Athens Reimagined [Part 1]

When I first stepped into Athens in 2003 I was already on my way somewhere else - the islands. My first impression of the capital was an uncomfortable level of air pollution, and the suburb in which my hotel was located struck me as gritty and unloved. By the time I saw homophobic graffiti scrawled on a nearby wall, I was happy to leave.

Fast forward to 2022, and a few things saw me give the Greek city a second chance. Firstly, I knew that I would find an abundance of historic sights, good food, and a certain amount of familiarity in the locals (Australia has plenty of Greek immigrants, and Bulgaria is just to the north). Secondly, Scoot Airlines made it one of its two European entry-points from their Singaporean hub, along with Berlin. I'd already experienced two weeks of slow travel in the German capital, and while it was a fine place, I was ready for something new. Furthermore, Athens being tucked into the corner of Europe closest to Australia would make my flight shorter, thereby decreasing my carbon footprint (and increasing my travel comfort). 

The first thing that really struck me about Athens this time around was the friendliness of the staff in the Ibis hotel I was staying. One of them noticed my exhaustion and jetlag and decided to treat me to the Earl Grey tea I was interested in. I learned quickly that Greek hospitality was in a category of its own, perhaps comparable with Thai. 

Awaking to my second day of Athens, I found out from the reception that all public transport workers were striking for the day, and decided to walk to my destination, the National Archeological Museum. This turned out to be a fascinating journey, taking me from a commonplace suburban road to a hip neighbourhood of shops and cafes perched upon on a hill, upwards further through an oval park which housed a historic ruin, and onto a glitzy thoroughfare with tall buildings and an urban buzz. The sleek, shiny surroundings (think shops with floor-to-ceiling glass edifices) eventually culminated in a vivacious place called Syntagma Square, where many high-profile businesses, government agencies, shops, cafes and restaurants lived, and my museum made an appearance shortly after that. 

I stopped every so often to ask for directions, and most of the locals took their time in making sure I understood their advice. Observing images of the Greek gods incorporated into ads for everything from healthcare to coffee had me reaching for my camera. It was while pausing to hydrate in a chic emerald-and-black cafe that I was waited on by a fluorescent-haired woman who pointed out that there were in fact two archeological museums in the area. I asked her to direct me to the biggest of the two, but she seemed unsure as to how I could proceed. 

Back on my feet, a food vendor who looked in his fifties beamed at my inquisitive gaze, and a convenience store owner smiled as he helped me navigate Google Maps. Stylishly dressed women with dye jobs floated around on the pock-marked pavement. They carried their lips in a way that suggested resignation to sexual objectification. There were signs of other kinds of trouble too: every few hundred metres sat a human in some state of distress, extending a sign or container, waiting for infrequently given donations. My heart went out to a particular woman with a hijab - she and her toddler looked like they had been stuck on the streets for some time. I found a patisserie nearby where I tried a hazelnut torte and broke up my large notes, then gave her 5 euro. 

Thinking about race relations in Greece takes me back to the taxi driver I encountered at the airport. He explained that going to a restaurant or cafe was a social affair - the idea was to make a new friend with the person at the table next to you. That was all very well, but he went on to express prejudice against Chinese people, whom he claimed were too materialistic. I offered an alternate viewpoint which he wasn't sympathetic to, got disappointed, then lost interest in the conversation. But I had already given him the details of my background, so he spent the next ten minutes describing his incredulity over the prices in Bulgaria being a fraction of those in Greece. This racist and ethnocentric welcome to Greece is, sadly, an attitude I consider predictable in Europe. 

Anyway, by the time I made it to the National Archeological Museum I was thanking the striking workers for the chance to watch the neighbourhoods morph into each other. And the attraction itself was an eye-opening experience, with artefacts in all forms, shapes and sizes. My favourite section was the stunningly well-preserved ancient vases. I loved the ones depicting women, animals, fruit and musical instruments in particular. I took photos, then spent a bit of time with each vase that stood out to me, trying to appreciate them from different perspectives and get caught up in their narratives.

Many hours later I started to walk back to the Ibis, but here a problem presented itself: a cool September rain. By the time I decided that I was too soaked not to catch a taxi the remainder of the way, I had met with a throat infection. Still, I was happy at how the day was going, and, as my new taxi driver spoke in soulful, melodic tones to a friend, I learned that the Greek language could be quite beautiful. 

[More on Athens in the next post...]