What Does Your Dream Place Actually Look Like?

A reality in pictures

When I was younger, I tended to idealize places. Countries, cities. I’d close my eyes and see a Paris full of glittering gold, chocolate croissants melting in the mouth, and handsome artists painting under the rain to lift their spirits. I’d see an Italy of glamorous cathedrals. A Germany of cleanliness and order. An India of endless, pristine beaches.

Tell me, my friends, when I say ‘Greece’, what do you see?

I bet it’s something like this:

Or this:

Both images are true, by the way. They’re not Photoshop or Midjourney. I’ve been to Santorini (the first photo), and yes, there are wonderful houses there, and taverns in blue and white. There are pink and red flowers, there’s the blinding blueness of the Aegean Sea.

There’s something else, too, though. There’s the impossible heat that the few trees are unable to disperse. There are countless, razor-sharp small stones on the beaches. There’s the dark sand which becomes unbearably hot in the sun, and there are the sunbeds which are so densely spaced that you can literally smell your neighbor's sun lotion (or the gaseous products of the sea delicacies they had for lunch).

Thessaloniki (the second photo)is the place I live in. This photo is real, too. The waterfront you see is an amazing place for evening and morning walks; and the White Tower is a stunning reminder of a glorious past, as well as the statue of Alexander the Great, located fifty meters south of the tower.

In Thessaloniki, there are charmingly white, yellow, and brownish blocks of flats, all the same size, all around the city; there are flowers of all colors on the balconies, and there’s a magnificent hill looking down at the city, holding it as a protective mother; yes, all this is there and I love it.

Do you know what else is there, too, though?

I’ll show you.

Please, don’t turn your eyes away. Keep on reading. Keep on looking.

In Thessaloniki, there are old, abandoned houses that are crumbling down and nobody cares about them.

Like this one:

Or this one:

In Thessaloniki, there are lonely, sick, unhappy, and homeless people.

This old lady, for example, could hardly walk. She was carrying a bag of groceries and was advancing down the street on her cane one baby step at a time. I was far and I couldn’t catch her face but faces like hers are not the most cheerful sight anyway.

This guy (he’s one of the hundreds of homeless people in the city) spends his nights like this:

People in Thessaloniki are mostly messy. Shop interiors like this one are not unlikely to be seen:

This is a parking place where you’re supposed to be able to fit your car. Please, don’t buy something bigger than a Mini Cooper!

Thessaloniki is a beautiful city, but it definitely has a trash issue. People love their trash and love to see it everywhere:

For example, here:

Or here:

Or here:

Or here:

And mostly, around the bins:

The streets in Thessaloniki are very narrow, and this is charming, but all the charm is suddenly gone when you enter a street like this:

In Thessaloniki, the plumbing system is often broken and we see water everywhere (the sea is not enough for the locals):

Pave stones are often broken, too. Who cares? Let the trees grow their roots as much as they like. We’re a free country!

And in Thessaloniki, trees are often cut down or fall by themselves and nobody cares to take out the roots, and plant a new tree:

So, my friends, this is the city I live in. And before you jump out of your chair in terror, let me assure you that I love this city.

I love it tremendously.

But not because of the shining White Tower, the formidable statue of Alexander the Great, the impressive view from the hill, or the soothing expanse of the blue sea.

No.

I love it because of the helpless old people, the homeless ones, the hungry ones. I love it because of its disorganization, negligence, dirt, and congestion.

Because cities reflect our own personalities and this is what we are, too. We, human beings, are full of splendor and repulsiveness. Full of cleanliness and dirt. Full of happiness and suffering. Full of eternity and mortality.

And if we do not love our Hyde’s side, then how can we ever beat it down and reach our Jekyll's side?

I’m sure that the places you live in are beautiful. And I’m sure you love them for that beauty, but much more so for the hidden unattractiveness.

So I challenge you today, all of you, to get your phone, walk around your city, or your village, and show me that unattractiveness. Make an article full of pictures that will make me love your place.

Love it tremendously.

If you liked this story, you might enjoy any of my society and philosophy pieces here:

Thank you!