Why your Greek vacation shouldn’t come with a side of bulk toilet paper
Stick to Costco for the Charmin and bad bakery, leave the travel to more capable cognoscenti
Congratulations! You’ve finally decided to visit Greece. You’ve seen the photos of Oia at sunset, you’ve dreamt of the turquoise waters of the Ionian, and you’ve decided it’s time to live your best Mamma Mia life. But then, you make a critical error. You head to the same place where you buy five-pound tubs of hummus and Kirkland-signature socks to book your “dream getaway.”
That’s right. You’re booking your Greek odyssey through Costco Travel.
Look, I get the appeal of the “Executive Member” cashback. We all love a deal. But when it comes to the cradle of Western Civilization, do you really want a vacation that has been curated with the same soul-crushing efficiency as a warehouse floor plan?
The “Greatest Hits” of Mediocrity
Costco Travel treats Greece like a fixed-price rotisserie chicken: it’s reliable, it’s salty, and it’s exactly the same for everyone. Their itineraries are a curated collection of every Greek cliché imaginable. You’ll be funneled into the same three hotels in Santorini that appear in every “Basic American in Europe” Pinterest board. You’ll likely be fed “traditional” dinners at restaurants that have menus with pictures of the food on them—a universal sign for “We hope you don’t notice this moussaka was frozen.”
Friends, I’ve had frozen moussaka and oh, no you don’t want that dish.
Costco assumes you are the “Typical American Traveler.” You know the one: someone who is terrified of a ferry that doesn’t have a VIP lounge, someone who thinks “authentic” means a gift shop that sells plastic Spartan helmets, and someone who won’t go anywhere that doesn’t have a Starbucks within a three-mile radius. It’s a scripted, sanitized experience designed to ensure you never actually encounter a Greek person who isn’t paid to smile at you.
The Substack Alternative: Why Expertise Matters
If you want to spend four figures to be treated like a unit of inventory, by all means, click “Add to Cart.” But if you actually want to see Greece—the Greece that exists outside of the cruise ship ports and the “all-inclusive” traps—you need a seasoned pro or two, not a sledgehammer.
This is where my Greek Column on Substack comes in. While the Costco algorithm is busy calculating how many generic “Sunset Cruises” it can fit into your schedule, I’m actually in the trenches or if not, my trusted colleagues are. My recommendations aren’t based on corporate kickbacks or bulk-buy discounts; they’re based on years of professional and personal experience.
I can tell you which hotels are the best in Athens because I’ve visited and vetted them, and which taverna in the Peloponnese makes the best moussaka because I’ve actually sat there with the owner’s cousin. I can tell you which island has zero crowds in July because I’ve lived it. Costco gives you the brand-name, “Kirkland Signature” version of Greece—safe, flavorless, and mass-produced. I give you the raw honey, the local wine, and the hidden coves that don’t fit into a corporate PDF.
Stop Being a Metric, Start Being a Traveler
A vacation to Greece should be an investment in your soul, not a line item on your credit card statement meant to earn you a 2% reward. Don’t let a warehouse club decide what your memories should look like.
If you want the “cliché and scripted” tour, I’m sure there’s a shuttle waiting for you at the Athens airport with fifty other people wearing “Greece 2024” t-shirts. But if you want a trip that feels like it was actually designed for a human being with taste, it’s time to stop shopping for travel in the same aisle as the 48-packs of AAA batteries.
Subscribe to the Greek Column. Because you deserve better than a bulk-packaged vacation. Don’t you?
