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Published: November 12th 2022
Drop by drop the jug is filled… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were continuing to explore the ancient city of
Athens.
We woke early and headed down to the intimate breakfast room at Hotel Attalos. As always, I opted for Greek yoghurt (which I topped with muesli, fresh honey and cranberries), and we hydrated with countless cups of tea and juice. We were about to embark on another full day of city-based walking, and we needed sustenance to keep us going until lunch.
We set out just after 9am and weaved our way through the narrow and busy morning streets to Plateia Syntagmatos. We crossed the road to the Greek Parliament, watched the presidential guards (evzones) in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier for a few minutes, then continued along Vasilissis Sofias and down Irodou Attikou, where we found a lone evzone outside the barracks of the Presidential Guard. I felt sorry for him, all alone at his post, especially when a large group of regular soldiers marched past him in formation without the slightest hint of acknowledgement. Once they were inside the barracks, he started marching slowly down the street with his arm in the air and poms-poms on his shoes. It
was an intriguing sight, but watching a slow marching evzones is not a good use of time when you are exploring Athens in sweltering heat.
We noticed a heavy police presence on the street, so we retraced our steps and continued along Vasilissis Sofias until we reached the National Gallery in Pangrati. This was our main focus for venturing into the eastern suburbs of Athens, but before immersing ourselves in Greek art, we opted to cross the busy road to a small grassed area that houses an extraordinary glass sculpture titled
Dromeas (The Runner).
This artwork has a somewhat chequered history. It was originally housed in Plateia Omonias, a few minutes’ walk from our hotel, but concerns about vibrations from the underground metro led to its relocation to this unassuming and overgrown area of grass on the side of a busy road in Pangrati – where vibrations from passing traffic were clearly apparent. However, fewer people would visit the sculpture in its current location, so it would be unlikely to cause much harm if it were to collapse. However, I think the sculpture’s lack of public acceptance was the key issue for its relocation. Some loved it; many
didn’t. People find it hard to accept change, so they banish things that are different to the outskirts of cities, towns and villages. As the sunlight refracted through its countless glass sheets, I wondered if
Dromeas was lonely.
Anyway, enough from me on social acceptance and inclusion. We were wilting in the heat of the mid-morning sun, and we needed a photo of
Dromeas. With the sun behind us, our photos were clear and colourful. With the sun in front of us (refracting through the glass), our photos captured the sculpture’s ‘running’ momentum. Which to choose? It was too hot to think, so we crossed the busy road and beelined for the air-conditioned comfort of the National Gallery.
Once inside, we quickly realised the staff were not terribly fond of visitors – from the grumpy woman scanning our bags, to the uppity arty guy at reception selling us tickets, to the overzealous security teams patrolling the gallery spaces. They all seemed to become terribly anxious whenever anyone stopped to look at a painting. Maybe it was me. I did notice a red beam of light across my hands every time I tried to photograph micro details in a
painting. I may have got a bit close on the odd occasion…
Having said that, the curation was good, although a little light on. Considering the monumental size of the building (which closed for renovations in 2013 and only recently reopened in 2021), there was hardly enough artwork to fill the vast open spaces. I’m an unashamed advocate of sparseness, but I think paying customers could have been offered a little more artwork for their 15-euro entry fee.
The curation spanned four floors – European art and a temporary exhibition on the ground floor, nineteenth century art on the first floor, twentieth century art on the second floor and twenty first century art on the third floor. I thought my interest would increase exponentially as I made my way upwards, but the opposite occurred. My interest waned considerably as I climbed each stairwell. The more modern the art, the less interested I became. This was unusual, because I’ve always been drawn to modern forms of art – or at least those that are contemporary to my point of reference.
Anyway, the works I like most were as follows:
> The Flight from Parga (Tsokos)
> Vigil for
the Pasha of Tangier (Rallis)
> On the Terrace or Athenian Evening (Rizos)
> Santorini (Maleas)
> Triptych E (Spyropoulos)
> Two Chairs (Tsoclis)
> Haystack (Manoussakis).
Artistic preference, like everything else in life, is very relative and subjective. Having said this, I struggled to understand my preference for nineteenth century paintings in the National Gallery. I was also bewildered by four young girls who ran in front of me as I was walking towards the public toilets on the first floor. Two of them disappeared into the female toilets, while the other two disappeared into the male toilets. Brazen as you like. Their laughter echoed through the gallery as I grudgingly retraced my steps and made my way down to the ground floor toilets. Kids these days!
Having wandered all floors of the National Gallery, we were ready to head back out into the searing midday sun. We retraced our steps along Vasilissis Sofias to the Greek Parliament building, where we captured a few more photos of the presidential guards in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We then crossed to Plateia Syntagmatos to watch a small but rowdy protest of health workers and nurses
– who were all being closely watched by a group of riot police.
It was time for lunch, so we made our way to Glykys – a leafy and serene cafe in Plaka. I immediately felt at home in the tranquil ambiance of this place. Having been on our feet for three and half hours, we were in desperate need of a cold drink. I opted for a Mythos beer, while Ren hydrated with two homemade lemonades. We ordered bread,
tzatziki (dip of yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, salt and olive oil), roasted eggplant salad and pastrami pie, and apart from the pie – which was a little too cheesy for a stinking hot day – the food was incredible.
After lunch we wandered the streets of Plaka, then passed into Monastiraki – where by pure chance we found ourselves walking the boundary of the Ancient Agora. We were a bit taken aback when we saw trains speeding along exposed railway tracks that seemed to run underneath this historic centre where Socrates used to wander. Life has to go on (I suppose), and people need to get from A to B. Why spend time circumventing a ruin when you can
find a way through it?
We took a shortcut through the streets of Psyrri on the way back to our hotel, picking up some gelati on the way. Heading straight to the hotel’s rooftop bar, we cooled down with the gelati while staring at the Acropolis – it forever reminded us where we were. We’d been exploring this incredible city for six solid hours, and our feet were feeling it. It was time to escape the searing mid-afternoon sun. We settled in our room and caught up on our travel notes.
Dinner was soon upon us. We walked a short distance to Atlantikos, a bustling seafood restaurant in our local neighbourhood of Psyrri. We ordered a selection of shared plates – mussels in white wine; fried calamari; fried cod; Greek salad; fava beans with anchovies; fried potatoes; boiled wild greens;
taramasalata (dip of salted and cured fish roe, olive oil, lemon juice and bread) and fresh bread. The meal was extraordinary. I have never eaten calamari quite like this, and nowhere near as flavoursome.
We started the meal with a glass of ouzo poured over ice, and we finished with a shot of raki served icy cold
from the fridge. Both were amazing. Our incredibly enjoyable meal was enhanced by the restaurant’s friendly staff. We left Atlantikos and walked the narrow, cobbled lanes of Psyrri for a while, admiring the neighbourhood’s striking street art. This place has a very hard urban edge, and the street art was powerful and insightful. We wandered back to the hotel around 10pm.
We were leaving Athens the next morning, but we knew we would be returning in just over a week, so the parting wasn’t going to be difficult. We’d grown very fond of this city. We loved the urban subculture, the architecture, the food, the street art and the relaxed way of life. We were already looking forward to coming back, and we hadn’t even left… a tell-tale sign that we love a place.
SHE SAID... By our third morning in
Athens, we had a consistent morning routine. We were still waking up before the alarm, so we were in Hotel Attalos’ breakfast room when it opened at 7am. We knew the buffet offerings well by now, and could zero in on exactly what we wanted. Andrew would beeline for his muesli, yoghurt and honey, while
I’d settled for a ‘Greek’ breakfast of delicious tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, feta, a boiled egg, kasseri cheese, salami, a sesame seed roll and
dolmades (vine leaf rolls stuffed with herbed rice). And I couldn’t help ‘supplementing’ this with a small serve of whatever Greek pies and pastries that were on offer.
It should be noted that even though I call this my ‘Greek’ breakfast, it’s Greek only in flavour and ingredients. Greeks don’t eat any of those things for breakfast; at most they would have a sweet pastry or a bready sesame encrusted ring (called a
koulouri) with a coffee. Andrew has been absolutely loving his Greek yoghurt and honey breakfast, which is far more Greek than my take on things. 😊
I shouldn’t neglect to mention our constant trips to the tea station too. We have a kettle in our room, but we are still averaging five or so cups of tea each at breakfast (noting they are small cups!). Very oddly, the tea/coffee station has been placed in the most cramped spot on the L-shaped buffet table, and right next to the toaster. It never fails to create a traffic jam, and the predictably rising frustration
of people to go with said traffic jam is comical to watch. I was amazed at how many people choose to plant themselves in front of the toaster, blatantly blocking the use of the coffee machine while they guarded their slow toasting bread with their lives. 😊
We love people watching, and my favourite ‘fascinating’ people at the breakfast buffet this morning were… a guy who brought a pair of ornate chopsticks in his shirt pocket, but only used them to eat fruit (he used the hotel cutlery to eat everything else); a woman who emptied all the jugs of juice and cold water into the water bottles of her five family members (her grown up kids were so embarrassed); and a guy who felt he had to tell everyone that he was taking a cup of coffee up to his wife who was still in bed (Andrew whispered ‘I think he wants a medal’)! 😄
This was our last full day in Athens on this section of our trip – we’d be returning for two more very short spells while crisscrossing the country via Athens. We thought we’d have a low-key day by catching the metro to
the National Gallery in the neighbourhood of Pangrati. However, on looking at the map, we decided it would be better to walk there and see more of Syntagma and other areas on the way… so it was going to be another big day on our feet!
I tend to do all the pre-trip planning before we get to a country, and then Andrew works within that framework and does the daily on-the-ground planning and navigation. It works quite well as a system for us, because I’m pretty hopeless with my lefts and rights, and Andrew loves a good navigation challenge using an old-school paper map. Andrew estimated a 45-minute walk to the gallery (taking into account a couple of stops) and he was absolutely spot-on.
We walked via the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I think I may be a bit obsessed with watching and photographing these ceremonial guards (called Evzones)! I had read about their barracks being around the corner behind the Parliament building, and seeing as we were walking in that direction anyway, we decided to check it out.
There was one Evzone on duty at the entrance to the barracks. It was a little
sad that all that pomp and ceremony with his marching up and down the road was not witnessed by anyone. I asked a soldier at the barracks gate for permission to photograph the Evzone, and with his blessing we stood and watched (and photographed) this lone guard do his thing. I wondered if this was a part of the training process before the guards go on proper duty at the Tomb. The only other witnesses to this performance were four office workers who had come out of their building for a cigarette break.
While standing in the middle of the pavement photographing the Evzone, we heard the stomp of marching boots and looked up to see a whole troupe of soldiers in their military fatigues bearing down on us in full formation! A bit stunned and unsure of what to do, we stood rooted to the spot. No one paid us any attention, so we quickly figured out it was just the soldiers from the Presidential Palace returning to their barracks. They swerved left into their gates just before they bowled us over!
We’d been there a few minutes when it suddenly felt a bit weird that the
two of us were standing and staring at the poor lone Evzone, so we self-consciously snuck off. At the corner of the street we had noticed two police buses full of riot gear, and a few policemen seemingly resting at the back of the buses. We know that Greece has had its share of protests and sometimes violent riots in recent years, but none of the locals seemed perturbed, so we kept walking.
We were in the administrative quarter of the city. It was an unexpectedly greener area than the other neighbourhoods. There were beautiful neoclassical buildings housing embassies and museums, and modern hotels and office blocks lining the wide, clearly prestigious street of Vasilissis Sofias Avenue. It was already quite hot at 9:30am, and it was lovely to have the option of ducking through gardens and walking across parks to get to the gallery.
I’d read about glass sculpture called the ‘Runner’ that was at an intersection near the gallery. It’s an unusual but very interesting sculpture. When admired from afar, you can see the clear shape of a person running (with a clever impression of movement). But up close, it looked like a shapeless jumble of
stacked glass. It was apparently designed for Omonia Square, but was moved due to fears the constant rumblings of the underground metro would damage it. I would have been more worried about people accidently impaling themselves on the many jagged edges of glass!
We then crossed the very busy intersection to the sprawling complex that houses the National Gallery. This complex has been purpose-built and only very newly opened. The art sits over four levels – temporary exhibitions in the basement, pre and 19th century on level one, 20th century on level 2 and 21st century on level 3. I love looking at a wide range of art, but I’m naturally drawn to art with a very minimalist approach and simple clean lines. Consequently, mid-20th century and modern works tend to appeal to me a lot more. However, I was surprised at how many very strong and emotive pieces I liked in the older art sections too.
The paintings I was very drawn to included ‘Athens Houses’ by Nikos Hatzikyriakos-Ghika (1927-1928), ‘Hydra’ by Nikos Nikolaou (1953), and Yannis Tsarouchis’ two related works ‘Neon Cafe (Daytime)’ 1956-66 and ‘Neon Cafe (Night)’ 1965-66. However, my two most favourite pieces were
‘On the Terrace or Athenian Evening’ by Iakovos Rizos (1897) and ‘Haystack’ by Michalis Manoussakis (1990-91). Andrew and I often have different taste in art, so it was very surprising that when we discussed the four-level gallery over lunch, we both picked the same two favourite paintings! 😊
I’m glad we made the effort to visit the National Gallery, but it’s clearly still finding its feet, and many things that would have enhanced our experience were missed. For example, there wasn’t a map of the sprawling gallery building, and the staff could definitely do with a bit more training. The security screening and ticket staff were particularly rude, and this was the first case of anything close to rudeness we’d experienced in the country. But most annoying of all was that the guards on each floor were overly anxious about protecting the art work – they swooped and circled us the entire time we were there. This was particularly hilarious, as we were often the only two people in the vast rooms… what will they do when big crowds or school groups descend? Will they hire more staff to circle every single person?
We also noted that considering
the ticket price, the gallery didn’t have a very extensive collection (in comparison to other national galleries we’ve visited). But even though we weren’t hugely impressed with the gallery, I know it’s still very early days, and I’m sure they’ll find their groove with time. At the very least it gave us a good introduction to, and understanding of, Greek art through the ages. Plus, I found out that El Greco’s real name was Domenicos Theotokopoulos! 😊
We wouldn’t have ventured so far out of central Athens if not for the gallery, and I’m so glad we did (and also that we’d walked there). The neighbourhood of Pangrati showed us the most ‘every day’ and local side of Athens we’d seen so far… in fact, we hadn’t seen another tourist since we’d left Syntagma that morning.
We walked back to central Athens via the Changing of the Guard Ceremony again, and yes, I took a heap more photos! I was only half joking when I mentioned earlier that I’m quite obsessed with the Evzones and their ceremonial march (and those super cute shoe pom-poms). 😄
It also became apparent why there had been two busses of riot
police earlier that morning – there was a loud protest going on in Syntagma Square. From what we could gather, it was about healthcare and (possibly) better wages for health professionals. Even though it all looked very organised and relatively peaceful, we didn’t hang around because we know how quickly things can escalate when tempers flare.
We decided to have lunch in Plaka and easily found the LP recommended taverna we were after. We were definitely getting to know the streets better, but it also helped that the business hadn’t closed down or moved! I haven’t mentioned yet that being able to recognise some letters of the Greek alphabet has been extremely helpful in reading street signs in Athens. I had eyeballed the Greek alphabet as part of my pre-trip research, but it absolutely surprised me that I was able to access long forgotten recesses of my brain to recall Greek letters from my maths and science classes at Uni (from about 30 years ago!). Who knew any of that stuff would ever come in handy in a real-life situation? 😊
I noticed that we seemed to keep inevitably circling back to the historic neighbourhood of Plaka, and
I wondered why that was. Plaka is undoubtedly very touristy, and some of the main streets are genuinely painful and pure madness to walk through. Yet we had also stumbled upon areas that were absolutely lovely. There are beautiful quiet streets, small ruins (either being actively excavated or simply cordoned off), local churches, local houses and – most importantly – great options for local food. Of all the areas we’d explored so far, the quieter parts of Plaka gave the best sense of how modern Athens evolved from its ancient city origins.
Back to lunch. Glykys was an understated taverna with a beautiful shady courtyard. It had a very chilled and easy-going ambiance. It was rather late in the afternoon when we got there, and a couple of the tables were showing signs of a long lunch (judging from the happy laughter and the number of beer bottles / used shot glasses scattered on the tables). There’s something very pleasurable about seeing friends eating, drinking, laughing and solving the world’s problems. I also liked that it was a very eclectic crowd, with seemingly more locals than tourists.
We settled in with meze plates of an extremely silky roasted
eggplant (aubergine),
tzatziki (dip of yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, salt and olive oil), pita bread and a
pastourmadopita (pastrami and cheese pie). Apart from the pie being far too cheesy for our taste, everything else was superb! I couldn’t get enough of their icy cold homemade lemonade and Andrew had a Mythos beer. Andrew’s been trying the different local beers, and I think Mythos is emerging as his favourite so far.
It was a lovely summer day, and we were doing exactly what one should do on a lovely summer afternoon in Athens – drinking, eating meze and loving life! 😊
We continued our ‘summer vibe’ by buying two sorbets from a handmade ice cream place literally around the corner from our hotel. I had read good things about Kokkion, but hadn’t realised it was less than 100m from the hotel! Kokkion’s hype was spot on – my tangerine and ginger sorbet was absolutely divine, and Andrew loved his lemon and basil flavour (although it was a bit too sour for me). Could you get anymore ‘summer afternoon in Athens’ than eating freshly made sorbet on a hotel rooftop, with a stunning view of the gorgeous Parthenon? 😄
We had walked for a solid six hours. By the time we returned to the hotel around 3pm, I was pretty much ready for a long nap. But we were leaving Athens the next morning… so after I cooled down with my sorbet, I had to pack as well as prepare for our Intrepid Travel group meeting at 6pm. We were starting the
Greece Real Food Adventure trip.
We have done a few Intrepid Travel food trips, and the vast majority have been seriously brilliant. Consequently, our excitement levels were quite high. We were the first to arrive at the meeting at the hotel rooftop, where we met our Group Leader Georgia. Georgia had a background in leading food trips in Athens, but was relatively new to Intrepid Travel. She had only led this trip once before, but was very vivacious and enthusiastic, and seemed genuinely excited to show us Greece. In addition to the normal group meeting paperwork and organisation, we also had to complete a COVID-19 health checklist and show Georgia our international vaccination certificates. Other group members were Liz (UK/Sydney), Dani (Sydney), Mariana and Pedro (Portugal) and Kathrin (Germany).
It was a small group of
seven, and I was happy to hear that everyone in the group had travelled at least once with Intrepid. In my experience, the people who frequently travel with Intrepid are not only aware of Intrepid’s sustainable and responsible travel ethos, but also tend to have similar values themselves. This hopefully meant (but didn’t always guarantee) that we would all get along well as travel companions. 😊
We regrouped in the hotel foyer a bit later and went to dinner at Georgia’s favourite seafood taverna – Atlantikos. We had explored most of the streets and lanes in Psyrri, but had somehow missed Avliton, a very tiny graffiti filled lane where the taverna was located. It was agreed that Georgia would order for us, and with the help of two very amiable waiters, a whole lot of food was agreed upon.
We started with a complimentary small bottle of
ouzo (an aniseed flavoured spirit) that was plonked on the table! This Greek practice of sometimes giving customers complimentary drinks and desserts is a very normal (and hospitable) gesture; but because I was so unused to it, it felt slightly bizarre.
Then the food came out thick and fast… fava
beans (dip of yellow split peas, olive oil and onions), fava beans with anchovies,
taramasalata (dip of salted and cured fish roe, olive oil, lemon juice and bread), Greek salad,
horta (boiled wild greens), fried potatoes, mussels in white wine, fried stuffed baby calamari, fried cod with garlic, and bread. Everything was lovely, but my absolute favourites were the fava beans and the baby calamari! They were utterly delicious! 😊
I’d heard of ‘fava bean’ dip before, and had naturally (!) assumed it was made with fava beans (what we call broad beans in Australia). However, it turns out that it’s made with yellow split peas. The south Asian dish
dahl (also made with yellow split peas) is something I’ve loved since childhood, and is still one of my most favourite foods. It explained the immediate love I had for Greek fava beans.
Even though there were eight of us at the table, we just couldn’t finish all the dishes. I was so full, I didn’t think I would be able to walk back to the hotel! As we sat and chatted over complimentary
limoncello (lemon liqueur) and
loukoumi (Greek/Turkish Delight, small jelly like cubes of sugar and
corn starch with various flavourings), I knew we were going to eat well on this trip, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to eat this volume of food every night for the next 10 days!
As we exited the restaurant, we noticed a long queue snaking around the corner and into the adjoining lane. It seems that while we were taking our time enjoying our meal and chatting, people had been waiting for a table for up to an hour. I mentioned to Georgia that I felt bad we had been dawdling when people were waiting for tables, and she replied that in Greece people never rush their meals. Then she smiled and said that they should have booked like we did. Fair enough. 😊
Georgia took us on a short walk around the neighbourhood, and Psyrri was even more vibrant at night than we’d experienced during the day. Whole streets were abuzz with music, bar chatter and outdoor restaurants. We were on the hunt for pieces of well-known street art, and while there were various beautiful and/or thought-provoking pieces, predictably, there was also a lot of graffiti.
We love street art and always
look out for it in cities we visit. I value it not just for its aesthetic value, but because it also gives us a window into a certain aspect of an urban society. The transient nature of street art gives it a unique time-stamped social and political commentary that I love. Andrew and I had both seen a piece that stated ‘Berlin is the New Athens!’ and we were intrigued by it.
On seeing another version of the same statement, I asked Georgia about it and she explained it was a pushback by local artists against media reports claiming Athens had bounced back from the economic crisis. The media, and possibly the government, had drawn parallels to Berlin’s recovery and flourishing art scene in the ‘90s by declaring ‘Athens is the New Berlin’. However, grassroot artists claimed this was a whitewashing myth, and reversed the slogan to draw attention to how much more work needs to be done with housing and employment if the arts scene in Athens is to truly thrive.
There’s no doubt that Psyrri was a neighbourhood on the rise, but such gentrification certainly has its downsides. Georgia confirmed that rentals were skyrocketing, and even
though the hospitality and creative scenes were seemingly going from strength to strength, it was only advantageous to a certain faction of those industries – struggling artists and students were being priced out of the area.
Psyrri reminded me of the gentrification of suburbs like Northcote and Fitzroy in Melbourne, and North Hobart and New Town in Hobart. There are many examples the world over. They begin as spaces with a beautiful mix of cultural and social diversity, where everyone is welcome, and unique and edgy ideas for small businesses blossom. It creates a vibrant melting pot where students, young people, migrants, struggling artists etc. live and socialise. And then as it becomes more popular and sort after, the simple equation of demand and supply causes the people who built and nourished the space to be priced out of it. 😞
I’m not a fan of gentrification, or should I say, I like a little bit of it but not too much of it. I suppose it’s my desire for the whole world to abide by a balanced ‘just right’ Goldilocks principle! I want economic, cultural and social diversity in a thriving, safe and beautiful space… where we
can get an authentic curry, but also great affordable coffee with soy milk! Is that too much to ask? 😉
Anyway, back to the tiny lanes of Psyrri. Georgia’s favourite street art was a mural of a dog called Loukanikos – a stray dog who gained fame when he attached himself to the anti-austerity protestors in 2010 and attended all the marches and rallies. He was apparently often at the front, barking at the approaching police. I looked up his Wikipedia page (yes, he has one!) which clearly shows that he was much loved by the public. When Loukanikos died in 2014, many murals like this one had sprung up in his honour. What a beautiful and brave doggie. 😊
Even though we all claimed we were extremely full from dinner, when Georgia got us a freshly baked
bougatsa (custard phyllo pie) from the famous Bougastadiko Thessaloniki bakery we happened to be passing… none of us declined a piece. We just couldn’t resist the fresh-out-of-the-oven pastry. I introduced the concept of my ‘dessert tummy’ to the group, and Dani agreed that she definitely had one when it came to anything custardy too. I have a feeling we are
going to get along quite well. 😉
I was grateful for the gentle walk after that hefty dinner. Back at the hotel, Andrew and I both acknowledged that even though we were excited about our upcoming travels, we were a bit sad to be leaving Athens. As one of the oldest cities in the world, Athens has history oozing out of its every pore. It’s hard to avoid absorbing it while walking along the cobblestone streets, through old-world markets, past ubiquitous ruins and timeworn churches, and with views of that iconic hilltop temple from every vantage point. Some old cities can feel like Disney-fied museums with no real life in them, but Athens is far from that. It thankfully still retains some grit and rough edges that give it the feel of a genuine living breathing city.
Athens gets a bit of a bad rap from some tourists, and we had our fair share of ‘why are you going to Athens?’ chatter. As we’ve always maintained, we like hearing about people’s experiences, and everyone is absolutely entitled to their opinion… but that’s never going to stop us from wanting to experience places for ourselves. I know that Athens
was deep-cleaned and spruced up for the Olympics in 2004; and that it also got the metro and many other positive urban planning boosts. I can’t speak for how Athens used to be, but I can wholeheartedly say that right now, Athens is a great place to visit!
One of my most loved aspect of travelling is seeing how close my preconceptions of a place are to the real thing. In the case of Athens and its neighbourhoods:
> I had thought
Pangrati would be boring and peripheral, but the little we saw of it felt very local and down to earth;
> I had believed
Syntagma (known as the administrative area) would be sterile, but it had beautiful architecture that kept me interested;
> I had been sure I would love
Monastiraki (known as a central meeting hub with markets and restaurants), but I have only seen small areas of it that I like/would hang out in;
> I had been prepared to dislike
Plaka (described as having more tourists than locals), but I found I really enjoyed exploring its quieter parts;
> I had assumed I would like the seclusion and unique nature of
Anafiotika (described as
a hidden neighbourhood), but in reality it felt like we were intruding and invading the residents’ privacy;
> I had supposed I would like the grit and urban revival of
Psyrri, and in this case I found I was spot-on! I really loved the ‘old meets retro meets edgy’ creative vibe of it! Our hotel address reads Monastiraki, but I’m very grateful that it’s in fact much closer to the more local area of Psyrri than the tiresomely touristy centre of Monastiraki.
Athens has been everything I thought it would be and much much more. I genuinely can’t wait to return in 10 or so days.
Next we travel southwest to Aegina, a Saronic Gulf island that’s famous for growing the best pistachios in the country.
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Chris L.
non-member comment
Syntagma
We stayed near Syntagma sq. many decades ago. The architecture was indeed grand. I have appreciated the grand tour of Athens. Bon voyage.