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Hello in Greek is γεια σου — yassou — to one person you know, and γεια σας — yassas — to everyone else. Every guidebook prints both words. Almost none of them mention that picking the wrong one is not a grammatical error but a social one.
Say yassou to a seventy-year-old shopkeeper and you have addressed him in the familiar singular — the form you'd use with a child, or a close friend of thirty years. He will not correct you. He will simply register that you don't know. Say yassas to someone your own age over a beer and you sound like a form letter.
And then there is the harder question, the one no guidebook answers honestly: at what hour does kalimera become kalispera? Every site online gives a confident number. They give different numbers. We asked our five Greeks, who live in five different parts of the country, and they gave five different answers — which is itself the real answer.
Yassou vs Yassas: The Mistake That's Actually Rude
Greek, like French and German, splits the second person into a familiar singular and a polite plural. English lost this distinction centuries ago, which is why English speakers walk straight into it.
Γεια σου (yassou) — singular and familiar. One person, whom you know, or who is roughly your age, or who is a child.
Γεια σας (yassas) — plural or polite. A group. A stranger. Anyone older than you. Anyone in a professional or service role — the shopkeeper, the waiter, the hotel receptionist, the taxi driver, the ticket clerk.
What they literally mean. Γεια (ya) is health. Γεια σου is health to you; γεια σας is health to you all. Neither is a word for hello in the way English means it — both are a wish for the other person's wellbeing, which is also why the same word works on the way out.
The rule that actually works: if you are not certain, use yassas. Over-formality in Greece registers as respect and costs you nothing. Under-formality registers as presumption. There is no situation in which a visitor is penalised for yassas, and several in which yassou lands badly.
Saying them out loud. Both are stressed on the first syllable: YA-soo and YA-sas. The γ is softer than an English g, closer to the y in yes, which is why the romanisation starts with a y at all. Land the stress on YA and the rest of it passes without comment.
The one thing that softens it: Greeks will often invite you into the informal — a wave of the hand, a "μπορείς να μου μιλάς στον ενικό" (you can speak to me casually). When that invitation comes, take it. Until it does, yassas.
And the same split runs through everything else. It isn't only the greeting:
When Does Kalimera Become Kalispera? We Asked Five Greeks
Search this question and you will be told, with total confidence: noon. Or 1pm. Or 2pm. Or "around 5 or 6pm." Or "sunrise to noon." Every source is certain, and they contradict each other, and almost all of them close with the same shrug — it varies by region.
None of them can show you the variation. We can. Our five contributors live and work in five different parts of Greece. We asked each of them a single question: what time do you personally switch?
So the honest answer is a range, not an hour. 12:00 to 15:00, drifting later in summer, earlier in winter. What this means for a visitor is simpler than it looks: there is a grey zone in the early afternoon in which no Greek will think twice about either word. Say kalimera at 2pm and nobody blinks. Say kalispera at 12:30 and nobody blinks.
The mistake that is noticed is the one at the far end: kalimera at nine in the evening. Walk into a restaurant at dinner and wish the waiter good morning, and he will smile — the specific smile reserved for a tourist who has learned one Greek word and deployed it bravely.
Every Greek Greeting, and Exactly When to Use It
The two traps, restated because they're the ones people actually fall into:
- Kalinihta is a goodbye, not a hello. Walk into a taverna at 10pm and say it, and you have told the waiter goodnight on arrival.
- Kalimera at dinner. The single most common visitor error, and the one Greeks find most endearing — which is another way of saying they notice it every time.
Yassas or kalimera? Both work on the way in. Before about one o'clock kalimera is the warmer of the two — it is what Greeks actually say to each other in the morning, and it sounds less like a phrasebook. Yassas is never wrong at any hour, which is why it stays the default when you are not sure.
You will say kalimera most often across a bakery counter, because that is where most Greeks eat the first thing of the day. Our guide to the Greek breakfast explains what to order once you have said it.
And the short one: γεια on its own. Just ya, with no σου or σας attached. This is the Greek hi — what you hear between friends, called across a street, used for arriving and leaving alike. It is genuinely casual, which means it belongs with people your own age and not at a shop counter, where yassas is still the word.
Goodbye is the same word. Γεια σας on the way out, exactly as on the way in. Αντίο (a-DEE-o) exists and every phrasebook lists it, but Greeks use it far less than visitors expect: it carries the weight of a real parting, the goodbye you say when you don't know whether you'll see someone again. Leaving a shop, a taverna or a conversation, it is yassas — and at the end of a night, kalinihta.
And the question that follows. Τι κάνεις; (ti KA-nis) to a friend, τι κάνετε; (ti KA-ne-te) to anyone else — how are you. The answer expected of you is καλά, ευχαριστώ (ka-LA, ef-ha-ri-STO), fine, thank you. It is more often a real question in Greece than it is in English, but at a counter a nod and a smile close it perfectly well.
What Greeks Do With Their Hands and Face
Meeting a stranger: a handshake, from both men and women, with direct eye contact. The eye contact is not optional; it reads as respect.
Meeting someone you know: one kiss on each cheek — women to women, and women to men. Men shake hands, or hug with a back-pat if they're close. Younger Greeks are markedly more physical than older ones.
In a shop or a café: no contact at all. The verbal greeting and a nod. But do greet. Walking into a Greek establishment in silence is read as mildly rude — a small thing, but a real one. Yassas or kalimera on the way in; efharisto and yassas on the way out. That's the whole transaction.
On the phone: εμπρός (em-BROS), literally forward. Greeks do not answer a call with kalimera or yassas, and hearing embros is a small sign you have reached a Greek household rather than a tourist-facing desk. Older Greeks sometimes answer λέγετε (LE-ye-te), speak. Younger ones pick up to a saved number with ναι (ne), yes, or just έλα (E-la), which is closer to go ahead than to hello.
Arriving in Greece: Your First Kalimera
For most visitors the first real greeting of the trip happens in an arrivals hall — to a driver holding a sign, at a hotel desk, in the first taxi. It's a low-stakes place to try it, because the person you're greeting deals with visitors all day and will meet a wobbly kalimera with genuine warmth.
If you would rather that first kalimera went to someone already holding a sign with your name on it, our guide to airport transfers in Greece covers which airports actually need one.
What Yassou and Yassas Actually Mean
Here is the thing that makes the Greek greeting system cohere, and it's worth knowing even though you don't need it to use the words correctly.
Γεια (ya) means health.
Γεια σου — health to you. Γεια σας — health to you all. It is not "hello" the way English means hello; it is a wish. And it's the same word you'll raise a glass with: γεια μας — yamas — health to us, the toast covered in full in cheers in Greek.
Which is why the same word does hello and goodbye. You aren't marking an arrival or a departure. You are wishing someone well, and that wish works in both directions.
The same wish-shaped logic runs through the Greek for happy name day, hronia polla, many years; our guide to Greek name days has the full set of greetings and the calendar of who celebrates when.
Kalimera, kalispera and kalinihta follow the same logic — kali (good) + mera (day), spera (evening), nihta (night). Every Greek greeting is a small wish, spoken out loud. That's the whole system, and once you see it, the words stop needing to be memorised.
Written down, it is γεια σου and γεια σας, or ΓΕΙΑ ΣΟΥ and ΓΕΙΑ ΣΑΣ on a sign. The spelling is what catches people out: the ει in γεια is read as a single ya sound rather than as two separate letters, which is why the romanisation looks nothing like the Greek. You will also see γειά σου written with an accent; the standard spelling leaves it off, and no Greek will notice either way. The letter-by-letter key is in our guide to the Greek alphabet.
And the ancient version, since people ask: classical Greek greeted with χαῖρε (HE-re) to one person and χαίρετε (HE-re-te) to several — literally rejoice, the same shape of wish as the modern one but for joy rather than health. The plural survived. It is the χαίρετε in the table above, the stiff formal hello a Greek lawyer might open with, and it is the word Athenians used two and a half thousand years ago.
The gestures matter as much as the greetings, and the one that trips people up is not a greeting at all. A quick upward tilt of the chin means no in Greece, not yes — and the word for yes, ne, sounds like the English no. Our guide to yes and no in Greek covers both, plus the tongue click that also means no.
Plan Your Greece Trip
- Thank You in Greek — efharisto and the essential gratitude phrases
- Greek Phrases Guide — the full practical language guide for visitors
- How to Eat at a Greek Taverna — culture and ordering guide
- Athens Travel Guide — where to use your new greetings first
- How to Plan a Trip to Greece — the full planning framework
- Ordering Food in Greek — every phrase from being seated to paying the bill
- The Greek Alphabet — how to read γεια σας, and every sign you'll meet
- Greek Numbers — 0 to 100 with pronunciation, for prices, tables and ferry times
🇬🇷 Planning a trip to Greece? Use our AI Trip Planner to build your itinerary — Γεια σας!
Written by
Athens-born engineer · Coordinates a 5-expert Greek team · 50+ years combined field experience
I write every article on this site drawing on real, first-hand expertise — mine and that of four colleagues who live and work across Greece daily: a Peloponnese tour operator, a transfer specialist across Athens, Mykonos & Santorini, a Cretan hotel owner, and a Northern Greece hotel supplier. Nothing here comes from a single visit or desk research.
Informed by 5 Greek experts
Every destination we cover has been visited and vetted by at least one team member — not for a review, but as part of their daily work in Greek tourism.