Athens!

We finally left Agios Nicholaos and began our drive back to the ferry. It always seems longer going somewhere than it does coming back. It was a pretty uneventful drive and we got to the port 2 hours before the ferry was due to leave. We were just driving around in circles to let Basil have a little sleep in the air-conditioning, when we realized another boat then in the harbor and half loaded up was also going to Rafina. I dumped the baggage and people at the harbor, drove a half block to the ticket office and grabbed our ferry tickets, ran into the car rental place and madly told the lady the car was parked outside, and ran (well, quickly hobbled) over to the ferry, almost the last one on!!

2 hours later, we were pulling into Rafina again, not quite knowing how to get into Athens, hoping that our hotel would still have our reservation. Thankfully, the public bus for Athens was right in front of us as we walked off the dock. It is certainly easier having another adult to help haul Basil and luggage, but it’s no piece of cake still!

We boarded the bus and told the ticket guy that we needed to get to Monastiraki, where the hotel was. At a certain point, the bus pulled over to the side and he told us this was our stop. He didn’t speak much English, and we couldn’t really ask him much else. Like usual, I hoped and prayed that things would be obvious. On this occasion, they were not!...

Here we were, a motley crew with all our baggage – the tally now swelling to 3 roller bags, 1 heavy backpack, 2 medium backpacks, 2 light backpacks, and the ever-present miscellaneous plastic bag of food odds and ends along with Basil’s plastic watering can and shovel for the beach, AND the stroller and 2 smaller shoulder bags with our 3 money-belts underneath our clothing. Now here we were, standing befuddled on a very busy 4-lane street with traffic whizzing by on both sides (we were on a large island with a bus stop). There was no cross-walk in sight. A large building that I figured must be the metro was across the street, but there was really NO WAY we could have gotten across there.

I know they can’t help it; it’s natural. But then came the usual barrage: “What do we do now?” “Where do we go?” “Where ARE we??” And my usual response: “Well, give me a minute. I’ve never been here before, either!” I tried to get my bearings to see what we should do. Around us, obviously down-and-outers, some street people. A lot of graffiti. No telephones. I go over to look at the “map” which is totally washed out and unreadable, covered with graffiti. We’re obviously at a bus stop, anyway, but the guy had said we needed to take the metro (underground train).

I looked at the guy sitting on the bench near us a couple of times. There's is no way that guy is speaking English. Her either, nor him over there. I make an unlikely stab, only to realize that I was absolutely right. These people don’t even look quite coherent enough to give me reliable directions in Greek, either.

Happily, a briskly walking woman approaches down the concrete island, dressed in a business suit. I approach her and she gives me just enough information in Greek: we have to take the nearby ELEVATOR !!? down a floor to get under the street and into the metro station. Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that? I guess I just didn’t really notice the huge glass box sitting there in the middle of our island.

Even more happily, as we boarded the elevator – all of us and all our luggage, 2 fat happy Greek women also squeezed on with us, and they were tickled to speak to us in English. They told us exactly what to do and which stop to get off at. After purchasing our CHEAP tickets (3.5E for all of us!) and getting ourselves down the escalator at the correct platform, we were hit with another small detail: Which side of the platform do we use? The train going one way, or the opposite way? Like the flash of an angel’s wing, one of the ladies swooped down on us as a train came up and showed us which side we wanted.

We opted to wait for the next car, as there was no way we would have fit on that one. Happily, the next one was quite empty and we got on and off without incident. We were pointed in the proper direction towards our hotel, and a quick 3 block walk brought us to Hotel Tempi. We could not have asked for a better location. I think all our mouths dropped open at the corner of Aiolou and Ermou. We looked one way and saw our hotel 1.5 block down and looked the other way to see the illuminated Acropolis high above us with the back of the Erecthion shining like a pearl. We could see this sight looking out the window of our hotel. The rooms were small, pretty old, and Spartan, but adequate. 64E per night in that part of town was a very good deal and we were happy with it. Christopher, Basil and I had one room and Grandma and Emma the other. Directly across the street was a large church, with another older one visible a few blocks down. It seems like in downtown Athens there is at least one church for every block or two.

Christopher, not feeling so well during our intensive travel day, had a shower and went promptly to bed. The rest of us went to the nearest restaurant and had a quite nice dinner. As we were finishing Christopher came down and we all walked down the street and found some soft ice cream. I also got some loukamides for breakfast the next morning. Those are little fried doughnuts covered with a honey syrup. We all slept well that night.

Next morning, despite our good intentions, we didn’t find ourselves trudging up the Acropolis proper until almost noon. We’d walked the several blocks up to the base and then another few around it to the main entrance where we could leave the obsolete stroller. Right there was also the Aeroepagus, where St. Paul preached the sermon to the “Unknown God”. Having been driving out of Thessalonica for his radical religious ideas and having passed through Berea, Paul arrived in Athens, dismayed at the sight of the many, many pagan temples practicing polytheism. His story of the life, miracles, teachings, and resurrection of Christ at the time were absolutely unknown, and sometimes met with fear and even violence and other times conversion and faith. Here in Athens, he was impressed by the Greeks’ temple built to the “Unknown God” and used this as a focal point for a sermon memorialized in the pages of the Bible and the books of Acts.

It was from this very large outcropping of rock below the Acropolis that Paul was invited by the religious leaders of the day to address the senate and the common people with an explanation of this new “philosophy” he was bringing into town. Emma scampered up the stone steps hewn out of the side of the rock, about 2 stories high, like an antelope. Christopher followed close behind. I took them one at a time, heeding the sign that said “Careful: slippery”. And were they ever! 2,000 years of people walking up and down had worn the uneven surfaces to a slick marble-like texture. It was incredible, walking those stairs. The top was very uneven solid stone, offering an incredible view of Athens spread out below. I didn’t venture out much, for fear of re-injuring my leg and ankle, but Christopher and Emma walked all around. I found the modern staircase down one side and relieved Grandma from Basil-duty to climb up those instead.

After this, we made our way up the Acropolis. I won’t go into detail about it, as it can be so easily researched. It was hot. We were tired. After a cursory walk through, the kids, Grandma and I sought out the postage-stamp sized spot of shade near a running spring and planted ourselves there, letting Christopher walk around and muse in the blazing sun to his heart’s content. We dismounted it and walked around the other side, in search of the Byzantine Museum, stopping for some lunch and respite.

The museum, which we finally reached by the Metro, was well worth seeing, especially the huge very famous St. Michael icon. We went home after this, switching trains on the Metro like old pros. Everyone else went for ice cream and a nap. I wanted very much to see a little old church sunk into the pavement so I trotted off in that direction, relishing a few moments all to myself.

I found the Kapnikarea church closed, unfortunately, but stopping into a shop for liturgical items, I had a very nice talk with the proprietor, who suggested a large church called St. Irene’s for the best Byzantine chant in this area, and he also gave me the times for services in the little church.

We ended up going to Vespers at another church about 2 blocks down from us. It was quiet. A huge church, mostly baroque in style. There weren’t a lot of people there, and it was extremely hot and stuffy, much moreso than outside at that hour. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the respite from our busy day and the noise and bustle of the city. Basil and I enjoyed venerated 2 lovely gold and silver icons of the Virgin over and over again.

We ate on the early side at about 7PM, choosing a restaurant from an entire square block plus a whole additional side street full of restaurants that all served the same thing for about the same price. We were happy with our meal, however. I got some moussaka, which I have been wanting and have been unable to find. It is made in a casserole like lasagna with a tomato-meat sauce layered with fried eggplant (lots of olive oil!) and a creamy white sauce spread over the top before being baked. It was fabulous. Christopher had lamb cooked with lemon, Grandma had a gyro, and Emma had some roasted chicken and potatoes. We had too much food, which has been a bit of an issue, although it gave us leftovers to have after Liturgy the next day.

We got the kids in bed and were having quite a time trying to decide what to do next. We had discussed a lot of options with Fr. Nicholas before leaving home, but nothing had been finalized before I left, and we were feeling the effects of “limboland” and realized we had to make some decisions. Much as we were enjoying Athens, it was just too expensive and too difficult to get information in a timely manner to help us make good decisions. Getting around town, and getting in to see things, and knowing what things to see, was all a little overwhelming at this point. Everyone was looking to me, more or less, for the plan. Instead of doing my own research for Athens, I had been relying on Fr. Nicholas being there with our local friends, and figured we would simply tag along on their plans. So at this point, Christopher and I felt it would be the way of least resistance to cut our losses (and regrets) and head out of town. Where to go, then? And how to get there?

After the kids were in bed, he and I headed to the internet café at 11PM to do some research and try to get transportation information. We were able to get some, and then we just got too tired to do much more, and decided to sleep on it. On our walk back 7 blocks or so, he wanted to show me the Metropolis church and St. Philotheu, which he had discovered on his walk the previous night while saying his prayers. We also discovered whole rows of shops obviously selling liturgical items in the daylight. – all closed up at midnight, of course. It was a kind of magical evening, just the two of us walking through the dark, cobbled streets, with quite a few people quietly going about their dinners and conversation, the two of us searching for these spiritual pearls amidst the streets of Athens, listening for the footsteps of ancient forefather and mothers.

In some ways, this may have been our truest experience of the town, even more lasting than the Acropolis and the kind of energy and nightlife that rivals New York.