I’m not sure what to say about Athens. I want to be charitable, and I really wanted to like it. I was in the city for three nights, arriving late for the first and departing very early following the third. So, in effect, I had two days. I spent the first day roaming and, feeling a bit deflated, I used the second for writing and reading, which picked up my spirits.

Long-haul travelers will be able to relate to the occasional lapse into despondency. It’s natural, and I have found the solution is to accept that it is the cause of a potentially-bad day and allow it to run its course without piling on any guilt about unmet expectations to make it worse. Bad days happen at home, too – and to everyone – so we ought not to put pressure on ourselves as people living out a dream to never have one while we’re traveling, either. I try to take the Buddhist attitude: observe that the sour feelings are there, and allow them to pass by.

I met the city by way of the Aegean – from the deck of a high-speed ferry from Naxos. Rising from the sea, a blurred mass of white buildings took the place of where on any smaller landmass there’d be land. What came into focus was exciting: ancient ruins atop hills, mountains (a surprise to the uninformed – me) nestling the crowded and massive city. I felt a thrill of welcome granted me by three thousand years of architecture, art, and philosophy. This was a city for me, I thought to myself.

It’s the little things, really, that add up to a generally negative attitude on my part. The weirdly expensive Metro tickets, and the lack of a coherent rail-transit system (to be fair, my comparison point is Berlin or Dresden, both of which have been completely rebuilt in the last century – Athens hasn’t been so unlucky as to require a complete retooling). The prohibitively long lines at the Acropolis (which I didn’t see up close because I was unwilling to stand in the horde of waiting tourists). The falsely friendly desk manager at my hotel. The actual hotel room in which I found myself. The Chicagoan family who rejected my attempt at friendly conversation and traveler-in-kind advice-giving. There was the unmistakable wafting scent of garbage. (There had been a strike by garbage collectors over the week prior to my appearance at the port, and as if in preparation for my arrival, they had just gotten back to work – working double-routes – to clear the accumulated refuse. The smell hadn’t dissipated by the time I left three days later.) The neighborhood in which I settled for the duration was not a good neighborhood. While the hotel/hostel was clean enough, though it is a bit much to call it a gem merely tarnished by its surroundings. (In any decent neighborhood, I think this place would have seemed pretty bad, despite a very nicely apportioned ground floor.) It wasn’t a dangerous part of the city, exactly – at least I don’t think so – but it was run-down and largely vacant in the evenings. The homeless population between my hotel and the metro stop to which I walked on the third morning numbered in the dozens, and the pigeons scanning the streets for food were innumerable. I found myself walking north when I should have been walking south…

And so, a combination of factors contributed to my downturn for my second full day, and despite a mental turnaround for my departure on the third morning, my attitude toward the city solidified all the same. I suppose the real turnaround for my attitude happened when I settled into my seat for my flight to Corfu.

I think of Athens today as a dirtier, stinkier version of Rome, and with numbers of pickpockets similar to or exceeding those of Rome. (The recorded voice on the train warns passengers to keep a close eye on their belongings. I felt more constantly on edge in Athens than in Rome. And honestly, I’d rather never have to worry about pickpockets – and so, of course, in considering this I miss Germany, where I always feel safe.)

This photo about sums up my impression of Athens (July 2017)

Here’s the honest truth: I didn’t give Athens a decent chance, maybe. I get the distinct feeling that staying in a different part of the city – probably south of the Acropolis –, arriving at archaeological sites early in the morning, and not hesitating to spend money where on this occasion I was tight-fisted… all of this would generate a wholly different experience of Athens. I’m just not sure I am interested in returning.

A true bright spot in my visit was found south of the Acropolis – the Little Tree Coffee & Tea cafe and bookshop (sorry, no titles in English so far as I could tell). It was a lovely and grace-saving spot where I settled to catch my traveler’s breath and reassess my attitudes on day one.

Little Tree Coffee & Tea (Athens; July, 2017)

Remember that you can follow all of the summer’s adventures by going to the main 2017 travel page. Please, have a look around.