Englishman in Halkidiki

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Two years ago I didn’t know what Halkidiki is.

Greece was a country I have heard a lot about, a country with ancient history, touristic sights – remarkable and enthralling, and some places too popular for their magnificent and picturesque views and their luxurious resorts. Only then very enthusiastic I booked a one week vacation in a place that seemed all wild and quiet, tranquil and far away from the crowds, a place that is not Cannes or LA, but is unique and inspiring. These all were my expectations and I can honestly state that I was not disappointed at all. When I landed in Thessaloniki, the capital of Northern Greece, there was another side of this impressive country that I noticed.

Travelling to Halkidiki – a lovely peninsula, in the Greek region Macedonia, I was left out of breath. 

History was combined with lovely little villages we were going through, villages  that were so honest and so true, without 5 stars hotels and fancy places to have dinner in, but simply those little white houses with blue roofs, the narrow streets, the olive gardens, the mountains and the beach, the small port and the boats, the fishermen and they being direct and true, telling you stories about places they have been to, islands and ships and boats. Bakeries, offering home-made delis, and taverns where orchestra was playing a traditional Greek song and the people were dancing and you were impressed, because they were so perfectly careless and wise. This place is their heaven and they are aware of this fact and don’t want something more in return – they have everything needed for flawless happiness and no money, no greed can move them. It was two years, when I didn’t know where Halkidiki is, and it is only now when I am buying a house here – a pass to eternal pleasures and pure bliss.

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