Greece > Arrival in Greece

Just before seven in the morning, I get off at Sassenheim Station. The platform is still quiet. The Sprinter train to Schiphol pulls in. I board at the same time as a KLM flight attendant. She has a large suitcase with her as well. As a joke, I ask if she can take my travel bag too. We start chatting. Unfortunately for me, she has a flight to Quito, Ecuador. Because of flight schedules and mandatory rest periods, she will be away from home for five days. She’s particularly concerned about the high altitude—Quito is four thousand meters above sea level. “Sometimes it affects you,” she says, “other times not at all.” I won’t have to worry about altitude; I’m on my way to Thessaloniki in Greece. I’m going on a tour of mainland Greece and the Peloponnese peninsula. Our conversation passes quickly, and before I know it, we’ve arrived at the airport. As I walk through Schiphol, I notice how well everything is signposted. In a glance, I know exactly where to go: check-in at desk five. A steward welcomes me at Transavia. I weave between the posts, where lines of passengers sometimes form in busier times. Today, there’s no one ahead of me. I can walk straight to the counter. A friendly lady checks my boarding pass and asks for identification. Surprised, I hand over my passport. “Can I travel with other documents as well?” I ask. Since Greece is in the Schengen Area, a driver’s license is sufficient, she explains. However, I will probably need to show a passport if asked in Greece. At security, again, there is no line. I had expected a busy Pentecost weekend. I move quickly through all the checks. The downside is that I now have to wait longer for my flight. I order a coffee and sit down with a view of the planes. The morning sun is just rising on the horizon. The boy next to me is traveling to Stockholm for a city trip with his mother. That’s the beauty of an airport—every traveler has their own destination and story. My flight departs from gate C13. As one of the first passengers, I board the Transavia plane. I will meet the tour guide and fellow travelers in Thessaloniki, though everyone on this tour must be on this flight. I try to guess, as passengers walk by, who might be part of my group. An impossible task. Just behind me, a couple sits down. I think they could be potential group members, but they already know many people around them. Surely, a subgroup like this wouldn’t be booked within the main tour? Such subgroups never benefit the cohesion of the travel group. It turns out they are a tour group from Oegstgeest. With no fewer than 35 participants, they are touring northern Greece. The lady sitting next to me explains this as the plane takes off; she is also part of the group. I have no idea yet how large my own tour group is. Almost three hours later, Thessaloniki Airport comes into view. A bus takes me to the arrivals hall. For the few planes landing here, it still takes a while for all the baggage to be unloaded. Luckily, I soon spot my travel bag on the carousel. I make my way toward the exit and again marvel at how well signposted Schiphol is. Here, they could learn a thing or two. Some A4 sheets marked “exit” with arrows help guide the way. Outside the arrivals hall, I meet Helen. She is the tour guide for today and tomorrow. SRC had sent me a message yesterday explaining that the original guide was sick. Another guide would take over, but she is still traveling with a different group. Helen, an English-speaking Greek guide, will take over until tomorrow. She escorts the group to the bus. I had no idea how many travelers would be participating. SRC only reports percentages on the website. Based on those, I calculated that only with 26 participants would whole numbers make sense. So I am surprised when only thirteen travelers arrive. The minimum number for a tour was supposed to be fifteen. But I’m fine with it—traveling with a smaller group is easier and faster. The driver loads the luggage into the bus. Helen explains that we are now going to our hotel near Thessaloniki. Tomorrow, we will visit the city. As we drive, I try to follow the route on the map. I don’t understand why I see a runway to the right of the road. That can’t be right… unless the hotel is not on the way to the city but away from it. This means that tomorrow we will drive past the airport again on our way to Thessaloniki. A short while later, I arrive at the hotel. It is located in a quiet town near the Thessaloniki Bay. The Greek heat immediately envelops me like a blanket.

Greece - The sunset at the bay of Thessaloniki

Wonderful, of course—just not with jeans. In my hotel room, I quickly change. The rest of the afternoon is free. With a fellow traveler, I walk to the beach. Children jump off the pier into the still-cold sea, clearly having fun. They pay us no attention. Across the bay, I can see Thessaloniki. Its size makes it clear this is Greece’s second city. This side of the bay is much calmer. A waiter invites us to his terrace with a few halting words of English. Why not? We take a table in the shade on the beach. A perfect spot to start the holiday with a beer. Back at the hotel, I meet the other travelers around the pool and bar. I grab a chair and join them. On a first day like this, names are exchanged, as well as hometowns and sometimes previous travel experiences. Many fellow travelers have traveled with SRC before. For me, this is my first time. In the evening, I return to the beach and settle on a terrace. As the sun sets, the sky turns a beautiful orange. Across the bay, thousands of lights in Thessaloniki begin to twinkle. A perfect ending to the first day of the trip.