In March 2018, I celebrated my birthday in a way I’ll never forget. That year, we found ourselves in a place that wasn’t part of our original plan—Thessaloniki, Greece. It was our first time in Greece, and we had been thinking about going to Athens, the country’s capital and the more popular choice for first-time visitors. But as we were finalizing plans, we realized Thessaloniki was closer to where we were coming from, and without much hesitation, we decided to give it a chance.
We didn’t know it then, but that decision would lead to one of the most special trips we’ve ever taken.
We flew in on a cool spring day. March in Thessaloniki isn’t cold like the deep winter months, but it still carries a crispness in the air. As we stepped off the plane, the breeze was soft but brisk, and the sky was slightly overcast, as if the city was shyly welcoming us. It felt fresh and new—exactly how I like birthdays to feel. There’s something magical about being in a new place when you’re turning a year older. You’re reminded that there’s still so much of the world left to see.
We checked into a small boutique hotel near the city center. It was quaint, stylish, and perfectly located. Our room had tall windows that let in the soft March light, and you could hear the hum of life from the streets below. The staff greeted us warmly, and though we were strangers to the city, we instantly felt at ease.
After dropping off our bags and freshening up, we headed out to start exploring. Our first destination was the famous Nea Paralia promenade. The hotel wasn’t too far from it, so we decided to walk. As we made our way there, the streets unfolded gently in front of us—colorful shops, locals sipping coffee outside cafés despite the chill, and the occasional cat watching the world go by from a doorstep.
And then we reached the promenade. It was long. Longer than I expected. It felt like it went on forever, stretching beautifully along the Thermaic Gulf. The sea was calm, and the breeze carried the scent of salt and spring flowers. It wasn’t crowded, just a few couples walking, some friends chatting on benches, and people jogging in their own rhythm. We walked slowly, hand in hand, no rush, no real plan—just soaking it all in.
One of the first landmarks we saw along the promenade was the White Tower of Thessaloniki, standing tall and quiet like a watchful guardian. This 15th-century structure has become the symbol of the city, and it’s easy to see why. We didn’t climb up that day—we were just happy seeing it up close—but even from the ground, it felt powerful, almost mysterious, like it held stories it was waiting to tell.
Not far from the tower, we stumbled upon Alexander the Great’s statue, majestic and proud on his horse, looking out to the sea. The combination of history and sea breeze made the moment feel cinematic. We stopped to take photos and just stood there for a while, appreciating how surreal it was to be spending my birthday in Greece, looking at monuments I had only ever seen in books or online.
We kept walking, passing by public art installations, like the Umbrellas by George Zongolopoulos. These delicate-looking metal umbrellas stood tall and looked especially beautiful against the gray sky. There was something whimsical about them. I loved how this part of Thessaloniki blended art with everyday life.
Later, we wandered further into the city, weaving through quiet alleys and lively streets. We passed Aristotelous Square, the heart of Thessaloniki, with its grand buildings and open space leading down to the sea. The square had a peaceful elegance, and even though the clouds hung low that day, there was a certain glow in the air. We grabbed some drinks and sat on a bench, people-watching and letting the day unfold naturally.
Close to our hotel was a street market that instantly felt familiar. It reminded me so much of the Philippines, especially Divisoria in Manila. It was lively, loud in the best way, and packed with colors, smells, and textures. There were stalls selling fruits and vegetables, cheap clothes, kitchenware, and everything in between. The chaos of it made me smile—it was like getting a small piece of home while being thousands of miles away.
We didn’t buy much, just some fresh fruit and a few small souvenirs, but we spent a good amount of time there, just moving from stall to stall. It made me think of my family, and how they would’ve loved the energy of the place. There’s a certain beauty in markets—how they bring people together in such a real, unfiltered way.
Later in the afternoon, we decided to visit one of the largest malls in the city—Mediterranean Cosmos. We weren’t planning to shop; we just wanted to see what it was like. The mall was modern, bright, and quite large. It had the usual international stores and plenty of cafés and food options. We walked through the floors, window-shopped, and grabbed something sweet from a bakery. It was a calm way to wind down from all the walking.
My birthday itself was the next day, and my husband, ever thoughtful and quietly romantic, had put together a gentle plan for us. It wasn’t packed with activities, but filled with the kinds of moments I love—slow mornings, good drinks, beautiful sights, and his company.
We started the day with breakfast at the hotel. There were fresh bread, eggs, olives, cheeses, and little sweet pastries. I sipped warm tea as he smiled across the table and wished me happy birthday. No gifts, no big party, but everything I needed was right there.
We took the bus to visit the Rotunda, one of the oldest monuments in the city. Originally built in the 4th century as a mausoleum for Emperor Galerius, it had served as a church and a mosque over time. Inside, the space was open and full of history. I stood there in silence, thinking about how long it had stood, how many lives had passed through it. The stillness of the place gave me goosebumps.
From there, we walked to see the Arch of Galerius nearby, another important landmark. The carvings on the arch told stories from the past, and I marveled at how well they had survived all these centuries. These monuments weren’t just stone—they were memories carved into the city itself.
That afternoon, we explored Ano Poli, the Upper Town, with its cobblestone streets and traditional houses. It was a bit of a climb, but my husband led the way like always. The view from the top was incredible. You could see the whole city below, the sea stretching out beyond it. We sat on a stone wall for a while, watching the clouds roll over the horizon, feeling the wind on our faces.
As the sun began to set, we returned to the city center and found a cozy taverna tucked away in a quiet street. The lights inside were soft and golden, and the place smelled like home cooking. We ordered a small feast—souvlaki, moussaka, grilled vegetables, and warm pita bread with dips. Everything tasted fresh and comforting. We toasted with glasses of local wine, and I made a silent wish, though truthfully, I already had everything I needed.
That night, walking back to our hotel under a gentle drizzle, I thought about how different this birthday had been. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was full of warmth, beauty, and love. That’s what I’ll always remember—how Thessaloniki gave us its charm without trying too hard.
Our trip lasted three days, but it felt much longer in the best way. We covered history, culture, food, laughter, and quiet moments. We used trains, buses, and our own two feet to move around, and every part of the journey felt natural and easy. My husband was, as always, the best guide I could ever ask for. His calm nature and good sense of direction kept us grounded, even when I got distracted taking a hundred photos of doorways and street art.
When we finally packed up to leave, I looked out our hotel window one last time and took a deep breath. Thessaloniki had given me one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had—not because of the place alone, but because of the feeling it gave me. A mix of discovery and home. Of something new that still managed to feel familiar.
Years later, when I think of March 2018, I don’t just remember turning a year older. I remember the smell of sea air on the promenade, the sound of market vendors calling out, the warmth of my husband’s hand in mine, and the peaceful joy of being somewhere unexpected and finding that it was exactly where we were meant to be.
