The first time I visited Athens, in 1996, the Parthenon thrilled me, as did the Plaka, the statuary, and the overall vibe. The next time I visited, my enthusiasm had waned. Athens looked dirty, was hotter than hell on a bad day, the sky had a brownish tinge from pollution, and there were too many rude tourists.
I love the Greek islands, Crete in particular, though I’ve visited many others. Athens not so much. This morning, I walked over to the hop-on-hop off bus for another view of the city. The round trip is supposed to take 90 minutes. Thirty minutes in the bus had barely moved, traffic was at a near standstill. The heat was rising quickly, the smell of exhaust was overwhelming, and the graffiti outdid New York City in the 1980s (when it was at its absolute worst). Even in many tony areas graffiti, not street art, covered every reachable surface.
Forty-five into the circuit, I hopped off and went into the national garden. It was a relief to be in a quiet place surrounded by nature. I walked for a while, found shady places to sit, then walked more. After an hour, a full bottle of water and a lot of sweating, I was ready to face the city again.
Another forty-five minutes and the bus had reached the Plaka. I hopped off into a morass of tour groups wending their way through the area’s narrow streets. The Plaka is one of Athen’s oldest and most picturesque neighborhoods, or it would be if the crowds were thinner.
Nestled below the Acropolis, it has been continuously inhabited since antiquity. Once the heart of ancient Athens, the Plaka’s narrow, winding lanes are now lined with a mix of neoclassical architecture, Byzantine churches, and Ottoman-era buildings.
The Plaka is bustling, it’s a place every tourist MUST visit. It’s filled with cafes, tavernas, shops selling everything from antiques to high-end jewelry to tourist tchotchkes, a flea market, and much more. After walking, sitting and drinking iced water (it was over 95 degrees F), I found a taverna for lunch.
It was at the taverna that I remembered another Greek reality. Don’t assume that anything on the menu is actually available. I ordered three standard Greek dishes: a Greek salad, spanakopita (spinach and cheese in phyllo), and horta (a leafy vegetable like spinach, prepared with olive oil, garlic, and lemon). They didn’t have either spanakopita or horta. They also didn’t have tiropita (cheese pie). I gave up and asked what they had. Lunch ended up being Greek salad and an eggplant dish.
In the 1990s and 2000s I visited Greece seven times, staying in the same small village on the island of Crete. I never looked at a menu, the proprietors all knew me and would bring food they knew I liked. But when out of the village I frequently had the experience of the menu and the available food having no connection.
After my late lunch I re-boarded the bus. This short leg to return to the Parthenon stop took almost an hour. Had it not been for the heat I could have walked it faster. Afternoon traffic made the morning’s rush seem quite manageable in comparison.
Tomorrow, I head for the port of Piraeus and my cruise. I won’t be sad to leave Athens behind.