many northern Greeks only wish they could visit. I’m certain it is also the most often conjured image when wide-eyed foreigners (Americans in particular, I believe) think of Greece. I myself am guilty of it. Experiencing Northern Greece reminds the visitor of one very important fact: I am still in Eastern Europe. Yes of course I am always conscious of the idea that my present longitude is east of Austria. However, I constantly have to remind myself that I am in Greece, so I know that something of an adjustment is needed to my state of mind. It is almost as if I believe I am back in Bulgaria, because in my mind, Bulgaria is Eastern Europe, not Greece. Greece is its own oasis! It is pristine! It is romantic!
The Greece I see right now is absolutely beautiful, don’t get me wrong. It has immense, untainted, undeveloped beauty. Not beauty that was invented to dance in the minds of foreigners. And I think this makes it even better.
It’s not quite like Malaysia, but not like the Texas coast either. It is as warm as the Mediterranean, but not as well-kempt. In my mind this is very Eastern European: something always a little bit off, rugged beauty that might not be fit for a postcard, but is intriguing and irresistible once you get a taste of it.