In the most beautiful country in the world

Thanks to the cool northerly winds that swept through Greece this summer, we did not experience the massive heat waves that crippled other parts of Europe – at least not yet. Foreign tourists who chose Greece for the holidays this year were lucky – the farther away they were coming from, the more pleasant the surprise of their Greek summer: with it thousands of islands and a massive coastline, with an impressive and varied natural landscape alternating from mountains and gorges to one of the best seas in the Mediterranean; its ancient monuments and other relics of a glorious civilization stretching back millennia; its long sunny days and distinctive culinary tradition. Perhaps they got some sense of the problems besetting this country, like water scarcity, rampant uncontrolled construction, poor waste management and staff that work 12 hours a day when being declared for four at our restaurants, bars and cafes. They are unlikely, however, to have gotten a taste of Greek bureaucracy, the shadow economy, the shortcomings of the public health system and the absence of an environmentally friendly mindset and long-term planning to ensure the sustainability of the country's tourism destinations. We Greeks have been fortunate, too – at least most or many of us – because while we have done and continue to do everything possible to destroy this country, we haven't done it entirely yet. The more popular islands may be stuffed with monstrous villas and swimming pools carved into hillsides; helicopters may even land on beaches; construction may proceed unchecked everywhere; and islands may hide their garbage in illegal dumps that occasionally go up in flames. Yet it is still possible to come across a forgotten beach and enjoy a magnificent sunset for free beneath a tamarisk tree. Ferry tickets may be too expensive for many Greeks, infrastructure problematic and reservations increasingly necessary at the growing number of gourmet restaurants. But anyone who manages to spend a few days on an island returns richer in images, sensory experiences and moments of happiness. Those who are not so lucky are the thousands of people who cannot afford to go on any type of holiday at all and don't even have the luxury of complaining about over-tourism in the Cyclades, because they have never had – and never will have – the experience of being unable to find a patch of sand to spread out their towel or having to jostle with the crowds as they stroll up a cobblestone path. Those who are far from lucky are the seasonal workers who sleep in rooms partitioned with drywall and try to earn an entire year's income during a 60-day season, with no days off and no fixed working hours, followed by just three months of unemployment benefits. They are at the very bottom of the ladder: minimum-wage seasonal workers, unskilled and without solid work experience, the waiters of Europe. They are the ones who never get a tan even though they don't wear sunscreen, and who never count how many ice creams they have eaten over the summer.