Big cities fascinate me. I like the energy, animation and constant stimulations they offer. Plus, in a globalized world, I find it interesting to find out what makes each metropolis different.
After 2 weeks in the north of Greece, I spent 10 days in Athens to discover its atmosphere and antics sites. I pictured a huge, polluted, dense, chaotic city, and the same time, its Mediterranean charm attracted me. Here are the highlights of my stay in the Greek capital.
Gaining height
The train that left Thessaloniki arrives in Athens in the beginning of the evening. I go and pick my bicycle in a coach dedicated for goods. It reminds me of a cattle car.
The station is small for a city of this size. When I go out, I see buildings that are in better shape than most of the ones in Thessaloniki.
The journey to my Airbnb takes me up a long, sloping straight stretch. In this mountain pass in the middle of the city, I push on my legs and zigzag to reduce my incline. From time to time, a car coming from below passes me. I arrive at the flat sweating, having taken my bike inside. Fortunately, the appartment is on the 1st floor.
In this studio, sitting at the little table nestled between the kitchenette and the bed, the work keeps me busy for most of the next day. Then I walk down the long, sloping street towards the town centre. I like the hills, especially as there are very few of them in Bordeaux.
The protest district of Exarchia appears. It was the scene of clashes between demonstrators and police a few years ago. In the sunshine, I walk along the lively pedestrian streets and notice many living walls. Numerous bookshops and cafés give the place a gentrified feel. On the walls around me, I admire many tags. Many of them bear the black and yellow colours of AEK Athens. I also notice several condemned buildings with boards visible in the windows.
Suddenly, several police officers appear, posted at intersections. They look alert, even though nothing of note seems to be happening around. Next to them is a small square, access to which is blocked by a tall column topped with barbed wire. On Google Maps, the site is described as a ‘counter-culture gathering place’.
A little further on, still in the heart of Exarchia, a shop full of books intrigues me. My curiosity and interest in old books prompted me to push open the door. The space is narrow and shallow. I see a man sitting at a work table in the middle of the room, and another at the back, busy ‘stitching’ a book.
Now I get it. They repair books here. The sitted man speaks a good English, which surprises me given its age. He shows me old collections aligned on a shelf. Then, John (or Yannis) picks a little book from a French author in original version. The name rings a bell but I’ve never read it.
Suddenly, an elegant man in his sixties with a gentle face enters. He’s a friend of the manager. He speaks little English but it’s enough to make conversation. He’s a former university lecturer. He taught philology, ancient Greek, Latin and philosophy. Impressive!
Aristotle (or Aristotelis) – that’s his name – shows me a poster on the front door showing a book, his own. I don’t understand the subject. Then the man takes out a box of cakes he bought for his wife’s birthday and puts it on the table so that everyone can pick some.
Then the 2 Athenians give me advice on the most important places to visit, which I’ve already identified thanks to my guidebook. They don’t seem to think Exarchia is beautiful, which surprises me. Delighted to have spoken with these locals, I continue on my way, without thinking about my destination.
When I arrive at the tourist office at the foot of the Acropolis, I notice that it’s permanently closed. Unbelievable for such a touristy city!
Why not visit the hill since I’m already there? At a ticket office, I buy a €30 combined ticket that gives access to 7 ancient sites. However, I can’t stay too long as I still have work to do today.
The climb begins. As I look up, I realise just how high the hill is. It dominates the city, which makes me want to get to the top. On the way there are fewer tourists than I’d imagined. I find it hard to concentrate when reading the signs explaining the monuments. Let’s enjoy yourself and relax, stop thinking about work and observe the environment.
A huge, sublime amphitheatre comes into view. What an experience it must be to perform here! A sign tells me that Greek playwrights such as Sophocles and Euripides wrote works that were performed here. The sequence of events that have marked the history of the Acropolis is a blur in my mind. However, I understand that most of the monuments date from the ‘century of Pericles’, the 5th BC. I listened to an episode of an history podcast about this period.
As I step through the majestic ‘gate’ of the Acropolis, I can feel a spiritual and calming atmosphere. It’s like being out of time, cut off from the hustle and bustle and modernity of the city. The site’s elevated position has something to do with it. I join a queue of tourists and have to slow my pace. The words in foreign languages spoken by the visitors make me feel like I’m in the Tower of Babel.
The path leads to the Parthenon, whose immense size impresses me. I notice that I’m more relaxed and enjoying the moment, without trying to understand the history of everything around me.
I then walk around the temple and admire the Erechtheion. The explanatory panels tell me that several of the statues of women that support the roof of the building are copies, the originals having been moved because they were weakened, particularly by pollution. It’s hard to believe that they’re not real. I leave the Acropolis at around 5pm and follow the flow of tourists along a path leading to a small hill.
I rest on a rock and admire the city under the setting sun. I’d like to share this moment with other people. This feeling of solitude hadn’t come up on any of my previous solo trips. Plus, I’ve just spent a week in the company of my WWOOFing host and his friends in Chalkidiki.
After a 1-hour walk, I’m back at the flat, where I work until late at night.
From classical Greece to the Roman period
The next morning, after a night of partying, I get up around 9am and sit on a bench in the area around my flat to write. In front of the tagged walls, people are walking with their shopping in hand. And on the ground I see plastic rubbish.
Then, on my bike, I ride down to the Greek agora, a large space that lends itself to a stroll, surrounded by trees and ancient ruins. More than 2,000 years ago, the heart of the city must have been teeming with people, and there must have been a bustle of commerce and art.
The words on the signs remind me of my Ancient Greek lessons at school. Among them, boulê, which refers to the assembly of citizens, and the Panathenaic Way, on which the processions in homage to Athena took place every 4 years. The latter leads all the way to the Acropolis.
Pericles, the builder of democracy
In the 5th century BC, the Athenian statesman Pericles restored or rebuilt many of the buildings on the agora, which had been destroyed in 480 BC during the Persian invasion. These included the Temple of Hephaestus and the Panathenaic Way. The ruler also built the temple complex on the Acropolis. During this period, known as the century of Pericles, the city was at its height. The arts flourished and great importance was attached to freedom and democracy.
To the left of the entrance, a long building, a portico, catches my eye. Its columns are majestic. They create perfectly spaced shadows on the ground. This is Attalus’ stoa.
My eyelids close. After passing the boulê, I reach the temple of Hephaestus, the god of blacksmiths. What a marvel! It’s the best-preserved ancient Greek building I’ve seen so far. I can see several separations of the interior parts from the pathway.
Time to get some rest. Bad surprise, I can’t find my bike. I should have taken a photo where I tied it up. This lack of precaution irritates me. After walking around the Plaka district for 20 minutes, I see it.
Hadrian’s Library is high on my list of places to visit because I love the book Memoirs of Hadrian, by Marguerite Yourcenar. The emperor was, like Pericles before him, a builder. The site, which is one of the 7 visits in the combined ticket, is located right in the centre of the city.
At the entrance, I admire some beautiful Corinthian columns. However, the place has little interest for me and I’m rather disappointed to see that there aren’t many visible remains of the building constructed by the emperor in the 2nd century AD. At the far end of the space stands a high, well-preserved wall, close to where tens of thousands of papyri were stored. I can only imagine the atmosphere of scholarship and silence that must have reigned here 2,000 years ago.
Another site on the combined ticket associated with Hadrian is on my list: the Olympeion. The emperor completed its construction, which began in the 6th century BC, and this shows the interest he had in Greek culture. It’s like Emmanuel Macron finishing a Renaissance monument.
The site is vast and open, but on the edge of an avenue used by many cars. From the path that runs through the middle of the grass, I admire the temple dedicated to Zeus. Its great size and a column that has been lying on the ground since it was knocked down by a storm in the 19th century raise my curiosity.
The Keraemikon is the site included in the combined ticket that attracts me least. The entrance reminds me of a small shady garden. There’s a small reception building and a larger museum building. The direction of the visit takes me away from these buildings and onto a path. To be more precise, there are several paths leading to the area where the trees stand. The area is quite large and a haven of peace. I wander through sections of wall. They date back to the 6th century BC, before the golden age of Athens. The walls protected the city for around 10 km.
The remains of 2 gates can be seen here. It’s always impressive to see such old stones. Grass is growing between the blocks, reminding me of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.
Suddenly, I hear a high-pitched noise coming from a leafy tree. I look up and see a small, bright green shape. It stands out against the intense blue sky in the background. It looks like a parrot, but its small size doesn’t seem to correspond to that species. I hesitate to go and talk to someone guarding the area about this fascinating bird. Again, I want to share my experience. In the end, I’m not going to talk to him, even if it would just be to exchange a few words. Whatever, I’ll carry on discovering this great garden.
Among the many small trees that coexist with the ruins, I notice several with small red or yellow fruits. They’re kurkura, the fruit I picked in quantity during a hike in Sithonia last week. I reach out and put a few in my mouth. I have the sensation of having access to special knowledge that other tourists don’t have: the name of this tree. This was made possible by my WWOOFing experience, during which I met some locals.
Then it’s on to the Kerameikon museum. It explains the city’s different periods. I would have liked to have started my stay in Athens with a visit to this place. The exhibition tells me that the many tombs here were decorated. The explanations are clear and the objects on display remarkable. For example, urns, vases and jewellery accompanied the dead to their graves. Kerameikon is, along with the Acropolis, the site on the combined ticket that I enjoyed the most.
I also make a quick visit to the Lyceum of Artistote. The site, partly covered in grass, has a natural appearance. Only a few of the lower parts of the gymnasium walls remain, behind which the young men practised physical activities.
Why cycling in Athens is unpleasant
Cycling back to my flat, I realise how polluted the city is. I smell exhaust fumes while dodging vehicles. Many places are hostile to cyclists, who are very rare. What’s more, there are hardly any cycle paths. However, riding my bicycle saves me time and gives me flexibility.
One day, I see the long straight stretch of steep road signalling that I’m approaching my flat. 2 cars are behind me as I zigzag up the hill. The occupants must be surprised to see a cyclist here. I turn to get behind one of the many cars parked on the two pavements. The omnipresence of motorised vehicles in the streets reminds me that a local resident had told me that travelling by car was very common. He himself complained about the time spent in traffic jams.
One late afternoon, I’m strolling through Psyri. Looking at the little cafés and trendy shops, the area seems gentrified but it’s still attractive. I notice many graffiti. It’s one of Athens’ charms: street art, often expressing protest, gives the city a soul.
I then walk to the next district, Monastiraki, which is home to a bazaar. It’s a sort of shopping centre with lots of small independent shops. In particular, a second-hand shop reminds me of Au Dénicheur, only bigger. I see helmets from the Second World War.
I decide to go and talk to a man who is tidying up: ‘I inherited this shop from my father. 20% of what we find here is Greek, the rest comes from all over the world’.
I could spend several hours here, but where would I put the objects? Because they’re old, they won’t fit in the decoration of my flat.
On the way to my flat, I notice that I start to memorise the route. I don’t have to hold my phone up all the time to find my way home.
The time I spend in my flat is dedicated to work or meals. These two activities take up large parts of my day. You have to accept that when you decide to combine travelling and working remotely. However, I avoid putting pressure on myself to see lots of sites in Athens. Apart from the places I visit, it’s the encounters and exchanges that make a stay abroad so beautiful.
Discovering the expat life
To change my work environment, I go to a café in the centre of town. It’s a lively place, frequented by many teleworkers. Many of them speak English.
To my left, words in French can be heard. I strike up a conversation with the young man. He has been living in Exarchia for a few months and works remotely for a foreign company. I find this way of life attractive, especially because the country is sunny. He likes it here, despite the unreliability of Greek public services. Moving to Athens would allow me to take advantage of the attractions of a big city, such as its cultural dynamism and opportunities for going out.
A few days later, I meet the Frenchman, Bastien, for a drink in Exarchia. I discover a different side of the district to the one I had seen on my 1st visit. On the sloping streets, I see modern bars with tasteful decorations, meet expatriates and notice very few tags on the walls. It looks like the gentrified district of any other European city. It lacks authenticity.
The Gazi district, with its many bars and clubs, is different. I get the impression that there’s nothing to do there during the day. I like the party atmosphere and I can see that the Greeks are enjoying life, despite the economic difficulties they are going through. Plus, more European than Thessaloniki, I find Athens dynamic and open-minded.
A “Just write” writing meet-up is taking place in Piraeus during my stay. It’s a good opportunity to do something other than visit ancient sites. I hadn’t planned to go to the port of Athens as there wasn’t much to see there, according to my guide. There are about 10 participants, both Greeks and expatriates. I’m the only one who doesn’t live here.
The concept of the ‘Just write’ meeting is that everyone writes, as part of a personal or professional project, for 1 hour. There is no discussion during the writing phase. Without being interrupted, I write half a blog post on the café terrace. What a brilliant concept!
Afterwards, the participants introduce themselves and chat. I take the opportunity to find out more about expatriate life in Athens. They seem delighted to live here. One of them, an American, is a digital nomad and ghostwriter who has decided to settle here on the long term after jumping from one country to the other for many years.
– “Where have you lived?
– The question is: ‘Where haven’t I lived? Bulgaria, Italy, South America…‘ ”
It’s fascinating, but I don’t think it’s for me. It must be difficult to form relationships with people over the long term. On the other hand, my current lifestyle, which allows me to travel 2 or 3 times a year while working, is more enjoyable. In fact, Jake, an American who’s been living here for a few months, says to me at the end of the event: ‘Enjoy your travels bro’.
A hill to breathe
The covered market of Athens is located in the center of town. When I enter the building at around 8am, there are very few customers. The area for meat is separated from the one for fish. Around 10 seafood stalls and dozens of butchers’ stalls occupy the space. How do they differentiate themselves if they sell the same products?
Several merchants are talking to me, in loud voices, to encourage me to buy. I notice that the carcasses of sheep, rabbits and other pigs are displayed on the stands. No attempt is made to show them off. The sheer quantity of meat disgusts me.
After working in the café where the many remote workers are, I eat my snack of raw vegetables and cheese next to the greengrocer’s market. It’s on the other side of the street, opposite the covered market. These stalls are more appetising.
I return to the market on the last day of my stay, in the late morning, to enjoy the lively market atmosphere that I love. Hearing the shouts of the traders from outside, I can tell that the place is busier than last time. Inside, my progress is slow. The fishmongers’ stalls are packed with products that I assume come from the Aegean Sea.
A small bar in the alley linking the two wings of the building welcomes me for lunch. I’m seated between a butcher’s table full of scraps of meat and a man in his sixties eating on the run. The butchers, dressed in blood-stained white, are bustling about. A group of elegant Israeli tourists, eating from plates ordered from the bar where I’m standing, don’t seem to appreciate this dirty, disorganised place. On the contrary, I’m enjoying the moment, watching the owners come and go in a bustling, friendly atmosphere. A plate containing a wide variety of products is placed on the table: mussels, prawns, small sardines or anchovies, stuffed vine leaves, olives, tomatoes and small chillies.
After this delicious meal, I head off to Philopappos Hill, close to the Acropolis. I’ve arranged to meet Yiannis, a Greek I met in Chalkidiki. He grew up in Athens, where he still has a house, but lives in Sithonia. He decided to change his life a few months ago to become a hotel gardener, in order to get closer to nature. Previously, Yiannis was an accountant. His story fascinates me because it shows that you can make this kind of decision even at the age of 50.
I leave my bike in the car park at the entrance to the park. At the end of the path surrounded by small trees and shrubs, at the top, the sublime view of the Acropolis comes into view. I turn around and see nothing but streets, avenues, buildings and cars. It seems as if every square metre of land has been built on, where a few centuries ago there should have been nothing but a typically Mediterranean natural setting. The picture is accompanied by a buzzing sound from below. In the distance, I notice Piraeus and the Aegean Sea. Islands dotted across the blue expanse catch my eye. It makes you want to join them.
I lie down to rest my ankle, sprained 2 weeks ago. Taking care of my health is the most important thing, and this place is ideal for it.
Suddenly, a small tortoise appears before my eyes. 2 tourists are as fascinated as I am. They take a photo of it, probably not used to seeing this animal in their country.
A moment of sharing
Just then, Yiannis arrives. When I tell him about my encounter with the tortoise, he shrugs. He must be used to see some, even in Athens. What’s more, he doesn’t seem to realise how rare it is to see one in France. We walk down the path, back to the concrete and the hustle and bustle.
10 minutes later, we arrive at the Acropolis Museum. It’s a large building with an uncluttered decor. First I walk through the dwellings that were uncovered during the construction of this new museum outside.
Then, inside the building, I noticed models showing what the hill looked like at different periods in history. Then, a staircase leads to a large area displaying ancient collections. The Greek, who is interested in history and the arts, comments on several pieces. I appreciate this, as I’m too tired to concentrate on the written explanations. Even though he has visited the site many times, he looks with interest at what is behind the glass. I can see that he enjoys sharing his knowledge with me.
On the top floor, there is a life-size reconstruction of the Parthenon, showing the original elements that have disappeared. Some of these are currently in the British Museum in London, a bone of contention between the Greeks and the British.
I’m grateful towards Yiannis for accompanying me. Then, we go for a walk after the sunset in the neighbourhood of Anafiótika, nestled against the flanks of the Acropolis. It touches Plaka, but is little touristy. In any case, no one can be found in the steep streets. I admire the small white houses that seem to me typical of the Greek islands, like Santorini. Discovering this architecture in the big capital is a nice surprise. I enjoy the view of the illuminated city below. This is probably the area of Athens that I like the most.
As I leave Yiannis, he tells me that he’s jealous of my freedom. I worked to reach it, exchanging time dedicated to the discovery of the city by hours behind my laptop in the apartment or at the cafe. Moreover, the trip to Greece asked me about organization and financial means.
Leaving Athens gives me a sense of relief, as I leave the cramped and uncomfortable apartment. I won’t miss the long bike rides in the middle of traffic either. However, the atmosphere of freedom and cultural offer fascinate me.
Have you ever been to Athens? What did you think? Share your thoughts in the comment!
