So we finally set off. I say “we” because this was my work’s summer retreat and there were 45 of us in each of the three buses. The final destination was Kallithea, Halkidiki, but at that point, the beach hotels were still nine hours away.
It’s hard to go on a trip with that many people; there is always someone you have to wait for and someone you have to deal with. It usually takes five to six hours by car, but with a whole group of people it took a lot more because of the countless times we stopped.
The whims of others aside, the scenic road from Sofia to the border along the Strouma River is in good condition. First, it crosses Vitosha Mountain on the way out of Sofia, then passes by the highest mountain on the Balkan Peninsula – Rila Mountain – on the way to Blagoevrad and winds along the Pirin Mountains all the way down to the border with the scene being completed by the smaller mountains on the right. In addition to all this natural beauty, the road crosses the river many, many times. Though shallow-looking, one can hardly imagine how deep and creepy it is said to be in some places. It must be true since the rafters and kayakers take their boats out of the water at certain points, drive for a time and then get into the waters again. A wish for exciting diversions is becoming more and more popular for our geographic latitudes; Prime Minister Sergei Stanishev even tried it a few months ago.
The famous stop for food, or just to take a short break, is Kresna Gorge. Along with kebapche, you can also buy ice cream and delicious sheep’s milk and water buffalo milk yoghurt. Somehow, although it’s the place where everyone stops on the way south, it has preserved its magnificence. It takes about half an hour to pass through the gorge; the astonishing scene could compel you to stay longer. This part of the road is very narrow (only one line road in each direction), cutting through the over-hanging rocks like a natural tunnel. The road, the bus and the river – full of greenery and tranquillity!
It was a weird experience for me as we crossed the border. I remember when I was in Germany last year and had a trip to the Netherlands – I found out that I was in the country of the tulips only when my mobile phone notified me that it had switched services. It was different here; we had to wait in line on both the Bulgarian and the Greek sides of the border for passport control.
But this was soon over and the bus started its journey on Greek soil. It did not live up to my expectations – at least during the first 80km or so – the same bleak landscape and disorderliness, thorns and uncultivated land – apparently either the Bulgarian influence is still very strong or it is a general feature of the Balkans. Either way, it was not a pleasure for the eye. One thing that struck me was that we never passed through a village on our way. Villages were always off the main road, whereas, in Bulgaria, it is normal for a motorway to pass through a town’s centre.
I liked Thessaloniki, though. The first difference I noticed was the size of the buildings – not as high as those in Bulgaria, with green areas in between that allow one to breathe and not feel shut-in – it conveys a feeling of the Mediterranean spirit. Not only here, but in Kavala and Xanti (other big cities in northern Greece) as well, it seems as if everyone has a scooter for weaving through traffic.
“They are like cockroaches,” an angry bus driver told me.
There was only about an hour and a half left to Kallithea, Halkidiki. The good thing was that the road was a multi-lane highway, a real pleasure to drive on. The bad thing was that for the n-th consecutive time we had to wait for someone who was late for departure, but I was so used to it by that point that I hardly even noticed. When travelling with a large group, patience is a necessary virtue.
The road to Halkidiki, despite being a major highway, was lined with bushes with pink and white flowers all along along the road. Good luck finding those in Bulgaria. No apologies are appropriate here; I just believe that it is a matter of culture and a manner of thinking!
Although the Kassandra peninsula (one of the three fingers of the Halkidiki peninsula) is referred to as a peninsula, I view it rather as an island – a wide canal divides it from the continent and it is only connected by the road. The sun shines in the still waters, reflecting off ripples created by the passing sail boats. This half-natural, half-human phenomenon is really worth seeing.
And finally we reached the destination. The resort complex comprised five hotels from three to five stars and oodles of swimming pools. The most luxurious hotel was the Theophano Imperial Palace and, along with the Palini Beach and the Athos Palace, the two four-star hotels, here were also two smaller hotels – the Simantro and the Macedonian Sun.
The Palini and the Athos hotels were like the ones I remembered from Bulgaria’s socialist past – tall, rectangular white buildings soaring high over the whole place, while the Theophano was a small four-storey building set off by the verdant flowers and palm trees in the garden. A small copse of towering trees on entering the complex gave way to the path that wound on through a garden full of trees, flowering bushes and small garden flowers before reaching the beach and the sea. The gardeners took exquisite care of it, so that even the tiniest plant had its perfect place. During the day, the garden was a good place to get away from the burning sun. The air was fresh and crisp, not only because of the thick shade from the trees but also due to the numerous sprinklers throwing water all day long.
My idea is not to describe the hotel itself, its ankle deep carpets, king-sized beds and jacuzzis, or the service perhaps somewhat lacking for a five-star hotel, but rather to share with you the nice experience I had, to attract your attention to this peaceful, beautiful piece of Halkidiki.
It stands in sharp contrast to our overdeveloped beach resorts, where a small garden is a luxury, as Vangelios, a boy from Athens I met in one of the night bars near the hotel complex, complained. In Kallithea, the five hotels were thoughtfully nestled into the natural landscape, no hotel perching on another’s roof. I even wondered how it was possible that such a worldwide destination could not be overbuilt. And the answer turned out to be so simple – Halkidiki really stays close to nature, rather than depending on a misinterpreted idea of “tourism”.
