A great way to get to know Thessaloniki is do nothing to explore her, but instead just exist in the moment. Just relax. The word halara (take it easy), is so embedded in the city’s laid-back mentality, that its use is now all but frowned upon by the locals. However, those superficial platitudes that modern Thessalonians avoid like the plague when describing their city, are in fact, very real qualities any metropolis would kill to have. Apart from its given unquestionably relaxed mentality, the city has, at times being been branded as erotic, lazy, magical or short-changed (in comparison to with the public funding and opportunities that are, more or less, reserved for the capital and the general Athens metropolitan area). There is a core of truth inside each and every one of those tired clichés. Even if you don’t ever publicly utter the words, it does not hurt to take them into consideration.

Did I mention the word magical? I am not very comfortable with the unproven, but I could swear that this place is a live, sentient being. She speaks to you. One of our most beloved Greek songs of the last 30 years (and one of myriads that salute the city’s name) is titled “Looking for you in Thessaloniki” (S’anazito sti Saloniki). The song Ladadika includes the cryptic phrase “This is what I give / How much do you want? / They sell what you want in Ladadika.” The historical downtown quarter of Ladadika is a metaphor for the entire city. Be prepared to pay, not always in money. You also need to throw in some soul currency for the exchange to be complete.

By all means, take a risk if you feel like it, but know that you are doing so at your own peril. I remember the night our Canadian friends, a delightful, cosmopolitan couple, dismissed our recommendation for dinner exactly 20 feet from their hotel entrance, as “too touristy.” Instead, armed with the latest trendy city guide they took us to a distant neighborhood, to savor the legendary Pontic cuisine, the culinary heritage of the diaspora of the Pontic (Black Sea) Greeks.

The four of us ended up gazing at our plates of cold mushy pasta, cold cream, and cold ham, all rolled up and served in one amorphous dish. Back at the hotel, close to midnight – our exhausted friends now asleep in their room – we decided to honor the original dinner reservation – albeit with two guests short and a three-hour delay. The manager did not flinch. Out of curiosity, he wanted to know where we had been. “Pontic? I am Pontic,” he laughed loudly, “so is half the city! If they wanted Pontic culture, they could have stayed at their hotel; the manager is Pontic, the staff is Pontic, even their breakfast is Pontic. Trust me, I know; the hotel belongs to my family.”

See my point? Don’t feel guilty if you don’t go all out actively uncovering Thessaloniki’s secrets. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed by the historical, informational and sensory overload. Breathe deeply. Stay put. Look around. Have a bite. Walk two blocks. Chat with a complete stranger. Follow your group’s scheduled itinerary or just stand on your balcony, linger on a street corner. Try to feel the Thermaic Gulf breeze, or the frosty Vardaris wind in your face. Sip your coffee and listen. This city speaks. Some of the things she will say, or show to you, will remain in your memory for a long, long time. Some of them will perplex you and take you out of your comfort zone.

But the city does speak.

And her first words will always be “This is what I give / How much do you want? I sell what you want to buy.”