Advertisement
Published: November 5th 2022
A heart that loves is always young… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were continuing to explore the ancient city of
Athens.
Wide awake at 5:30am, our bodies still adjusting to the eight-hour time difference between Greece and Australia, we used the early morning stillness to prepare for a self-guided walking tour of central Athens. This time there would be no disgruntled tour guide. Armed only with a small map and endless enthusiasm, we were looking forward to a day of fortuitous adventure. 😊
But first there was breakfast. We loved the breakfast room at Hotel Attalos, not only for its fabulous and slightly eccentric array of breakfast provisions, but also for the unexpected (and entirely free) entertainment provided by hotel guests – especially the grumpy ones. There’s nothing more amusing than an unhappy camper who can’t work the coffee machine.
Anyway, breakfast was great. I couldn’t resist the Greek yoghurt (which I topped with muesli, fresh honey and cranberries), and we hydrated with countless cups of tea and juice. We were ready to explore Athens – on foot.
We set out at 9:30am and headed straight to Plateia Syntagmatos. As we arrived, we found ourselves standing outside Hotel Grande Bretagne, one of the
most luxurious and expensive hotels in Athens. A number of guests were milling around the entrance, and my inner Marx whispered: ‘There are no comrades amongst that lot’. I promptly told to him to calm down! Besides, I knew damn well I would’ve been in there like shot if we’d won a couple of nights stay at the Grande Bretagne. The contents of the mini-bar and bathroom cabinet would not have been safe!
In all seriousness though, I started feeling very protective of our little old hotel in Psyrri. I bet Grande Bretagne didn’t have a bottomless glass container of complimentary
mastika (mastic liqueur) on the reception counter. I bet it didn’t have a bespoke old lift with barely enough room for two people. I bet the lift didn’t have a recorded woman’s voice that told you the floor number when the door opened. (We were on the ‘Tird Floor’). I bet it didn’t have incredibly friendly, helpful and welcoming staff that would do anything for you. And I bet it didn’t have the best rooftop bar ever. Maybe it did. Maybe it had all this and more. I realised I’d become very fond (very quickly) of our little
old hotel in Psyrri.
There was another reason we found ourselves standing outside Grande Bretagne. The hotel features in the early scenes of
The Two Faces of January, one of the films we watched leading up to this trip. This 2014 film is mostly set in Crete, but the opening scenes are set in Athens – at the Acropolis and here at the Grande Bretagne. It stars Viggo Mortensen and Kirsten Dunst, two of my favourite actor/actresses. They are extraordinary in this thriller, and along with Oscar Isaac, they create one of the most intriguing and compelling relationships I’ve ever witnessed in a film. We absolutely loved it.
Viggo Mortensen also stars in
Far from Men, another film produced in 2014. Set in Algeria and loosely based on a short story by Albert Camus (titled
The Guest), it portrays the human impact of neutrality in political conflicts. Mortensen’s portrayal of Daru, a reclusive teacher in the Algerian desert, is simply extraordinary. But I’ve strayed a little here…
After navigating the guests of Hotel Grande Bretagne, we crossed the road to the Greek Parliament, a highly symmetrical (and very rectangular) building opposite Plateia Syntagmatos. Ren was excited because
we were about to witness the changing of the presidential guards in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The Tomb, which rests in front of the Parliament, is dedicated to the memory of Greek soldiers lost to war, and its sculpted figure of a soldier lying prone on the ground is very poignant.
As we stood in front of the Tomb, people started appearing in front of us, behind us and beside us. Within minutes we had been completed absorbed by a chattering and highly excited crowd. Then the presidential guards arrived. Ren knew what to expect. I didn’t.
There have been times in my life where I’ve almost grasped the meaning of rituals and ceremonies (and why we need them). But I have to admit, I was unprepared for soldiers walking strangely with pom-poms on their shoes. It was certainly a spectacle, and one that draws people to this important monument on the hour, every hour, every day. If this is its rationale, the strange ceremonial march of the presidential guards is clearly achieving its goal.
Once the presidential guards had positioned themselves on either side of the Tomb, we sought out the National
Gardens to escape the mid-morning sun. We wandered the cool and calm garden paths on our way to the Temple of Olympian Zeus and Hadrian’s Arch, then changed direction slightly and started making our way towards the Acropolis. Within a minute or so, we stumbled upon the quiet, leafy and very beautiful Church of Agia Ekaterini.
The church offered a welcome retreat from the Athenian sun, so we decided to drop in for a few minutes to cool down and gather our senses. Once inside, we realised the church’s inner self did not reflect its outer appearance. It was in need of some basic tidying and cleaning, and I was surprised to see all of the pews stacked up against a wall. There was nowhere to sit. And then there was the priest. Ren and I have very different theories about this bloke, so this is my take. I cannot vouch for the accuracy of what I’m about to describe, but it’s what my internal radar picked up.
When we entered the church, the priest was on his mobile. I think he was chatting and complaining to one of his priest mates. When he saw us come in,
he thought it would be advantageous if we saw him doing something useful. So he started mopping. Indiscriminately. A bit here, a bit there. There was no method, and his heart wasn’t in it. I’m pretty sure he stopped mopping as soon as we left. So, there was nowhere to sit, and the sloppy mop noise was distracting. Not an ideal place to be at one with God. I felt far more at peace outside the church.
We’d barely walked a few metres from the church when we found ourselves standing in front of the Lysikrates Monument – a few remaining ruins of a bygone era, jutting out of the past and crumbling in the present. This derelict monument, which dates back to 334 BC, is now surrounded on all sides by a modern leafy street. I kept wondering what it would be like to live beside a relic like this. Would it become a key aspect of your cultural identity, or would it eventually disappear from your everyday awareness and blend into the streetscape? I think, for me, it would eventually disappear.
We were now venturing into Plaka, the picturesque suburb at the foot of the Acropolis.
We dropped into a small boutique shop and were immediately drawn to an ‘evil eye’ plate with stunning blue and white colours. We decided to buy it when we returned to Athens in a few weeks’ time. It would be pointless buying it now and carrying it around the country in a backpack…
It was here that I encountered the first of many ‘cock-n-balls’ bottle openers made from wood, with ‘GREECE’ carved in huge letters along the shaft of the penis. There were hundreds of them hanging from a vendor’s stand on the side of the road, and I was stunned. So stunned, in fact, that I couldn’t bring myself to photograph them, let alone buy a few for our dodgy friends back in Australia. If I had purchased one of these bottle openers, would I have been celebrating an important cultural symbol of fertility, or would I have been the victim of crass touristic opportunism? I’m not entirely sure, but I didn’t end up buying any.
We continued our exploration of Plaka, walking up picturesque stairs with restaurants either side to the Church of St George of the Rock. It was here that we entered Anafiotika, a
rabbit warren of small decaying white-washed houses perched on the hillside under the shadow of the Acropolis. It was so bloody hot, and we were wilting in the late morning sun. After walking past the Church of Agios Simeon, we started our descent from the Acropolis hillside, passing the old Athens University on our way to the Roman Agora.
When the Museum of Greek Popular Instruments appeared before us, I was filled with trepidation. I have a slight aversion to folk music, and the thought of a room full of acoustic instruments was way too much to bear. We decided not to venture inside, opting instead to continue our walking tour in the searing midday sun. We passed the Tower of the Winds (visible from so many streets in central Athens) and the Fetiye Mosque before arriving at the ruins of Hadrian’s Library. We continued onward past the well-restored Mosque of Tzistarakis before arriving in the Plateia Monastiraki.
By this stage it had really heated up, so we decided to head back into Plaka for lunch. We made our way along cobble stone streets in search of Damigos, a traditional taverna with barrels of wine chilling in the
cellar, only to find that it had closed down. Oh no! The prospect of cold wine from a barrel had been keeping me going. Undeterred, we made our way to another Plaka-based taverna that had been highly recommended – Aspro Alogo (The White Horse).
Our Plan A taverna may have fallen through, but it mattered little. Aspro Alogo was amazing. It was run by an older couple, and they were run off their feet. The place itself was small and basic, but the food was extraordinary. We ordered a Greek salad, octopus cooked in wine,
tzatziki (dip of yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, salt and olive oil) and pita round flat bread. I cooled down with my first Vergina beer, and the less said about my attempts at pronouncing this the better. The Greek label appeared (to me) as Beprina, and this became my preferred name for it. 😊
We absolutely fell in love with Aspro Alogo. The old guy was running front of house by himself, and I have never seen anyone so flat out in a restaurant. He was literally running back and forth from the kitchen, yet he wasn’t the least bit flustered. This was hospitality at
its best. His wife was cooking in a small kitchen at the back of the taverna, and every now and then she would peek out at us all from behind a curtain, then quickly retreat to continue cooking. They were washing up constantly, as they had no staff, and yet every order arrived so promptly. It was basic fare, but this is exactly the way we love to eat. Everyone received a complimentary apricot juice, a small piece of
halva (fluffy nougat-like sweet of sugar and nuts) and a bottle of water at the end of their meal. Feeling incredibly happy and satisfied, we meandered through the Plaka for a while, then made our way back to the Plateia Monastiraki.
It was incredibly hot by this stage, so we sought refuge from the sun in the narrow shady lanes of the Monastiraki Flea Market. We’d searched unsuccessfully for a local art collective in the market the day before, but we were much luckier today. We chanced upon it accidentally. We ducked inside and refreshed with some cold drinks in the friendly bohemian surrounds, then checked out a small art exhibition in an upstairs loft. I typically comment on art
experiences, but this exhibition had no reason or purpose. We didn’t stay long.
It was time to head home. Thunderstorms were forecast in the late afternoon, and we wanted to be undercover before the rain set in. We made our way back through the familiar streets of Psyrri, and it felt so good to instinctively know our way around without a map. When we finally arrived back at Hotel Attalos at 4pm, we’d been walking for six and a half hours.
We freshened up and headed straight to the rooftop bar, where we (once again) enjoyed an amazing view of the Acropolis. What made it all the more enjoyable was knowing we had been walking on the hillsides of the Acropolis only hours earlier. It may not have quite the same outlook as Hotel Grande Bretagne, but the view from our little rooftop bar will never get passé.
When the rain set in, we headed over the road to get some supplies from the local supermarket, then settled on our private balcony and caught up on our travel notes in the balmy evening air. And as we looked out at the cityscape surrounding us, we realised how
much we love to travel.
SHE SAID... We woke up at 5:30am on our second full day in
Athens. I was hopeful that our body clocks were changing to local time. We worked on our travel notes and planned our day before heading down to breakfast. My eagerness to taste everything new on the breakfast buffet at Hotel Attalos had subsided (relative to the day before), and I was getting to know which of the pastries and sweets I liked and which were to be avoided at all costs. 😊
So far, we had spent our time in Athens in the downtown areas near our hotel – getting to know the neighbourhood of Psyrri and parts of Monastiraki. The plan for our second full day was to undertake the Lonely Planet (LP) Guide self-guided walking tour which would take us through the neighbourhoods of Syntagma, Plaka, Anafiotika and more of Monastiraki.
We left the hotel at 9:30am and walked towards Syntagma Square to watch the Changing of the Guard Ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We were going to be early for the 11am guard changeover, so we detoured via the small 11th
century Church of Panagia Kapnikarea (Church of Presentation of Mary) in the middle of a busy square in Ermou Street.
I absolutely love these tiny old churches that have survived, despite the crush of the modern city around them. Some have been lucky enough to have their own space in a square or walkway, while others have been subsumed into modern city blocks. Most of them are a few steps or so lower than street level, which points to the sturdy construction of these small, often one room buildings. It also reinforces the resolute devoutness of Greece over the ages, despite its many religious and political changes.
We got to Syntagma Square and crossed the road to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (in front of the impressive neoclassical Parliament building). With about 15 minutes to spare before the ceremony began, I had time to observe the guards (called Evzones) at their posts for the last few minutes of their duty. They were guarded by a soldier, probably mostly for tourist crowd control reasons. For their hour of duty, the Evzones have to stand motionless and expressionless, and I noticed that they communicated with their caretaker soldier by
blinking their eyes, but without making eye contact.
I’m not into parades or soldiers or any military related paraphernalia. However, I found the changing of the guard ceremony quite beautiful and moving. At the hour, for 24 hours a day, two Evzones march up from their barracks a block away (with a soldier for security), and replace the two guards on duty. The Evzones are an elite unit of the Greek army, and apparently are soldiers hand-picked for their courage and bravery. We also noticed that they were all eerily of similar body shape and size, so I’m guessing some very tall or short or large soldiers would never make this elite unit, regardless of their bravery or courage. 😉
The Evzones wear a ceremonial dress uniform, which I think is what makes it so interesting and attracts the crowds. I’ve read that their ceremonial uniforms are based on the traditional uniforms worn during the War of Independence, and that each uniform is handmade! The uniform changes with the seasons, but it was a hot morning in late August and I could see that they were sweltering in their summer uniforms of a light khaki brown tunic (called
a doulama) with stockings, red pillar box hats with really long black tassels, and clogs (tsarouhi) adorned with black pom-poms (yes really!).
During the ceremony I was mesmerised by their very distinct ceremonial march/walk. It was unlike any other military style I’ve seen. It was extremely measured and theatrical, and almost like a slow-motion dance step. I was super impressed with their intense focus, but also had to suppress a giggle at the sometimes-comic moves (I kept thinking of Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks!). 😄
As much as their very unique and peculiar ceremonial march/walk was the main focus of the ceremony, I have to admit that I was (quite weirdly) distracted by the black pom-poms on the tips of their studded clogs. I think I took more closeup photos of their clogs and pom-poms than the actual ceremony. We ended up seeing the Evzones a few times, and my fascination with the pom-poms never waned. 😄
After the Changing of the Guard, we walked into the National Gardens. There is a beautiful avenue of towering palm trees as you enter the gardens through the main entrance, with Cypress and other big trees scattered elsewhere. However,
apart from the beautiful ancient trees, I didn’t think the gardens were as beautiful as they could be. It certainly had the bones of a well-designed garden with ponds, trellised walkways, statues and even some ruins, but it had a slightly sad and uncared for look and feel. Regardless, the gardens provide much needed shade and nature in this concrete-heavy city.
We walked through the gardens to the Temple of Olympian Zeus, and Hadrian’s Arch next to it. Hadrian certainly got around the Roman Empire, didn’t he? And he definitely wasn’t shy about naming things after himself! There isn’t much left of the once-ornate marble arch, but enough to give an impression of how grand it must have been. Despite its (now) very odd position crammed in between the Temple of Zeus ruins and a very busy road, I still took a liking to this arch.
When planning this trip, we were faced with making a decision on which of the numerous ruins in Athens we’d make time to visit. Thankfully I read a blog that suggested that many of the ruins are visible from the road through their metal fences, so we were hoping that we could
make an informed decision after this walking tour.
Even though the Temple of Olympian Zeus was the largest temple ever built, on seeing that only three of the temple pillars (of those still standing) were not under scaffolding, we both decided we’d skip paying the entrance fee to this one.
We crossed the busy road next to Hadrian’s Arch and went hunting for the tiny Church of Agia Ekaterini (Church of St Catherine). It was supposed to stand out from all the other tiny churches in the vicinity by having a roman ruin in its forecourt. We spotted a gorgeous Ionic column before we spotted the small church shrouded in trees behind it. The roman ruin was below street level, and the top of the column was at our eye level.
I liked this small incense-heavy 11th century Byzantine church despite it being a visual smack in the face. It was crammed full of frescoes, framed holy pictures, chandeliers, candelabra, piles of boxes of candles and what looked like a whole lot of extra pews stacked on one side. I didn’t know what to look at first, and I had an overwhelming desire to tidy up and
create some space and order! However, this urge quicky faded in the face of a grumpy priest having words with someone on his mobile phone – not the most welcoming or sacred vibe! When he finished the call, he hitched up the ends of his black robes and tucked them into his trouser waistband, and started angrily mopping the stone floors. Firstly, I had never wondered if they wore trousers underneath, but now I know! And secondly, I wondered if the cleaner had just called in sick. 😊
After looking at the very ancient Lysikrates Monument (which commemorates the fact that this street was lined with similar monuments), and after a quick look in some interesting shops, we started climbing up to Stratonos Street (which skirts the Acropolis). I really liked this part of the city; it was calm and had cute little shaded squares with small local cafes.
We passed the very beautiful white church of St George of the Rock. This marked the steep entry into Anafiotika, a tiny neighbourhood that clings to the side of the Acropolis. It’s a very unique part of Athens because it was built by workers from Anafi (a Cyclades island),
who had been shipped over to build the king’s palace. The maze of tiny houses resembles the island style of architecture and has begun to draw crowds after receiving a bit of coverage in the tourism media as a ‘hidden neighbourhood’.
It is also being highlighted by heritage conservationists who are intent on not letting any more of the remaining houses in the enclave be pulled down for development (it’s a prime location on a hill just under the Acropolis). Apparently, there’s now legislation in place that ensures the houses can only be passed down to family members or be sold to descendants of those original Anafi families.
I’m not a fan of telling people what to do with their properties, but if it protects the rights of the remaining families in Anafiotika, I suppose it’s a good move. I think the hope is also that by making it a tourist attraction, there will be more of an incentive to preserve the houses. This is a double-edged sword though... it’s a miniscule neighbourhood of small and very humbly built houses set out in a tight maze. Their doors and windows are right on the footpath and there is
precious little privacy. Therefore, it made me a bit sad to see that residents had put up notices asking tourists to be quiet and to respect their living spaces. 😞
I’m not sure if it was because we had walked uphill or if the hill itself was hotter than the streets below, but we were both extremely hot by now. Anafiotika had some shady areas, but even that hadn’t stopped us sweating profusely and starting to get uncomfortable. Anafiotika is a maze and supposed to be notoriously hard to navigate at the best of times, but because neither of us were thinking very clearly it felt like we were getting disoriented. I suppose it’s a well-known fact that being hot and bothered increases the challenges of navigation by a factor of 10! 😉
We didn’t quite follow the LP Guide walk for the next few streets, but somehow ended up where we were meant to be at the very beautiful neoclassical Old Athens University. It’s the sort of building that would inspire learning, and I really wish we could have seen the inside of the building. However, before we found the Old University, we had been wandering down
random streets and stopping to look at the map multiple times etc… and we came across a woman having a photoshoot.
From afar all we could see was that she had a photographer and was posing for him, so we were courteous and waited (forever) for the photographer to finish – he was using a DSLR, a smaller compact camera, as well as a phone camera for every single pose. In the end we got sick of waiting and decided to keep walking, and as we got closer, we noticed she had very little clothing on (in the middle of a public street!) and had to ‘adjust’ herself when we walked past. As we walked past, I heard her angrily muttering to the photographer about us getting in their way! We found the whole thing rather amusing but the joke was on us when a little later we turned into some steps and I copped an eyeful of her bits! She was getting changed into her next outfit… I repeat… in a public street! 😱
We kept walking down the steps into the Monastiraki neighbourhood. The LP Guide walk took us past a couple of museums we definitely
didn’t have an interest in visiting (or they charged way more than our low interest levels would permit us to pay). We eventually arrived at the Roman Agora and stood looking into the complex for a while.
As well as many smaller ruins, the Roman Agora contained the restored Ottoman Fethiye Mosque, the Gate of Athena and the Tower of the Winds – a marble clocktower and weather vane. We ‘ummed and arred’ about visiting the Roman Agora, and in the end decided that we were too tired to do the entrance fee justice, but would consider returning at some point.
In a spoiler alert I have to reveal that we never returned to visit the Roman Agora! Mostly because in the course of our stay in Athens we walked past the site quite a few times, and fortunately (for us, not the site’s management) the two things we really had an interest in – the Gate of Athena (with its four beautiful and well-preserved Doric columns) and the Tower of the Winds – were right on the boundary of the complex and could be admired without entering the site. I was extremely drawn to the very striking
octagonal marble Tower of the Winds, not just for its architectural beauty but for its ingenious function too. Each of the sides of the octagon faces a point on the compass, and it’s also decorated with a frieze of figures representing the directional winds. Below these are the lines of a sundial. It’s considered the world’s first meteorological station… pretty amazing for 100 to 50 BC!
We skirted around the Roman Forum and the nearby ruins of Hadrian’s Library, and ended up back in Monastiraki Square. I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t really like the square very much, but I’m still surprised that I didn’t take a single photo of this square, not even to show the old Mosque of Tzistarakis on one side or the small monastery church at its centre (which the square gets its name from)!
We checked out a couple of pedestrian streets that radiated from the square, then walked down Pandrosou Street where we stopped for a much-needed cold drink. The Xymopoieio juice shop was doing a roaring trade, and had we not been so thirsty, we’d never had joined a line that was seven deep and counting. Andrew had a lemonade with
mint and I had a watermelon juice with mint – both excellent thirst quenchers.
Monastiraki is known as the best shopping area, but all the pedestrian-only streets we walked along were overloaded with shops full of souvenirs and tourist crap. I have to admit that in among all the mass-produced horrible things, there were a few beautiful gems, but we are too early in our travels to buy anything. We collected business cards from the shops we liked and will definitely return later in the trip.
Further down Pandrosou Street we ended up at Plateia Mitropoleos, a large square on which stands the very grandiose Athens Cathedral. This is a relatively new church (by Athens’ standards 1842 is new!), and according to at least two locals, Athenians see this as the church for politicians and rich people; and they much prefer the smaller Agia Irini (Church of St Irene) because it has more soul. We’d been eating
loukoumades (puffy doughnut balls drenched in honey and sprinkled with cinnamon) close to the steps of Agia Irini the day before, but had been far too tired to even pop in. I must rectify this when we next walk past the
church.
I didn’t mind the large Cathedral, but it is one of the largest Orthodox churches I’ve seen, and I can see how people who are used to praying in small one or two room churches would find it soulless. In a weird reflection of my thoughts, as we walked out of the immense Cathedral and turned left, literally next door sat the tiny Agios Eleftherios and Panagia Gorgoepikoos (Church of St Eleftherios and the Virgin Mary Quick to Answer Prayers). It was a gorgeous little church, and I fell in love with it immediately! 😊
It’s a 12th century Byzantine church that was built on the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated to the goddess Eleithya. The outside marble walls were reclaimed from other ruins and still show bas reliefs of ancient gods. The frieze above the entrance door displays something akin to a Zodiac. The sparse interior walls of exposed medieval stone were the absolute definition of minimalist – not a term I’d normally associate with Orthodox churches. Lit overhead by just one simple metal chandelier, it immediately drew my attention to the sole remaining fresco of the Virgin Mary (Panagia) that sits above the central
altar. My eye was then drawn up to the beautiful octagonal brick dome. In a weird illusion of height, the photos I took inside this tiny church make it look much larger than it really was. We had visited (to various degrees) a few Orthodox churches by this point, and this small church (affectionately called the Little Cathedral) was hands-down my absolute favourite so far.
We then walked back into the Plaka neighbourhood. Try as we might, we just couldn’t find the LP Guide recommendation we’d picked for lunch. We walked up and down Kydathineon Street about four times before we asked for help at a neighbouring business. They confirmed that we had indeed found the right address, but the renowned Damigos underground tavern was now a wine bar. The LP Guide we were using was only one year old, but it was the second time we found it to be already outdated. COVID had clearly collected many hospitality scalps in Athens (as elsewhere in the world).
We opted for our second choice, which I had recently read about on a food blogger’s site. Lunch at the tiny Aspro Alogo (White Horse) on a small lane was unexpectedly
good. The food was very authentic and local, but weirdly all the customers were tourists. The premises were pretty basic, but we overlooked that because we were charmed by the slightly eccentric owner. It was amazing to watch him manage the whole front of house (about 20 seats) by himself, with his wife doing all the cooking in the tiny kitchenette just behind our table. No sooner would a table leave than it would be filled, and at one point there was even a small line of people waiting outside.
We ordered a Greek salad which was exceptional, plus a velvety smooth but appropriately zingy
tzatziki (dip of yoghurt, cucumber, garlic, salt and olive oil) with warm pita bread, and perfectly cooked octopus tentacles in wine. Andrew enjoyed a local Vergina beer, but as generally is the case when I travel, I ordered a coke with my lunch. The salad was a meal in itself, so we decided not to order anything more.
The bill was scribbled on a piece of paper, after which the owner gave us a complimentary dessert of
halva (fluffy nougat-like sweet of sugar and nuts) and a shot glass of apricot nectar; and
on leaving he also thrust a bottle of cold water each into our hands. The food was fresh and delicious, and it was a perfect sized lunch for two hungry beings. The only downside to the place was that on returning from the bathroom, Andrew advised me that I probably shouldn’t use the facilities… that put a slight dampener on a possible return visit.
As we were in the Plaka area, we did a quick detour to check out an old favourite restaurant of some friends of ours (from their visit many years ago). We had intended to have a coffee at Psara Tavern, but decided against it when we saw rain clouds gathering in the distance. We thought it would be safer to stop somewhere closer to the hotel.
Something I’m yet to mention is that Athens is full of cats! And in the best possible way. It’s often hard to tell if they are street cats or pets. I’ve seen a handful of scrawny ones around the main roads, but the vast majority are well fed and relaxed kitties. While on a small street in Plaka, I saw a woman stop in front of a sleeping
cat… she pulled out a small tin of cat food from her handbag, opened it and placed it near the sleeping cat, and kept walking. It made my heart nearly burst with happiness. There are also ‘cat stations’ with bowls of water and dry food on most streets. I saw this in Turkey, and to a lesser extent in Morocco too. These small but beautiful gestures almost restore my faith in humanity. Almost.
We left Plaka and walked back to Monastiraki to seek out an Art Gallery and cafe recommendation in the LP Guide. We’d tried to find it the day before but had been quite tired and missed the tiny street in the flea market area that ‘The Art Foundation’ (TAF) lives on. It’s based in a barely renovated complex of 1870s brick buildings. The covered central courtyard holds a very welcoming cafe/bar, and the surrounding upstairs rooms host modern art exhibitions. The exhibition showing (called ‘Minor Inconveniences’) wasn’t really my thing, but I liked the concept of this space. I was sad that the gift shop wasn’t yet operational, as it looked like the sort of place I love to shop at.
The crowd at TAF
was very mixed and laid back, the drinks were reasonably priced and most importantly the bathrooms were very clean! Andrew ordered an iced coffee and I had an iced peach tea while we rested our feet from a long day. I loved everything about this beautiful space, and could have spent many hours in that courtyard, but the wind was picking up and we had to get back to the hotel before the rain started.
We reached the hotel just before the predicted thunderstorm hit around 4pm. We had walked a marathon six and a half hours by this point (apart from sitting down for lunch and drinks). While resting our weary feet in our room, we noticed that the thunderstorm had reduced to a series of fleeting rain showers… so we decided to brave it and go up to the hotel rooftop. We happily collapsed into chairs at our favourite table with our favourite view of the Parthenon! 😊
So there we were… sipping our drinks in the lovely cool evening air, writing our travel notes and intermittently chatting to each other about the day. It started to drizzle lightly, and while we were discussing whether to
move undercover or not, a chatty Australian guy decided to join our conversation. He was nice enough I suppose, but it was clear his family had had enough of him, and he’d decided we were the perfect people to talk at! And I mean talk AT. I blame Andrew for attracting these sorts of nutters to us… it never happens when I’m on my own. 😄
We both politely listened to his various monotonous monologues for nearly an hour, and thankfully the rain started again! We made our excuses and exited very swiftly. We love talking with fellow travellers, but certainly not when they aren’t interested in having a two-way exchange of ideas. I was slightly cranky that we had lost an hour of writing, but more that he’d driven us away from our lovely rooftop spot. Andrew was even more cranky because the laptop hadn’t saved any of what he’d written before old mate interrupted us.
We decided we weren’t hungry enough for a meal out, so we visited the supermarket which was very conveniently located across the road. I was amazed that it was already our second day/third night in Athens and we were only just
visiting the supermarket (we could buy reasonably priced water at our hotel, so it hadn’t been a priority). We enjoyed checking out all the new and wonderful (to us) items on the shelves, and stocked up on snacks and drinks.
We considered going up to the rooftop again, but decided to play it safe and stay on our balcony that night… we wouldn’t be able to escape if old mate Bill was still up there prowling around for more victims! It turned out to be a beautiful warm night, with a bright crescent moon. The yoghurt and herb flavoured potato chips (crisps) tasted similar to sour cream and chives flavour and were great, but the
tiropita (feta phyllo pie) from the deli was only average.
As I sipped on my copious cups of tea and munched on snacks, I reflected on how much we’ve enjoyed doing the LP Guide walking tours in various cities over the years. And today had been no different. It had been an amazing day getting lost in the narrow winding alleys of the old neighbourhoods, finding lovely places to eat and drink, and taking in the very wide variety of architecture Athens has
to offer… from contemporary buildings, to ancient temple ruins, to beautifully restored neoclassical buildings, to tiny subterranean orthodox churches in the shadow of neglected 1960s structures.
We’d had two very full but very enlightening and happy days in Athens; and I’m looking forward to a slower/calmer schedule on our last full day in the city (before we start travelling around Greece).
See you around Athens!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.15s; Tpl: 0.025s; cc: 15; qc: 38; dbt: 0.0505s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
Chris L.
non-member comment
Precision
I remember seeing these guards and I agree it is a worthy spectacle. I believe they concealed blades in those shoes during battle.