It Is All About the Acropolis

I am not really looking forward to the Athens leg of the Grand tour but as a gateway to the mediterranean which I am really desiring, a stop in the Greek capital is necessary.  I have been to Athens before. Admittedly, it was twenty-five years ago but I have never forgotten that it was the only place in all my travelling, in which I encountered bed bugs. My lasting memory of it, however, is of how utterly chaotic it was.

The serenity of our flight from Budapest and arrival in Athens belies this memory. We are met at the airport as per arrangements made for our entire time in Greece by our travel agent who listened closely to my winging about negotiating with Greek taxi drivers and has organised prepayment for everything which may require even the slightest debate. I am extraordinarily grateful that she did this as Athens, true to my memory of it, is chaotic. Our hotel is in the centre of the busy tourist district and candidates for the upcoming European elections are holding rallies in the city squares surrounding it. Getting there will require some ingenuity.   

Our driver on the journey to our hotel is charming, actively googling the tablet he has on his dashboard to show us must see sights in his city as he drives us at significant speed down busy roads. “Of course,” is his almost formal and most favoured response to questions (which we stop asking in case he has to seek the answer) and we find that this phrase is in common use by many hospitality and retail staff. Always sounding sincere and genuine. It is a lovely phrase.

It is not a fabulous hotel, but it is practical, and clean. The bonus (of course) is that it is perfectly positioned. Entering my room I am greeted by this view. Out my bedroom window! It is a pinch me moment.  

Outside the hotel, the streets are teeming with tourists and stall holders and café spruikers but inside, there is a lovely roof garden which catches the remnants of the evening breeze and affords unimpeded views across the city. From up here, Athens is beautiful.

Having stayed awake half the night staring at the Temple of Athena up there on its hill and marveling that there was a time when gods and goddesses were the dominant forces in the lives of people, the descent into the streets of tourist tat and cafes is daunting. The city is not yet busy, but the heat and humidity are building and there are few trees for shade and respite. The hop on, hop off bus, with air conditioning comes into its own on days like these and soon I am traversing the city sights. There are ruins aplenty still standing amid modern buildings and over the next few days it is apparent that Athens is built on the footings of so many civilisations' going back eons. (Just to dismiss its vast history in a few words) Marble columns, friezes and countless other structures litter the city, and often, looking down, it is possible to see archaeological excavations covered by heavy Perspex, almost hidden from the incessant street traffic which crosses it.  

The museum of the Acropolis, modern and beautifully curated, affords glimpses of the treasures that lie under and within Athens. Retrieved from the Acropolis site during numerous restorations, these lovely objects speak of other lives lived on it, and at its base. The museum also has a presentation which speaks scathingly of the looting and pillaging, most notably of the Elgin Marbles, that occurred primarily by British aristocrats. There is no equivocation. They want their stuff back.  

Wandering back through the city the evening is drawing in and the fairy lights come out in the street markets and cafes. There is some magic in the disguised day to day of the inner city. The heat does not break however and the evening builds with cloying humidity. People sit on ancient structures and eat ice cream. I go to bed and look at the goddess house. It doesn`t get old.  

A visit to the Acropolis feels almost mandatory and almost mad if you are an older person with a dodgy leg, deciding to climb multiple stairs and walk slippery marble pavers to reach it. On a really hot day which only gets hotter as the summit gets closer and the light reflects off the marble structures. Our allotted time to access the site is in the early evening and for this I am truly grateful. The next day the site management advise that the Acropolis site will close between the hours of noon and five pm due to heightened temperatures. I am glad I get to see it before these measures are implemented because to be where the goddess Athena was worshipped and standing near structures like this built to honour her, feels like a sliding door moment. Really? Yes really! Just look around.

Dinner is at one of the numerous cafés which line the road down from the site. It looks out over a neglected paddock littered with marble remnants and is crossed by a train line along which numerous graffiti covered local trains run.  The area is also populated by Greek cats, scrappy, thin creatures who occasionally come close in the hope of being fed but spend most of their time fighting and fornicating and staying alert to threat. There are many cats like these haunting the shopping precincts in Athens and they all, perhaps courtesy of a common Abyssinian ancestor, have lovely, mascara lined, eyes. 

A driver transports us across the city to the port where we will catch a ferry to Paros. Pre-paid, no negotiation, fabulous. The city changes little as we pass through the suburbs. Generally low rise, somewhat insubstantial structures that from both the stored and discarded rubbish which surrounds them and the flowerpots which point to domesticity, look purposeful. To what end, is, of course, all Greek to me. (I couldn`t resist)

Eventually we are deposited in front of an enormous ferry. I had imagined something slightly smaller and more picturesque than the behemoth that confronts me. "This is your boat" says the driver. Enjoy Paros.