Athens Stories: Day II

The Ignition of… Something

Jason Lucas
Nov 2 · 12 min read

The day started off early for me as I had much contemplating to do.

You’re here, man! The place you’ve been fantasizing and dreaming about for so many years, you are now physically there!

But what now?

The truth is, I had no clue of what I was expecting, because I had no tangible expectations about this journey. I knew I wanted to figure some stuff out. But I was also there to disconnect, enjoy some vacations. I didn’t feel I was in the ‘soul-searching’ vibe I had envisioned. Which was fine, because as much as I had this intention for the specific destination of the trip, the actual trip wasn’t planned with such a purpose in mind.

But I still had to go within.

So, after completing my morning ritual, I’ve proceeded to a cozy writing session on the balcony, which came to be the first part of this tale that you might (or might not) have read, during the introduction of this story.

Balcony View, 20 Kolokinthous, Athens, Greece

So I proceeded, while enjoying the view, along with a sweet combo of coffee and peanut butter flavoured oreo cookies (isnt Greece amazing?), and we then got ready to leave in order to accomplish our second main mission:

Arm our phones with sim cards to replace our pseudo WiFi that wasn’t reliable at all.

I did mention yesterday that we’ve came across a very troubling fact that would affect part of our journey. And this is going to sound way sillier than what I’ve framed it to be.

But it is what it is: Did you know that the sewer systems in Greece cannot take any paper?

Yes, you’ve read that right: we cannot flush paper down the toilet.

And you probably know that since the food is so amazing in Greece, one of the most popular tourist activities is to eat until you’re about to explode?

Well, then you might assume that most mornings, for a tourist, is comprised of some quite explosive sh*ts.

So you can understand why the sewer thing might be a problem, right?

Yeah, no mater how sticky or stinky your explosive morning sh*t might be, when you wipe, you don’t flush, you stick it in the bin.

Anyway. I think that gets the point across without expanding too much on it: It was quite a sh*tty process.

“I guess it’s just something we have to get used to.” But we didn’t.

Regardless, we still had to get ready. And that we did.

Strapped the cameras, triple locked the door (as mentioned yesterday, people are really careful out there), and left on our way towards the metro, destination Syntagma Square.

Station Syntagma, Syntagma, Athina, Greece

Think of it like Athens’ Berri Uqam.

Only, nicer.

Getting out at Syntagma station, we were faced with a few mobile bakeries, lotto-selling dudes (no need for convenience stores out there, they bring it to tha’ streets), and many entertainers of various sorts.

So we were in the heart of downtown Athens, where you’d go for some more conventional shopping, and by that I mean: regular stores, and not the tourist shops we’d visit later in the Plaka neighbourhood.

This part of the area felt more like Old-Port Montreal, just to give a point of reference, even though it cannot really be compared.

It was funny seeing my travel-partner’s grandiose surprise as we passed stores such as Sephora, American Eagle and such, as I felt the need to remind her that despite the fact that we were in a different country, we still were on planet Earth, where international brands exist, well… internationally.

During our shopping session, we’ve had the pleasure to make a second friend, a lovely store owner who sold beautiful artisanal jewelry, where I bought a few bracelets as dear Dafni (which is how I’ve decided to spell her name for the duration of our journey in Greece) got some stylish earrings — that she would enjoy showing off whenever she had the occasion upon seeing me point the camera at her.

Our newest acquaintance, upon selling us the goods, would give us various suggestions to enjoy our stay. He was pretty thrilled to hear me ask my questions in Greek, and I felt pretty stupid when I let — once again — my ego run amok by the fact that yet another local understood my words, instead of actually listening to his response.

So we strolled around and visited some shops, tourist-style, bought some more goodies, and kept exploring on our way to find the Cosmote, which is like Greece’s Videotron or something.

After many, many detours, stops, and additional shop visits (they really were like magnets our tourist selves), we eventually found the place we were looking for… only to be told we needed our passports to activate the sim cards!

My dear travel partner enjoyed telling me she was right again, as I disputed it was better to leave the passports at ‘home’.

So we headed back to our spot, not without stopping at a little coffee place where we got the most revitalizing fruit smoothie we’ve ever had (you will rapidly notice that buying food and drinks was undoubtedly the most popular activity we’ve took part in), which was a great accompaniment to the glorious slice of pizza we got a the Pizza Something Place (yes, that is a fictive name) next door.

Oh, you sweet pesto-mozza’-greatness, Montreal ain’t got nothin’ on you…

Tua Piazza, Athinas 6, Athina 105 51, Greece

Seriously though, Greeks seem to have some serious issues with carbs. But man, are they the bests at it. The rich, crispy dough alone was more enjoyable than most pizzas I’ve ever eaten. And believe me when I say I’ve eaten a lot of pizzas.

Why do I feel like I’ve recently said something similar?

Anyway, after finally acquiring the passports, we hopped back in the metro and headed straight to the store where we managed to get our sims installed once and for all, and finally were able to let our mamas know that we landed alive.

I told my dear mother that I felt a bit bad about not being able to give her any news upon our landing and that I could finally get in touch with her and update her on our trip, to which she responded that “memories are more important than cellphones”, which really hit me…

So our next mission for the day was to do some grocery shopping, over at the notorious Athens Central Market.

The idea, upon planning the trip and budgeting for the week, was that we would aim to try one new restaurant a day (can you imagine the delusion?), and cook the rest of our meals after proceeding to said grocery shopping.

I am not ashamed to say that this mission was an utter FAILURE.

As much as I can appreciate, well, mostly anything, this was actually a hard one to appreciate.

As a pesce/vege-tarian, the many, many cut heads surrounding us couldn’t get my appetite rolling, for some reason. Granted, some fish could have had a different effect, but the overall ambiance, smell, set-up and giant beheaded Sharks just didn’t cut it for me.

Athens Central Market, Athinas, Athina 105 51, Greece

It was indeed any carnivores dream, however. More for y’all I guess!

Next stop in our journey was the Monastiraki area. Such a cool place to be in. The actual station of Monastiraki was quite the chilling spot, actually.

THIS is really where you’d see a lot of tourists gather, because it was where you would enter the realm of the notorious flea-markets, where many funny and interesting things were encountered. And we’ve probably spent more time there during our whole stay than anywhere else, for some reason. No matter where we would go, we’d always end up around just there.

But our current goal was to reach the Akropoli area.

Which took a while, considering the magnetic power the flea-markets had over us.

So after dispelling ourselves from the abundant shops — in this luxury side of the neighborhood, the wonderful, mesmerizing and aesthetic streets of Plaka, where we would also spend an unreasonable amount of time- we’ve stopped at yet another restaurant to gather some energy.

And yes, we decided to be original, so we got some pizza and pasta.

Not even sorry. Best damned pizza I had since… the morning.

Vyzantino Taverna, Kidathineon 18, Athina 105 58, Greece

This restaurant was insane. And the waiters knew.

They knew how good it was, and they were confident about it.

- “Come, come eat! You don’t like it, you don’t pay, I promise! And I guarantee you pay!”

- “Tόte, poly kala (very well, then)! Let’s see what you got.”

And what they got was pretty solid. Quite the notorious menu. Food smelled and looked incredible, and was ridiculously low-priced.

They had a friggin’ happy hour going from 3PM to 10PM, during which the wine was €1,50…

So you’d assume we’d go bonkers on that, right?

Well you’d be wrong.

For today, at least… We actually wanted to walk straight if we were to climb the Akropoli area successfully.

What they had was also a pretty weird waiter, who definitely could use taking some notes from his colleague. The guy would pretty much try and force-sit most people passing, faking an obvious unauthentic smile, and turn around frowning upon failing miserably.

Gotta give it to him though, the guy didn’t give up. He would hit up every single pedestrian. He’d go as far as dropping some borderline-racist-marketing to a group of Asian folks walking by, waving his hands in the air yelling “NIHAAWW!!” repeatedly.

I was as surprised as him when that failed. But he sure didn’t laugh as hard as we did.

Little did he know, this very moment would later become the best running gag of our entire trip.

“Signomi, sir, this might not be the best marketing strategy.”, I thought. But I kept that thought to myself.

So after getting our energy back, we finally made it to the Akropoli area, but didn’t go up to the Parthenon. We decided it would be a mission for later, as it was getting late and we still wanted to explore a bit before the day ended.

And the exploration we were setting out on was well worth it: there’s actually a sort-of hidden neighbourhood up in the Akropoli area, right under the Parthenon, which is as strange as it is enchanting, and quite maze-ish in its nature.

I wonder how people who live there feel about tourists visiting, though.

Because they probably get that a lot, and it really seems like that would kill their privacy. I mean, I was literally one meter away from someone’s kitchen, and with their window open, we could literally peak into their private lives (which we didn’t, but still…)

So, in order to not be a part of such a possible invasion of their privacy, we’ve… completely disregarded that fact and kept taking pictures.

Anafiotika, Athens, Greece

No ragrets.

We continued our path, discovering hidden gems there and there, clicking compulsively on our camera shutter, and decided to stay in the Akropoli area, even though we had abandoned the idea to climb the Parthenon for the day.

Upon pursuing our exploration, we’ve met with many wonderful discoveries and enjoyed the colourful sky, converting itself from bright blue to soft purple as the sun was setting. It had such a different, but mesmerizing vibe, and it was hard to take our eyes off of it.

We eventually landed onto the peak spot of the Monastiraki Square (felt like being on top of better-Westmount), and there, there it was…

I felt like I was on top of the world.

I can’t even begin to describe the feeling you get from staring at the great capital of Greece unfolding in front of your eyes from this vantage point, going on for miles and miles, in the middle of the night, filled with the city lights on one side, and on the other side — oh my Zeus…

The lit Parthenon, showcasing the great architectural prowess of the Greek culture, crowned by the majestic, gleaming moon, casting it’s shine upon it, all standing in front of me in all its prestige.

View of the Parthenon from the Acropolis Hill

It was incredible. Indescribable. No word could paint this picture, no camera could capture this moment, oh no, no frame could do it justice.

And then, I heard it. I heard the call.

I wouldn’t know for another two days what the call was, or meant, but I knew I heard it.

I could go on for a few thousand words about the amazement I felt while on top of this hill. And none of those would be an accurate depiction of the feeling I had. My eyes couldn’t even process the beauty I was facing. Maybe I had some bias due to my unexplainable interest in the country, the culture, and the history of this place, but every ounce of my being felt something, something very particular, something special, something new, something I simply can’t explain by the use of mere words.

But I knew I wanted to hang on to this feeling, hang on tight, and never let it go.

View of Athens, from the Acropolis Hill

But we eventually had to go.

It was getting late, and we were really trying to not sleep at unreasonable hours in order to avoid either waking up tired, or waking up late, which, knowing us, would probably have been the latter (disclaimer: we still did, and it was the latter).

So after some admiration, it was time to head back home. Still eager to explore the city, we’ve took a different road for our return, and detoured through the marvelous but kinda sketchy streets of Psyri, where we just HAD to taste the ice cream.

Those guys know how to grab a tourist’s attention, man.

We just couldn’t resist.

I definitely regretted it after — especially if you think about the fact that we can’t flush our paper :) — but it was still worth it.

I also learned to never look anyone in the eyes, as after making eye contact with anyone having anything to sell (so basically everyone), you’re already trapped.

Here’s how this works, especially if you’re new around the city: someone sees you, quickly brands you as a tourist, drops some extravagant flattery on you and proceeds to a theatrical scenario justifying the reason behind the whatever free thing they want to gift you, because you’re so special and awesome and cute together and all that jazz (in our case, gifting us a “free” rose symbolizing some beautiful bullsh*t they make-up on the spot) and then guilts you into offering, or tipping them twice the price of the actual object, under the premise of helping feed the niece-daughter and fake-pregnant belly.

Now, there are a LOT of people with REAL struggles out there. And that is quite a sad thing to see. But a lot of people — as we’ve been taught by some more honest locals — take advantage of the real struggles of others and create this false image in order to make you feel it and open up your heart (read: wallet).

Some other lovely friend we would meet later in the journey referred to those people as malakas. But I don’t have to translate that word. :)

And so that was our last call before making it back to our apartment and preparing and planning for the days to follow.

But by the end of the night, my mind was somewhere else.

And it would be still a couple of days before I started to understand what was happening inside of my head…

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