Athens was a complete shock. Against all odds and defying all logic, it is an incredible cool city. This should really be impossible. During the day wave after wave of the cruise shop crowd overrun the temple of Athena and other must see attractions. At night every nook and cranny of the city is swarming with tourists from around Europe and the world, who like myself, use Athens as a base to island hop and escape the summer heat. It should consist only of shops that all sell the same over priced, mass produced trinkets to tourist. There should be the European version of Señor Frogs on every corner.
And yet, it refuses stubbornly to change and pander to tourists. It somehow manages to remain charming, unique, and well, cool. The night life caters to all kinds. There are world class restaurants, and world renown bars. One I can personally recommend is The Clumsies, recognized in The World’s 50 Best Bars multiple times. The cocktails are delicious and unique, obviously. But a large part of the appeal also stems from the versatile atmosphere. An upscaleish space that is relaxed and inviting, you will feel as comfortable coming here for a date night as you will feel coming in a group, or stopping in for a drink if you are traveling alone. Artists live and work here. It’s a place I would come back to, could see myself living.
If you go to Athens, and do nothing else, you must go to the Temple of Athena Nike. I am not a morning person, but I still highly recommend going when the grounds open, at 8 am. You will beat the heat (at least in summer) and the crowds that come in from the cruise ships. You can buy timed tickets in person at the acropolis or online. A self guided tour costs €13, or you can hire a guide for around €45. We opted for a guided tour, which covered not only the history of this ancient historic site but even more importantly all the best angles for photos. After our photo session history lesson, we went for a coffee at the museum which sits at the base of the acropolis.
I have always highly correlated Greece and Italy together in my mind. Similar gods, similar ancient empires. I always learned about them as a pair in history class. One thing I noticed right away is that Greece actually has much more in common with Turkey, at least when it comes to food. The anise infused liquor called ouzo in Greece is known as raki in Turkey. Walking through cities in both places, I saw street vendors with flat top grills, roasting chestnuts on one side and ears of corn on the other. It’s such a specific combination, and one I haven’t seen anywhere else. Turkish coffee and Greek coffee are prepared the same way. An incredibly strong brew served in small cups with the coffee grounds still in the bottom.
Other than good coffee, you will find precious little of value in this museum. Like Egypt and so many other countries around the world, most of the artifacts from the temple site can be found in the British Museum in London. Originally, countries like Greece were told their artifacts “couldn’t” be returned until they had facilities able to properly house them. The Acropolis Museum that sits at the base of the temple was first opened to the public in June 2009. And there is has stayed, a state of the art building with plenty of space, as Britain steadfastly refuses to answer the many requests Greece has sent for the return of their artifacts.
I joined a bike tour tour solo for one afternoon of sightseeing. Our first stop was a view of the acropolis itself. We peddled through the neighborhoods of Thission and Plaka. We visited the royal palace to witness the slow, strange dance of the palace guards with their special uniforms. Our second to last stop was the first ever modern Olympic stadium, built in 1896 at the site of the stadium used for the Panathenaic Games. We ended with a sunset view of Hadrian’s Arch.
The next day, we took a flight to Santorini first thing in the morning. We dropped our stuff at our hotel on the northern end of the island, one of many on the steep cliffside with a view of the famous sunset. No time to lose, we jumped in a cab to Mera Beach on the opposite end of the island. We posted up under a palapa for a few hours and admired the fine black sand. It was a short walk to a nearby restaurant for some fish and wine. We commingled peacefully, for the most part, with the cats that lounged about waiting for scraps.
The island was sweaty, hot, and crowded. We walked from our hotel to the main part of town, competing for space on the narrow pedestrian paths. I wanted to squeeze in another food tour, but my husband wanted a photo shoot. So the next morning I dawned a purple flowing dress. We started at 9 am but it was already incredibly hot. The photographer snapped picturesque shots in the rare moments free from other tourist walking the same path. I sweated and posed and worried about the potential dry cleaning bill if we stayed out much longer.
I insisted on taking a ferry to navigate to our next destination, Mikos. There was this romantic idea in my head of what being on a ferry was like. It came mostly from my time living in Seattle and going on weekend trips to the little islands that dot the Puget Sound. But this experience was not that, like at all. We took a taxi that rushed us down the steep, winding road to the port. The ferry was late and the port over crowded, we sweated as we sat outside with our bags on the pavement, squeezing in with other tourist for the meager shade.
When our ship arrived we elbowed our way inside as everyone rushed to get aboard. We placed our bags on racks in the cargo hold and waiting in a long line for everyone to crowd into the air conditioned upstairs. We were some of the last in line as the bay door closed, leaving us in semi-darkness. The temperature increased with every minute inside the now sealed belly of the ship. People crowded and jostled to get out. It was, in short, a total nightmare. It could not have been further removed from the romantic, eco friendly voyage I had pictured. But once we were topside it was a pleasant enough way to spend a few hours.
Milos was a totally different experience from Santorini. Still crowded, but not oppressively so. The island is small but spread out. We rented an ATV to navigate around, which seemed like the best option with our packs but still felt like too large of a vehicle for some of the narrow streets we had to navigate. We were lucky to get one, as most places were already sold out. Our fist stop was the famous restaurant Medusa, which you may recognize from photos of octopus drying in the sun. I felt my post My Octopus Teacher viewing guilt and ate it anyway.
We took a full day boat tour, as many of the beaches on the island are only accessible this way. The water was so clear and so blue in some of the places where we stopped to swim that it was hard to believe it was real. We shared a mostly open deck sail boat with a family, an Italian couple, and a pair of friends from Australia as I tried to tan but not burn while my husband just sought out the shade.
On the morning of our last day on the island, we met an unexpected obstacle as we were trying to leave. The front door of the house we had rented wouldn’t open. I still don’t know what the hell actually prevented us from leaving that day. It could have been a problem with the key, or the lock, or the door frame itself. We both tried multiple times. But the key that had worked the night before without a whisper of complaint would not turn in the lock.
Fortunately, there was a window large enough to pass through that would give us access to the street. The Unfortunate part is that we had picked this place as a bit of a splurge. We paid a premium because it featured a small private pool. And where was this pool located? You might be wondering. It was right there, directly underneath the window turned emergency exit.
We would have to balance ourselves and our packs on the ledge without falling in. There was some debate about wether we should wait for rescue. While this may seem like the most rational course of action, it would also mean losing our last morning on the island trapped in the house. We made up our minds to escape through the window. I took both of my husbands hands in mine and said a prayer that was something to the affect of: Dear gods of bullshit side quests and unexpected obstacles, of simple things becoming incredibly difficult for no reason, please don’t let us and all of our stuff fall into this fucking pool today.
I removed the screen and carefully set the knickknacks crowding the window sill onto the floor. He went first and I carefully passed him all of our things. Then I went, closing the window behind me. And this time, for once in my life, things went according to plan. We managed to make it safely and dryly, without mishap.
The rest of the day we spent tooling around. We were searching for the best bakery to try the local delicacy “watermelon pie.” We visited the other worldly landscape that is Sarakinko Beach, swimming and jumping from the white cliffs. The woman we rented the ATV from met us at the airport for our 20 minute flight back to Athens. I have been to small airports before, but Milos may be the smallest. We walked onto the runway to board out flight. The next day we would leave Athens for Cappadocia, the most unique part of our trip.
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