Shifting Gears: Going Rogue

After our unusual experience in Preveza—where our Airbnb was overwhelmed by the smell of fuel—and having now visited several cities and towns, we’ve become more attuned to the differences between American and Greek amenities.
Acknowledging that we are Americans and used to a certain level of comfort, we decided to cancel our remaining Airbnbs and embrace a slower, more spontaneous pace. We’ve turned our focus inland, exploring the Epirus region on our way to our next major destination, Volos. Along the way, we’re stopping in Ioannina and Meteora—crossing through the dramatic mountain ranges that divide this country so distinctly.
We’re currently in Ioannina, a lakeside city that offered a softer landing for our American sensibilities through a thoughtfully designed Byzantine-style hotel. The change in geography—from sea level to 5,500 feet—came with a shift in climate and vegetation. The city’s architecture reflects its layered history, with strong Byzantine and Ottoman influences still present in its buildings and atmosphere.(Photo/map: our pathway from Preveza across the inland landmass and where we’re headed next.)
Ioannina also feels vibrant and cosmopolitan, with a distinctly local energy. It’s not built for tourists; people live, work, and thrive here. There’s a visible youth culture—tattoo shops, goth fashion, people wearing athletic clothing, and stylish bars where techno pulses from good sound systems and flirtation fills the air. The street life reminds me of Brooklyn—alive, expressive, and familiar in a way that feels translatable. This is also the first city where we’ve noticed a visible Muslim presence, which aligns with its rich and complex past.
In the U.S., many of us are accustomed to comforts we don’t even think to call luxuries: high-end appliances, plush rugs, sharp cutlery, fine linens. These are not universal standards; they’re the result of a certain kind of wealth and consumer culture. It’s all relative, of course—what feels essential often depends on what one is used to. Greece is not a wealthy country in the same way the U.S. is, though signs of wealth appear throughout—often standing in sharp contrast to older, more modest Greek infrastructure.
In conversations with Greek friends we made in Preveza, we learned that the wealth disparity we’ve been noticing is something locals are also grappling with. It’s similar to what many of us are experiencing in the U.S.—a widening economic divide. The sentiment we’ve felt in the US in both Truth or Consequences and for myself when I lived in New York City, “ You don't come in saying I'm gonna change this culture you come in saying I'm going to adapt to this culture,” fits equally here.
In Athens, we saw graffiti stenciled on buildings used for Airbnbs—messages aimed at visitors, highlighting how short-term rentals have contributed to rising rents for locals. Greeks have even asked us, should we consider buying a home here, not to overpay, as foreign investment is already pushing up real estate prices. The disparity is visible everywhere: newly built modern estates sitting beside older homes in disrepair, remnants of a very different economic time.
