As you walk on the slabs and you see the fatso white giant, the White Tower, you are thinking: there is the obsession of the city - or could it be a huge, round stove, with white enamel, that warms over and burns its last memories.

A spring travelogue to the dense woods of Pieria over the villages of Rizomata and Daskio. This is where the sense of plain is lost, since the plethora of green routes literally beguiles the visitor.

We follow the dirt road connecting Chrysopigi with the opposite beach, Apokofto. On the opposite end of the beach, a path that climbs the rocks towards Faros starts. We first meet the chapel of Saint Haralambos and just below t

Port and Ladadika: the smell of spices, cooked pork meats, olive oil and paper, fills the air and blends with the heavy scent of the ship holds, the ships that plough the blue line of the horizons, always returning to the cove of Thessal

From Artemonas, we take the asphalted road to Apollonia and, at the height of Agios Loukas, we turn to the walkway that crosses the village. After the path of Agios Loukas, the greater part of which is paved with and bounded by ston