Reid & Robie

Individuals that arrive at your doorstep as strangers leave as friends.

– Greek saying

The Trojan War wasn’t fought over Helen. It launched when Paris violated the terms of Greek hospitality, and in defiling the code of generosity and reciprocity, he committed the only unpardonable sin.

To the ancient Greeks, welcoming a guest was a virtue and an honor. Hospitality brought people together, forged alliances and was seen as both a cultural imperative and sacred obligation. Kindness toward strangers was required by the gods, and Zeus, the protector of travelers, often disguised himself in human form and dropped in on unsuspecting subjects to make sure they were welcoming and offered to put him up for the night.

Visitors were given the best seats at the table, the largest plates and the fullest glasses of wine, and when they left, they were offered gifts of friendship. While the host shared the best that he had, his guest entertained him with news and stories, respected the generosity and dared not impose.

Hospitality is key to Homer’s epics where a good host was revered and ignoring the rules of reciprocity often proved deadly. When Achilles welcomes Priam to his tent, he offers the aged king food, drink and time to grieve his son’s death. In doing so, Achilles restores his character after the bloody spectacle of parading Hector’s corpse around the walls of Troy. But when Penelope’s suitors feast and overstay their welcome, they violate their host’s hospitality and are slain by the returning Odysseus. 

To modern Greeks these tales aren’t just stories, they’re principles to live by, ingrained in their DNA and expressions of philoxenia, a word they use to describe the art of love and friendship toward strangers. While all Greeks measure their honor by how well they treat guests, among the towns and villages of this sun-dappled country, the welcoming nature of Ikarians is considered especially legendary.

When the ferry docked in Agios Kirykos, Robie and I disembarked in a strange land a few minutes before midnight. And with our landlord out of town, we worried about finding transportation to Therma. But waiting at the pier was our landlord’s mother ready to drive us and all our luggage to the apartment. And being late, she brought fresh flowers, a bottle of wine and treats in case we needed a midnight snack. Seeing us drenched the next day from a hot trek to town for groceries, she bought us a cold beer and offered us the use of her car.

During our ten weeks in Liverpool, the 2-bedroom apartment came with only two sets of sheets, so when we wanted fresh ones, we had to remove them from the other bed. Not on Ikaria. Every five days we found a bag filled with fresh linens and towels hanging on our front door. Inside were other surprises our attentive hosts thought we might need like new batteries for the remote control, a power strip for an electrical outlet or a second comforter to get us through the cold night.

When we told our landlord the hot water heater was leaking, he had it replaced the following day. When the water main exploded in Therma and the town went dry, our host telephoned the mayor to speed up repairs and had someone bring us a case of bottled water.

And it wasn’t just the people we were paying to stay in Ikaria that were warm and welcoming. Everyone on the island greeted us with a friendly kalimera – good morning in Greek. Cafés gave us free snacks, and dinner at a restaurant always ended with complimentary desserts.

The constant generosity amazed us. When Robie and I tucked into a restaurant seeking shelter from the rain, every order of coffee, water or wine came with a small plate of cheese. With no letup outside, we were happy to remain inside the café where it was warm and dry. And by the third refill, the chef himself brought out a decadent dessert – all in the name of hospitality.

After leaving Ikaria, Robie and I continued to be overwhelmed by the Greeks. Spotting us on the sidewalk in Patras, our new host insisted on escorting us to his favorite patisserie and buying us breakfast. When I asked a market vendor for a single orange, she not only demanded I take it at no charge but handed Robie two small ones so he wouldn’t feel left out. And when Robie bought a small trinket, the store owner added a second so I had something nice too.

Such generosity only happens in Greece – where hospitality is demanded by the gods.