The Grecian seaport town of Nafplio was my final destination on a trip that was, quite simply, transformative.

To encapsulate my visit in just several paragraphs would be an injustice to its true value. I could write pages about the depth to which I learned about both myself and the world around me, particularly such locations as Athens, Delphi, and the featured town of Nafplio. The trip was a sensory overload for an avid writer and even more avid life-ponderer. In this case, I intend to paint the picture more vividly with the help of some pictures I took during my time abroad.

I will just try and unpack my fast-discovered love for Nafplio, a town with a certain quiet charm that drew me in without heavy-handed tourism tactics and showy displays of opulence. The people of Greece have been struggling with an economic collapse that, upon visiting, we would’ve known nothing about had it not been for American news coverage back home.

There is a gentleness to Nafplio that comes, perhaps, with its nearness to the beach and its seemingly untouched beauty. The people are stoic and warm in a way that makes the whole economic situation seem distant at first, then frighteningly close when you remember what these men and women are enduring financially.

Tourism is the unlikely hero for a country like Greece, and in the case of Nafplio, it remains peacefully quiet despite its growing popularity with visitors. The town is quite close to the archaeological site of Mycenae, where we toured the magnificent tomb and palace of King Agamemnon, with structures dating back 3,300 years.

We spent four days in Nafplio. At around five o’clock each afternoon, we would walk the vacant, sun-drenched streets to a beach club only several minutes away. This was why the town felt so silent: everyone was at the beach. It was the universal refuge from the summer heat wave.

The leaders of my travel group managed to smuggle us in as guests, and we sipped fresh fruit smoothies at a bar overlooking the sea and the varied array of beach-goers with their Mediterranean tans.

On the final day, we awoke early to climb the 980 steps that would lead us to the enormous Palamidi fortress, built high atop a mountain overlooking Nafplio. Constructed by the Venetians during their second occupation of the area from 1686 to 1715, the fortress was intended to provide an expansive view of the Argolic Gulf to allow soldiers to spot intruders from a distance.

I am not exaggerating when I say this was one of the most breathtaking vistas I have ever had the pleasure of viewing.

To put it simply, Nafplio is the kind of place you’ll want to visit if you are interested in discovering both history and serenity.

There is a soft friendliness that will instantly put you at ease. You will be fed heartily by kind, authentic people who take pride in what they do in their closet-sized restaurants with tables spilling out into the narrow streets. We spent our final meal in Nafplio at a family owned restaurant where, at the table beside us, we met a family visiting from Austria. We exchanged several words about our trip, how my group was comprised of student travelers with National Geographic, and I was struck yet again by how stunningly, achingly wonderful it is to travel. Here I was, eating my seventh piece of bread with tzatziki sauce at nearly 11pm in the middle of an alleyway in Greece, talking to a man who could barely speak English but spoke the universal language of kindness.

We strolled through the town square after dinner, where children were kicking balls around at the corner of midnight. We ate gelato and reminisced among the liveliness of a town not yet ready to say goodnight. As the minutes drew closer to dawn, more locals were drawn from their homes and out into the warm summer night, smiling and laughing.

There is a genuine happiness in Nafplio that I could not put my finger on. The Greek were some of the kindest people I have ever met in my life, and with so little, it makes you wonder whether it is true that those who have less might in fact have more.

I went to bed with a warmth all throughout me, a feeling of change, of learning, of growth.

Transformative, indeed.