Last week, Greece was voted the most hospitable country in the world by readers of Germany’s Travelbook magazine, after more than 150,000 people cast their votes. (Greek Reporter, Sept 25, 2025)

It is easy to dismiss such rankings as travel-industry fluff, but this one touches something deeper. Hospitality in Greece is not a gimmick; it is a cultural instinct with ancient roots. The Greeks even have a word for it, filoxenia (φιλοξενία). Literally, it means “love for the stranger,” but in practice it means far more: generosity, friendship, and care toward anyone who crosses your threshold.

Nicole Lekanidi, the Greek National Tourism Organization’s representative in Germany, explained it beautifully when she said:

This idea, that hospitality flows not from hotels or tour packages but from ordinary people, is what sets Greece apart.

Everyday Filoxenia

The Greek Reporter article gives a telling example: in smaller villages, locals often bring gifts to foreigners living or vacationing there, such as a bottle of olive oil, a basket of figs, or a bag of tomatoes fresh from the garden. There is no calculation here and no expectation of payment. Just an instinct to say: “You are here. You are welcome. You are one of us.”

Filoxenia can appear in simpler forms too: a smile from the kiosk owner, unsolicited directions from a passerby, or a restaurant that slips a dessert onto your table “on the house.”

I have encountered it countless times. Back in the 1970s, a friend and I were driving a humble Citroën 2CV on the National Road from Athens to Karpenisi. Outside of Athens, smoke began to pour from the engine. We pulled over and, within seconds, flames were licking out from under the hood. It was the height of summer, scorching hot, and we had no fire extinguisher.

As we stood there in panic, a truck driver on the opposite side of the road slammed on his brakes. He jumped out, yanked a fire extinguisher from the side of his truck, and sprinted toward us. For a moment he paused, waiting for a break in traffic, and then simply hurled the extinguisher across the highway.

We caught it, managed to put out the fire, and removed the charred cardboard connector between the engine and the air filter that had ignited in the heat. Miraculously, the car sputtered back to life, and we were able to continue our journey.

When we tried to thank the man with money, he waved it away with a smile.“Filoxenia, my friend,” he said. “One day you will do the same for someone else.”

Ancient Roots

This is not just modern niceness. The idea goes back to Homer, where Zeus himself was called “Zeus Xenios”, protector of strangers. To mistreat a guest was to risk divine punishment, while to welcome one was to honor the gods. In a land that has always been a crossroads of traders, pilgrims, refugees, and conquerors, filoxenia was not just etiquette, it was survival.

Modern Tensions

Of course, not everything is perfect. Mass tourism can sometimes strain the authenticity of filoxenia. In some resort towns, hospitality has been repackaged as an upsell or Instagram performance. And when millions arrive every summer, locals understandably feel exhausted. Yet the Travelbook poll suggests that even under pressure, visitors still feel something genuine in Greece that is rare elsewhere.

More Than Hospitality

What makes filoxenia unique is that it is not merely service. It is moral. It says that the stranger has dignity. The stranger deserves warmth. The stranger could be your future friend. In an age when the other is too often framed as threat, this small country on the Mediterranean still insists that opening your door is a strength, not a weakness.

So yes, Greece now wears the crown of most hospitable country. But behind the headlines lies something worth protecting: a tradition that connects Homer to today’s tomato-bearing villagers, Zeus Xenios to the yiayia who insists you take one more koulouri before you leave.

Because filoxenia is not marketing. It is who we, Greeks, are.