Travel unlocks the world; when you travel, the mind opens like a rose unfurling its petals. I have read such words in magazines and articles, and I completely agree with them. I believe—without being absolute—that there are two great categories of cities: those that impose themselves upon you, and those that reveal themselves to you.
New York, London, Paris, Venice, Moscow, Rome, Vienna, Saint Petersburg—these are cities that captivate you, that transport you through time in a way that is utterly unique. You feel small as you wander among grand and imposing buildings, admiring their architecture that takes your breath away. I adore the cities where you walk with your head lifted high, turning left and right to marvel at the masterpieces of art and architecture that surround you.
Middle Ages, Renaissance, Baroque, Enlightenment, modern art—all beside you, and then, gradually, all within you. A new sense of aesthetics, a new perspective on things begins to shape you—if only you are willing to see truth through your own eyes, and not those of others. Greece is not the center of the world; it is part of the world.
Lisbon, Barcelona, Opatija, Stockholm, Verona, Ljubljana, Lucerne, Toledo, Bruges, Florence—these are cities that reveal themselves to you slowly, day after day, whispering in your ear: “Stay another day. I have more to give you. Don’t leave just yet.” Such cities fascinate and excite me. You feel their pulse, their rhythm, and their energy coursing through your body, carrying their own sound and breath. These are cities with identity, personality, reputation.
In every corner, something stirs your senses—musicians, dancers, jugglers, painters—and countless festivals bring even the smallest streets to life. Beautiful gardens, majestic palaces, historic cafés invite you not only to rest but to taste a lingering echo of old glamour and charm. Their people are warm and willing to help, to guide, to share. People everywhere are, in truth, the same; they carry the same smile, the same pain, in their eyes. But you might ask me: is Zurich the same as Madrid? Of course not. Even the climate alone shapes the psychology of its people. But that is not my point.
And then, among all these, there is Amsterdam—a city without masks, the city of Van Gogh and Rembrandt. Berlin, where the legacy of Ancient Greece and Egypt meets the great concerts of the modern world. In Berlin, you need no money to spend a beautiful afternoon; everything is offered freely, and at the highest level—music, dance, the cuisines of the world—spilling out onto streets and squares, all at your feet. Budapest, where the Hungarians say: “Whoever is bored of Budapest has grown bored of themselves.” Washington, with its magical Georgetown—a capital as unique as its name! Dubrovnik, where you become the protagonist of your own medieval film. Copenhagen, city of design and best quality of life—where culture is not confined to museums, but woven into daily existence.
Milan, with its incomparable Duomo and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, with its elegant shops and cafés where even Verdi once sipped his coffee (read his biography—it overwhelms). Istanbul, where Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque have dominated the horizon for centuries, facing each other—two great religions in silent dialogue. Is it mere coincidence that they stand this way? A city perched between two continents, infused with the scents of the East!
The list is long, and grows richer each year. But whatever the case, the essential truth remains: travel is the most important source of knowledge—if only we travel as travelers and not as tourists. I suppose you know the difference! So walk boldly with open stride, and you will behold what lies before you.
P.S. Traveling revealed the depth of my cultural ignorance.
Antonis Giaroutzidis, 1/10/22