Greece’s visitor numbers have been steadily increasing for years, with no signs of slowing down. In 2019, the country welcomed 34 million travelers, who spent roughly €18 billion. By 2024, arrivals topped 36 million, pushing revenues beyond €20 billion. The first data from 2025 indicate the same trend: growth, growth, and more growth.
This is not just a Greek story. Portugal and Spain are riding the same wave, as global wealth expands and more households join the so-called “traveling class.” Half of the world’s families now have the means to go abroad. Retirees in wealthy countries travel more than ever, while the new middle classes of Asia and Latin America are booking their European dream trips. Airlines are responding: direct flights from the US to Greece have increased, and Aegean Airlines is introducing new Asian routes, with India in the spotlight.
But the chorus of record-breaking arrivals no longer gets the applause it once did. Outside the circles of those who profit directly, people are starting to ask more complex questions.
Overtourism on the Aegean
On the one hand, tourism generates significant revenue. On the other hand, it is straining infrastructure and reshaping local life in ways that are not always welcome. Islanders complain about power cuts, traffic jams, and water shortages. Housing costs have soared, public services are stretched, and the state appears either unable or unwilling to regulate effectively. Where there is weakness in oversight, corruption often follows.
The traditional model of small family-run businesses has given way to large foreign-owned companies. The workforce is increasingly low-paid and often comprised of foreign workers. For locals, access to their own coastline is shrinking, except when they show up as cheap labor.
Greek poet Odysseas Elytis once wrote: “Some places are simply beautiful. Others are important because a civilization developed there. The Aegean Sea combines both.” For many Greeks, the summer is not a luxury but a part of national identity—one built on ferry rides, tents pitched on wild beaches, and a sense of belonging. When that “Greek summer” becomes an overpriced theme park for outsiders, resentment follows.
Debating the Future
Policy responses so far sound familiar: expand infrastructure, extend the tourist season, and shift pressure from crowded hot-spots to quieter ones. But these solutions risk being temporary bandages. Build a bigger airport, and more planes will come. Stretch the season, and developers will stretch their reach too, following visitors from Mykonos to Paros, and then from Paros to Amorgos.
The deeper question is rarely asked: What exactly do we want tourism to do for Greece? If the only answer is “bring income,” the risk is clear: monocultures collapse when the weather changes. A different vision might emphasize three goals:
- Reliable income that does not hollow out the economy.
- Open access to Greece’s coastline for Greek citizens.
- A sustainable approach that protects both landscapes and living communities.
Rethinking the Model
Some propose chasing fewer but higher-spending visitors. Others discuss fees or taxes to limit flows, as Bhutan has done and Venice is attempting to do. However, “VIP tourism” brings its own problems: yachts, private jets, and gated compounds do little to enhance local life.
Another idea is to curate the audience: encourage visitors who value culture, cuisine, and history over quick Instagram hits. Islands already attract different crowds—Sifnos is not Rhodes, Patmos is not Kos—but that balance is fragile. Public policy could strengthen it.
There are even proposals for subsidizing Greek access to expensive destinations, funded by entry fees. The logic is simple: a Greek presence enriches the cultural experience for everyone and ensures locals are not excluded from their own heritage. Similar schemes could target young travelers or use lotteries, much like US national parks.
A Stark Choice Ahead
Overtourism will force the issue sooner rather than later. Greece can continue down the current path—offering cheap, commodified destinations for the masses and fenced-off enclaves for the super-rich—or it can take the more challenging route of reinvention.
That means asking first principles: What is tourism for? Income, yes. But also dignity, access, and preservation. If Greece can balance those, then the “Greek summer” may remain what it has always been: not just a season of arrivals, but a living bond between place, people, and sea.
