Unexpected Bourgeoisie

At this point in our 23-day trip to Greece, I had booked our first “in-town” stay—an apartment just outside the center of activity, about a 10-minute walk from the heart of town. I figured we’d be acclimated enough to step away from the comforts typically tailored for tourists (Greek or otherwise).

A note: our trip intentionally excludes the islands and places frequented by non-Greek tourists. Since we’re scouting for a potential home, we felt drawn to everyday Greek life. Even when we chose towns with some tourism, they catered primarily to Greek visitors. Nafplio, Kalamata, and Preveza all fit that bill.

Upon arriving in Preveza after a beautiful four-hour drive from Kalamata, we found our backstreet apartment and checked in. By now, we’d grown accustomed to Greece’s version of “crunk”—tiered apartment buildings, narrow roads, and laundry fluttering from balconies. It’s a style consistent across cities, and we’ve come to recognize it as a hallmark of local life.

We checked into a ground-floor unit in one of these typical buildings. The moment we opened the building’s front door, we were hit by an overwhelming smell—petrol, gas, some kind of fuel. It was so strong that we instinctively covered our mouths as we walked down the hall to our modest but sweet apartment.

Within an hour, we knew something wasn’t right. The smell was persistent and potent enough to make us worry about the risk of ignition—not to mention what we were inhaling. I messaged the host, who replied, “We don’t have gas in Greece, so nothing to worry about.” That didn’t ease our concern, so I contacted Airbnb support.

Airbnb’s safety team responded promptly: “Leave!”

They then sent emergency instructions and told us we could book a hotel at up to €325 per night. This was quite a jump from our original €100-a-night rental, but okay—message received. It was too late that night to find a hotel, so we reluctantly spent one night in the fuel-saturated unit. In the morning, we set out on a mission to find that €325 stay.

Rob’s keen eye for bourgeois accommodations led us to Meraviglia Slow Living in nearby Mitikas, a small hotel of private villas nestled on a quiet beach in a nearby hamlet. The moment we arrived, I was reminded of Bayville, a beach town on Long Island where I once lived—and loved. I immediately felt at home.

Meraviglia Slow Living was no ordinary boutique hotel. It was the vision of an architect who designed a seaside compound with organic gardens (which supplied the on-site restaurant) and private villas, each with its own invisible-edge pool overlooking the sea. The place truly lived up to its name. Meraviglia Slow Living’s also an engineering wonder: lights go on when you enter a room, the key card rests in a pocket and when removed (because your going out) turns off all the power; the 24’ x 14’wall of glass that faces the private pool and ocean’s curtains auto close when you tug them; etc. We melted into the pace of slow living and barely left for three days, venturing out only to stroll along endless, empty turquoise beaches or visit the family-run markets in town for supplies. The market owners welcomed us warmly, wrapping us in a sense of belonging and kindness.

We surprised ourselves. Setting out on this trip we thought we wanted urban access because it represented opportunities to work, and a little city life. The places we’d so far visited offered versions of this, each with a long beautiful coast line of beach at their side. But when we arrived in Mytikas, the quiet non touristy beach town outside of Preveza (a 10 min drive) we agreed that we’d found the first place in Greece we could imagine living.