Thessaloniki Novel Tour

Five years ago, author Victoria Hislop fell in love with the city of Thessaloniki. She's now set her latest novel there: and writing here exclusively, she reveals how the city inspired her

Featured November 11 Words by Victoria Hislop/Photos: Rama Knight
Thessaloniki Novel Tour

My first glimpse of Thessaloniki was on a damp November day about five years ago. I had been invited to talk at the university and had flown there for the night with a change of clothes in my hand luggage and a few notes. It had not even occurred to me to buy a guidebook.

As I was taken by taxi to the campus, I peered through a thick grey mist and saw very little apart from people scurrying along dark, tree-lined streets, men and women alike in black puffa jackets hunched against the rain. I distinctly remember thinking, "I'm glad I won't be here long."

The next morning, everything changed. The fog had lifted and Thessaloniki's magic revealed itself. From my hotel window, I found myself looking across a huge, glittering bay to Mount Olympus, Greece's highest mountain, and I began to be amazed by this city on the sea.

In the bright sunshine of that day (this is a city where the weather is almost as constant a topic of conversation as it is in the UK), I decided to take a walk.

It was right then that my love affair began - and the first seeds were sown for the idea of writing a novel about the city. Like most metropolises, Thessaloniki has sprawled in recent years but, unlike many, it has discernible boundaries: the sea on one side and a steep slope on another.

I knew I could wander without getting lost because there would always be a glimpse of a sparkling bay to orient me.

And what I saw captivated me: Thessaloniki seemed to have a little of every period and style. There were magnificent 3rd century remains, including a massive triumphal arch on which are carved the achievements of the Emperor Galerius and also a perfect rotunda, reminiscent of the Pantheon in Rome. Called the Church of Agios Georgios, it stands at the crossroads of what are now Egnatia and Dimitriou Gounari streets. I learned that it has had many different chapters in its history: originally it was a polytheistic temple, then a church, afterwards a mosque and it was then reconsecrated as a church in 1912.

There were plenty of quickly erected, 1970s, five- or six-storey concrete blocks which are ubiquitous in all Greek cities, but I also saw magnificent neo-classical mansions, with pillars and double stairways leading to grand front doors, and many art-deco buildings as well. In contrast, there was an atmospheric district full of Turkish-style houses and cobbled streets (known as the Upper Town), an area of old oil warehouses that had been converted into restaurants - Zythos (5 Katouni, Ladadika; tel: +30 231 054 0284) became one of my favourites - and dozens of bars. There was also a building which had been the old Ottoman baths and the atmospheric Modiano Market (32 Vasileos Irakleiou; tel: +30 231 023 7315), a huge, glass-topped construction built in 1922, where there are tavernas tucked between stalls laden with fresh produce. It is the noisiest, most aromatic place I have ever been and well worth a visit.

When I got home after that first trip, I read Mark Mazower's Salonica: City of Ghosts, which explains why Thessaloniki developed the way it has. I found the 20th-century events that shaped it particularly enthralling. And the kernel of an idea for a novel began to form in my mind.

In 1917, the 150,000-strong population was split between Greek Orthodox Christians, Jews and Muslims. During the Middle Ages, the latter formed the majority and you can see the legacy in the form of a minaret next to the Church of Agios Georgios and in the many Turkish-style buildings, including one in the centre (75 Apostolou Pavlou Street), which was the birthplace of Kemal Atat�rk, founder of the Turkish Republic.

For almost the whole of the 20th century, Thessaloniki was torn apart by a series of dramatic events that shaped the place and left much behind, forcing a large proportion of both the Muslim and Jewish populations into exile.

This history seemed very present on its streets - making it a perfect setting for my imaginary characters. The questions that I asked myself were: "What would it have been like to live through these times?" "How did people survive?" and "What does their history mean to people today?" In my many subsequent visits to Thessaloniki, these were the things that preoccupied me as I began to form the story for The Thread.

Visitors should begin with a trip the White Tower, the city's landmark monument. Climbing to the top, you get a good view of the city, so you can get your bearings. However, the best way to get oriented is to walk, and much of my research comprised simply wandering the streets. For me, there was no greater pleasure than to stroll alone, making frequent stops for coffee and one of the triangular, cream-filled pastries that the city is famous for - usually at Terkenlis (on theccorner of Tsimiski and Aristotelous Streets; terkenlis.gr), near Aristotelous Square. For lunch, I was drawn time and again to a taverna called Pinaka (Ouzo Ston Pinaka, 32 Balanou; tel: +30 (0)231 028 0076), which has a vaguely retro feel. Everything tasted as if it had been bought from the nearby market and put straight on my plate.

On my meanderings, I also noticed that there are a huge number of shops selling fabric, buttons and ribbons, and even shops that just sold sewing machines.

Thessaloniki has enough clothes shops to satisfy any shopaholic and one day I fell in love. With a dress - I might add. It was in the window and I couldn't resist. It was dark-blue satin with beading on the bodice and my excuse was that I needed something for a wedding. It seemed perfect but, alas, was much too big. However, a tailor appeared with her mouth full of pins and, in less than two minutes, had used them to fit the dress. Within 24 hours, it was ready. As beautiful and well-fitted as haute couture, but a mere �80. I treasure this dress, not just because it's the only tailored thing in my wardrobe, but because it gave me the inspiration for my new novel's main character, who is a seamstress.

I've read that Thessaloniki was the centre of a huge fabric trade and the making of army uniforms, so this was a tradition that went back many centuries, with thousands of women skilled in sewing and tailoring.

On my visits, I saw Thessaloniki in rain, snow and fog, storm and sunshine. Every kind of weather seems to suit it and the place constantly changes, with different moods and a variety of atmospheres. There are wonderful things to look at on rainy days: superb museums, such as the Museum of Byzantine Culture (2 Stratou Avenue; mbp.gr) and the Archaeological Museum (6 Manoli Andronikou Street; amth.gr).

Along the paved esplanade that runs for several kilometres round the massive bay, there are two particular sights. Halfway along there's a huge statue of Alexander the Great on a rearing horse. Impressive, powerful and solid, it's a glimpse of the ancient world. A little further along is its antithesis, by 20th-century sculptor George Zongolopoulos and perhaps the most magical sculpture I have ever seen: dozens of metal umbrella skeletons dance like kites, 12m up. Both sculptures seem equally emblematic of this enthralling city on the sea.

Now I realise how similar my initial response to Thessaloniki was with other first encounters. Quite often, people I have disliked on first meeting have turned into my best friends. It was just like this with Thessaloniki. In short, it has become one of my favourite cities in the world.

Victoria Hislop's novel The Thread is published by Headline in hardback at �18.99 and is out now