Two and a half thousand years ago, separate gathering points around the Acropolis were set aside for merchants, orators and poets.
The merchants are still here.
Modern day Athens is a sprawling metropolis. Seen from the peak of the Hymettus mountain on the east side, its white and pale yellow buildings fill the valleys as far as the eye can see. With the driest climate of any capital in Europe and the sun high above the horizon the climate feels strangely familiar to us coming from Santa Fe.
Looking at the city from a higher vantage point one immediately notices that almost no building is higher than 4-6 stories. This leaves the Acropolis with a commanding presence over the valley. This is by design. A city ordinance maintaining the status quo has been in effect for decades.
We didn’t know what to make of the city at first — I already described our initial impression here — but after two weeks of struggling to reconcile what we expected with what we found I finally had an epiphany as we rode along the endless shores of the Athens Riviera —
Athens is Europe’s LA.
Few signs of urban planning. Check. 300+ days of sunshine. Check. Sea and beaches. Check.
Seaside restaurant at the bottom of Athens Riviera, 1.5hrs south of city
The analogy even works for many aspects of the city’s geography — surrounded by mountains to the north and east — San Gabriel vs. Parnitha & Hymettus, nearby sea ports — Long Beach vs. Piraeus — and the wealthy southern beachside communities — Newport & Laguna Beach vs. Athens Riviera.
When we first came to Athens Min reported having found an article by an American travel writer who summarized the city as follows: “See Acropolis and Leave”. We liked LA quite a bit when we lived there, but LA isn’t everyone’s cup of tea either.
The similarities don’t quite work for the people, though.
Or maybe Greeks in general — we haven’t been in the country long enough to be able to make a distinction and the city does house 40% of the country’s population — are surprisingly warm in personal interactions. Outside of the Acropolis where the street merchants do what they do everywhere, the people come across as a bit restrained and don’t smile easily, but talk to them for a few minutes and they grow curious.
Unlike the French, who are often offended when addressed in English or the Italians, who just draw a blank or resort to hand gestures, the Greeks have zero qualms about switching to the world’s defacto lingua franca. Initiate a conversation with a Hi or apologize with I’m sorry but I don’t speak Greek when addressed in their mother tongue and they just switch mid-sentence.
Spend some more time with them, as I did in a motorcycle repair shop and they’ll just want to talk. When I rolled my Yamaha in after it overheated coming back from the mountains they even had coffee delivered for me as we sat around chatting. After they spent an hour removing the debris that had my radiator fan stuck and blowing up fuses they didn’t want to charge me a thing. When I protested, the owner simply said — “I don’t need to make more money, I just made a friend”.
Similar thing happened in a specialty motorcycle shop a week later. After a half hour of talking with the owner and about to walk out empty handed she apologized for being hurried off to a meeting, but insisted I come back the following day. “Come for a coffee,” she said. “We’ll chat”.
Even the garage guy. He picked up the expression “All good?” from me and greets me that way every day when I pick up the bike —
“All good?”
“Yes,” I answer smiling. “And you?”
“All good”.
Hard not to laugh, which I do, half of the time.
They come in funny shapes and sizes, they’re a bit reckless and sometimes aggressive on the road, but they look at you and they see a human being.
Wow.
Four days after arriving in Athens we were in for a major treat — Erica and Miguel flew in to help us with all the Aperol Spritz, Ouzo and Falafels the locals had waiting for us at every bar and restaurant we’ve entered.
Don’t know how the Athenians knew where we’d be going, but they were always well prepared.
We’ve checked off quite a few items on the Athens to-do list together including the obligatory visit to the Acropolis.
Acropolis in the background.
Wandering through the Philopappou Hill park.
The park was our favorite thing about the city. Two millennia ago this is where most of Athens actually lived.
They say this land was pretty barren just 50 years ago. Today it’s filled with olive trees and other natural flora native to the region. Cobblestoned boulevards run through the middle, dirt foot trails make it easy to explore the rest.
Petralona, our metro station.
Window shopping in the Plaka neighborhood.
Ever the comedian 🙂
Min lent Miguel her bike and helmet and the boys even went off on a ride. Miguel found the traffic addictive. His words not mine. If I agreed they’d never let me ride again.
A week went by quickly. We missed them the minute they headed for the airport.
Athens’ motorcycle culture is as strong as I’ve seen anywhere. They may not have engineered Ducatis, Aprilias or Guzzis like their neighbors to the west, but they certainly ride them. Well preserved classics are easy to find, too.
I had four of these Yamaha FZXs midweight muscle bikes in the US in the ’90s. State side they were only available in 1986 and 1987. Europe had the forbidden fruit, 50cc larger. Ben has seen me crash at least two. This one is collector quality.
Another classic. Honda XRV750 Africa Twin probably RD07A, circa 1996.
Not all 2-wheelers take themselves seriously.
Off to the gym, leaving our Airbnb.
Outside our favorite gyro take out.