Country in crisis?

Though cash-strapped, Greece has so much to offer its visitors that Stuart Forster finds himself floored

Greece, we are being told in news reports, is a country in crisis. The southern European nation has public debts of such magnitude — reported at €335.6bn and growing daily — that new stories are appearing daily relating to Greece’s impact on the Euro and even global economy. And as the summer tourism season approached, a significant number of tourists either cancelled their summer vacations or booked elsewhere.

Tourism, traditionally, is a significant contributor to the Greek economy. Around 195 lakh foreign tourists visited in 2009, contributing to 15 per cent of Greece’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP), so any drop, particularly when businesses are already feeling the pinch, is bound to have significant impact. Some tourists expressed fears that they might be left stranded without food, while others were concerned they might be caught up in demonstrations. To get a feel for how things really were, I headed to Thessaloniki, Greece’s second largest city, 515 km north of the capital, Athens.

As I flew towards Greece, the scenes depicting violent demonstrations as seen in television news reports were repeating in my mind’s eye. Travelling onwards from Thessaloniki towards Ouranoupoli, I kept my eyes peeled for evidence of a nation in debt and a population on the edge of civil unrest.

Frankly, there was nothing to be seen that might have caused alarm; no obvious evidence of a crisis. As a journalist looking for a story, maybe I should have been slightly miffed that neither were there uncollected rubbish piled high nor were there crowds of resentful demonstrators waving placards on the streets. Those, of course, are the kind of scenes that lend themselves well to telling photographs, ones that convey stories of the breakdown in municipal services and effectively depict deep-seated social frustrations.
Even the shops were open for business as usual. Everything I saw indicated that life was continuing as normal.

So where was the tension and the unrest that was being portrayed in the news?
Where’s the crisis?

My Greek is limited to basic greetings, so I headed to a cafe and sought out English-speaking Greeks in order to ask questions. I wanted to understand if Greece is a destination that holidaymakers could visit safely.

“There’s sometimes trouble in about four blocks of downtown Athens,” said Alex, a Greek man in his 30s. “The demonstrators meet in that area and if something’s going to happen, it’ll be there. But here in the north and out on the islands, you won’t see anything.”

I was sceptical. He had to be playing down the protests and problems, surely? On the television, the unrest seemed significant and widespread. I pushed him with more probing questions as we sipped our traditional Greek coffees towards the sludgy grinds that settled at the bottom of the cup.

“Really, you can visit Athens and even there, with the exception of a very small area of the city, you won’t see any problem,” he added.

Unfortunately, though, I didn’t have time to head down to the Greek capital to see if that was true. Yet, in the north of the country, throughout rural Chalkidiki and the towns I passed through, it was clear that the normal rhythm of life remained undisturbed.

In Thessaloniki, people were shopping during the day and went out drinking and dancing at night. In 2009, Lonely Planet ranked the city as the fifth best city in the world for partying and, despite the widely reported crisis, the bars and clubs were still busy. Business appeared to continue as usual in the hotels and restaurants I visited.

I suspected that the country’s economic problems must be making the climate tougher than normal for businesses, but there was no manifestly obvious reaction. If a waiter were to be stroppy or a shop attendant short with me, perhaps I’d be witness to some kind of reaction to the crisis we were told was gripping Greece. But, no, that was not the case.

The closest I came to hearing anyone complain about the situation was in a bar. “Our politicians are useless. They sit there, down in Athens, and do nothing,” lamented the speaker, who preferred to remain anonymous when I asked if I could quote him. From the way he was talking, I suspected that there might be an element of civic rivalry between Thessaloniki and Athens.

I came looking for evidence of a crisis but what impressed me most in northern Greece was the heartfelt hospitality that I experienced in hotels, restaurants and bars. This was best illustrated in a family-run cafe in the small town of Stageira, which is located close to Mount Olympus. The ruins of Ancient Stageira, the city in which philosopher Aristotle was born, back in 385 BC, are just five minutes distant. “We want people to come here and see what we can offer,” said Natasha Mavridou. I only popped in for a coffee but she offered me a slice of bougazou, a filo pastry cake dusted with icing sugar and filled with custard. She then brought out home-made marmalades. This wasn’t up-selling, it was genuine hospitality; she was keen that I try the food she prepared and refused to take payment for the bougazou.

Whether I settle my bills in Euros or Drachma the next time I’m in this part of the world remains in the balance. That said, any change to the currency used in Greece is unlikely over the next few months. Even if Greece leaves the Euro-zone — which some commentators suggest is likely to be avoided if possible, due to the wider impact on Europe -— it will take time to introduce a new currency.

The economists are convinced that Greece has big problems. They may be correct but, ultimately, the bigger economic picture is not affecting me as a traveller.

The sun was shining, the restaurants continued to serve food and the gas stations were still selling fuel. The bottomline is that I didn’t feel as if I was in a country in crisis. I’d be happy to recommend Greece as a 2012 holiday destination to friends and family.