My fifty-five-night Grecian adventure began in Athens, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city at a boutique spot called 507 Athens. It wasn’t right in the heart of the tourist hustle, but that was part of its charm. Each morning, I set out on a brisk, direct walk to meet fellow travelers, passing cafes just beginning to stir and storefronts shaking off sleep. Even in the late hours, the neighborhood felt safe. I was comfortable enough to walk alone without hesitation.
The staff at 507 welcomed me like an old friend. Every time I stepped through the door, someone behind the desk greeted me with a warm smile, their friendliness as consistent as the hum of traffic outside.
And the shower, hot, steady, perfect. It felt like a small luxury after a day of flights and cobblestone streets. It was the kind of detail that doesn’t make the brochure but defines the start of a great trip.