Greece: 9.9-9.11

9/9

Before getting into the wonders and mystique of Athens, we have to share some of the oddities of European economy airline travel. Firstly: they don’t tell you your gate until 15 minutes before boarding. NBD. Except that, if you’re not waiting with bated breath for the gate number you could very easily miss the 15-minute window that the gate is open—especially at an airport like the Berlin Schönefeld Airport where the gate numbering system has some suspicious holes in it (we never found gates 20-29).

Budget airlines are notorious about strict carry-on and checked baggage size. Now, this is a well-known fact that any traveler with a bit of research under his/her belt will be well aware of; it’s why we packed for these 80 days with less than 15kg (33lbs) in each of our backpacks. One man, however, seemed to believe he was above these rules. After rushing to our gate and making it, we entered the holding room where all passengers who made the small window where the gate is open wait to board the plane. There, we witnessed a man and a flight attendant in a heated debate in German. It became clear that their dispute was about the size of his carry on, which he was determined to not surrender. We’ve never seen anything like it. If we could, we’d tell you more about the exchange, but it was, as we said, in German. We crossed our fingers hoping that we weren’t sitting by this guy on the plane (D, especially, has no patience for people who get what they want by being demeaning, demanding, and rude. what a waste of a life). We weren’t. He was across the aisle from us. (Sidenote: for a budget airline with the most strict checked-luggage restrictions, EasyJet’s plane had huge aisles and comfy seats.) Another flight attendant came onto the plane after everyone had boarded tried to kick him off the plane. As one could imagine, this didn’t go well, and the trouble maker remained on the plane after yelling at a different flight attendant. Everyone was settled, and we were on our way to Greece.

9/10

Between getting into our Airbnb (more like a cross between a hostel and a hotel in this case) around 11pm the night before, struggling to fall asleep, being woken up multiple times in the wee hours by guests who continually confused our room for the bathroom, we still got up early for our single day in Athens. Based on D’s experience in Athens 4 years prior and some handy guides found on the internet, we had it mostly mapped out. Step one: find some food. We hadn’t eaten in ~20 hours by the time we found some sustenance, so to be honest, we probably can’t be good judges as to how good the food was. All we can say is that it filled us up, made us miraculously kinder to one another, and we left with our bodies ready for some ancient sites.

Stop One: The Acropolis. Although we arrived a bit later than intended, we still decided to start with the Acropolis before the midday heat set in. Travel Tip: even though the ticket booth said that only EU student IDs were valid for a discount, D’s student ID from Boston University still got her a half price ticket to the most essential Athens sites. Always bring your student ID. Always ask. After mulling about some of the most ancient, most marvelous ruins atop the acropolis, we descended to a hill where The Apostle Paul is thought to have preached.

After descending to buy some water and sunscreen, we decided to try to find a hill we saw from the Acropolis that had a beautiful structure atop it. Before long we found a cave called “the cave of Socrates” and kept climbing. Much to our relief we climbed the correct hill: The Hill of the Muses. When we got to the top, we were almost completely alone, taking in the view of Athens, and utterly speechless. We descended (again) made our way to the Temple of Zeus. Zeus’ Temple is hardly standing, but it still creates an incredible window into the way that ancient and not-so-ancient people worshiped and lived their lives.

The Arch of Hadrian sits on one side of the Temple of Zeus with a notable, hilarious inscription: “This is the city of Hadrian, and not of Theseus.” This inscription certainly heralds to an older time when communication wasn’t so instant and wide-spread, but we still kept laughing about how juvenile and petty such an inscription sounds in the midst of so much splendor and right in front of a temple dedicated to Zeus.

Having had our fill of Zeus and Hadrian, we went in search of the Olympic Stadium. Upon arrival, we discovered that the olympic stadium was not a site included in the tickets we had already purchased, so we peered into the track and headed back towards the acropolis to find the roman an ancient agoras.

We grabbed a light lunch on our way: yogurt with honey and walnuts for D and a baguette with salami and veggies for Mas. We can confirm a few things for everyone who’s wondering: yes, the Greek yogurt in Greece is MUCH better than in the states, and Oikos*  is selling us lies. Greek yogurt here is light and fluffy—creamy and without a hint of the sliminess we’ve come to know and accept of the yogurt we consume stateside. The Greeks often serve it with preserved black cherries, which we sampled and swooned over. (D stuck with honey and walnuts for her throat.)

Sustenance: check. It was time for the Agoras. We look the hilly/long way, and it was fantastic: small side streets, adorable markets, and picturesque restaurants we had come to associate with the Greek Islands.  After some easy walking and in increase in picture taking we made it to the Agoras. We’ve got to be honest: Roman Agora is cute and included in the tickets we bought at the beginning of the day, but it’s nothing to write home about. The Ancient Agora, on the other hand, is quite splendid. It’s large and full of statues, a Temple to Hephaestus, a beautiful orthodox chapel with paintings and an altar, and a small museum with statues of the Greek gods and many an artifact.

After all these ancient sites (and with an early early alarm time for the next morning) we needed a coffee and a seat. After this break needed to pick up our ferry tickets for the next morning, and so we headed into  Omonoia—the city center with a reputation for pick pocketing. D likes to pride herself on her hard-earned ability to shut down the carefree attitude and keep a careful eye out when necessary, and Mas, well, he’s a tall  (dark and handsome) man, so we fared just fine, but immediately felt the shift into pick-pocketing central.** After collecting the tickets for our early morning ferry we popped back into our Airbnb to collect some data on dinner options before striking.

Boy, did we hit the target. We went to a this little restaurant called ATITAMOS MEZEDOPOLEIO (all caps because it deserves it. and because english translations of greek words are often all caps so we’re going with it.) I’m going to interrupt this dining narration to be transparent about our food philosophy: share everything and go heavy on the appetizers. We’ve been ordering closer to 3 appetizers and 1 entre as of late, and our approach was simpatico! with this restaurant/deli/pure delight.

It took some convincing, but Mas talked D into ordering the marinated anchovies. After snarfing these suckers (they were delicious, D agrees and her mouth is currently watering) the server tried to take the olive oil/fishy plate from us, but instead we asked for bread so we could soak up the last juices and bits; to which the server smiled and said:“just like a Greek.” We swooned.

 We also ordered stuffed olive leaves, some outstanding baked cheese (all of which was mysteriously gone before we remembered to take a picture), and excellently prepared meatballs. We closed the meal with baklava and even D (who is not sold on honey-as-sweetener in desserts) ranted and raved. The baklava had strong accents of a certain spice (cardamon is our best guess) that entirely changed the game. Dessert was sent out with some greek yogurt + apricot—which was our first experience of what seems to be a Greek tradition: give customers some small treat they didn’t order either at the start or the close of the meal. Since then we’ve had pastries, watermelon, cakes, corn-based-lemony-delicious-somethings, and banana breads given to us in addition to the items we’ve ordered at restaurants.  We feel 10/10 about this tradition.

 

We went back towards the ancient city and towards our Airbnb for a shower, some rest,  a few card games, and some work. Mas freelanced and D had a call with Essential Partners and then it was time to hit the hay before a 4:45am wakeup call.

Or so we thought.

Remember the whole our-room-is-by-the-bathroom thing? Not only that, but at first glance our room also looks like the only lodging room on the floor (if you’ve already deduced that it is not the bathroom). So, after a few hours of turning in and out of sleep, we wake up to the sound of three men trying to use their key to get into our room and talking very loudly. D immediately sits up and screams “NOOOOO. STOP.”

They left. She felt powerful. And then we couldn’t really go back to bed before that 4:45am wakeup call. Despite the exhaustion, D “woke” Mas up a few hours later with his birthday card and we scrambled to get ready for Naxos.

*”Oikos” is just Dannon trying to come up with a more authentically Greek name (to sell us lies)

** A note about dangerous cities and travel (from D). I was listening to the longform podcast episode with May Jeong and the interviewer was asking May Jeong to expound on her daring move to Kabul, Afghanistan. She says again and again that Kabul is just a city where people live. Any city is dangerous, and if I may interpret Jeong, I think her point is that we think of foreign cities as dangerous because we are (at least in part) xenophobic. Athens feels and appears to be much cleaner and safer than when I was here 4 years ago, and I even though it’s always important to be careful, I’ve been thinking a lot about Jeong’s words. When things feel “unfamiliar” it too quickly reads as “unsafe” and maybe even “less civilized”—so I’ve been avoiding this progression in my own thought life. Travel can be, if we let it, and if we’re intentional about it, a way to observe ourselves, to reflect back and reconsider; all too easily, it can reinforce our assumptions of others—keeping them in the box we create.