I have a very vivid memory of myself when I was young. I don’t remember my exact age, but I know that I was obsessed with Greek and Roman gods for some reason. I had come across a list of Greek gods and goddesses and their Roman equivalents. I spent quite a bit of time transcribing the names from the computer to my spiral bound notebook. Then, of course, as most obsessions go, I completely forgot about it for years.

Later, when I entered college, I told myself regardless of what university I ended up choosing, I had to take Latin. I had always wanted to. Once I was in college and locked into my five-day-a-week Latin class, my obsession came back. In addition to three years of Latin, I also took a year of Ancient Greek. It was at this same time in popular media that the movie 300 came out. Before seeing the movie in theaters, I remember translating the story of the 300 in class. It fascinated me. And, as I started planning my trip to Greece, all of that interest was reignited yet again. My adult version of a Classical Studies obsession.

“My motivation for choosing Greece was slightly impulsive. I was looking over a Google flight map with prices months ago. I scanned over Greece, and it just made perfect sense. I love beaches, which they have in abundance, and I actually do enjoy the study and reverence of the ancients. I realize that every place has a history, but I feel like some places inspire more. They inspire great nations, great conquests, and great stories. I studied Greek and Latin in college. I was an English major. I love a good story.” - Journal Entry, 8.6.24

I guess you could say that I took the summer off from traveling, but it would only be partly true. I returned from Japan at the end of May 2024. I spent the subsequent June trying to stay busy. Instead of long city walks around Tokyo, I was hitting the bike trail of my hometown. I had to keep moving, even if I wasn’t really going anywhere. I was traveling from one day to the next, putting more distance between myself and the person I was mere months before. I had quit my job for this; I needed to make sure it was worth it. Or so I told myself. I spontaneously booked a trip to Greece in their hottest month of the year - August. I would like to say that I had the foresight to plan the rest of the year, but I was really just making this up as I went along.

I spent most of July in the Pacific Northwest, visiting with family and enjoying the wild beauty of the coast. I was also furiously planning my upcoming trip, booking hotels, trying to navigate the Greek transit websites, and decide how much of Greece I could see. Harder than it sounds, picking and choosing what to see, where to visit. Because you don’t really know how much you will like or dislike a place until you are physically there. I am a firm believer and observer of the energy of a place being almost intrinsic - tied to the natural evolution of a place, to the cultural evolution of a people, and the collective memory of the good and bad that took place there. But, I get ahead of myself. I haven’t even arrived in Greece yet.

I booked flights to Athens for the month of August because I found a great deal on them, and after arriving and experiencing three weeks of sweltering heat, I understood why. Luckily for me, I was raised in a hot and humid climate, and I packed a lot of linen. In my excitement over the inexpensive flights and my spontaneity in booking the trip in the first place, I was remiss to notice the dead hours in my travel. I had a five hour layover on my way from New Orleans, and upon arriving in Athens, I had an additional five hours to wait until I could check into my hotel.

After an unnecessarily long day of travel, I arrived in Athens the next morning. I took a subway to my hotel, finding a small coffee shop around the corner of my stay. After depositing my luggage in the hotel lobby, I went for a coffee and a wait until check-in. I used that opportunity to begin journaling, people-watching, and generally just trying to stay awake. Once in my hotel, I promptly took a nap. Upon waking, I walked to a nearby restaurant, called Alexander the Great, and had a lovely dinner outside. I then proceeded to sleep well into the next day. Rested and adjusted to my new time zone, I began to explore Athens.

“My initial impressions of Athens are overall positive. There is a pervasive smell, as if every Greek man here is wearing too much cologne. Or maybe not that one person is wearing too much but that collectively, the country is trying too hard to smell nice. I also noticed a stale smell to the subway, as if the country is always hot, but doesn’t bother with air conditioning. Why would you if it’s always hot? Much better to get used to it. There is a gentle breeze, as if the gods of Olympus are sighing. Putting very little effort into cooling us, but doing so nonetheless.” - Journal Entry, 8.6.24

If I were to associate a sound with a place, as a trigger to a memory, I would pair Athens with the ever-present chirping of cicadas. A metronomic humming clinging like heat to the air, the cicadas welcomed me with fanfare. It was at first an odd experience, walking around Athens, meeting the city for the first time, wondering what on earth is that sound? And then realizing that it was the perfect background noise for where I was.

THE HIGHLIGHTS FOR ME WERE:

Graffiti: Modern Art Amid Remnants of the First Republic…

I find that I am often drawn to a specific image or stylistic form when visiting a new place. It’s those aspects, architectural or natural, that continue to catch my eye, so then, unthinkingly, I begin to seek them out. In Athens, that “thing” was indisputable the graffiti. I suppose given the populous nature of the city, I shouldn’t have been. And yet, I was captivated by it. It was such a bright and unusual contrast to the ancient monuments. The juxtaposition of rampant street art against these almost mythical relics of the past was just so fascinating. I found both to be beautiful.

Check out my Instagram reel here.

Strefi Hill for a Panoramic view of Athens

“Next, I headed to Strefi Hill, which according to Google is a good place to get a view of Athens. It was a little difficult to decipher how to get to the top, but I managed. The last bit was a little intimidating, as it was just the loose dirt and rock. I don’t have a fear of heights, per se. I just have a healthy respect for the possibility that I could easily slip and fall. There was quite a bit of graffiti all over the hill, but really there is quite a bit of graffiti all over Athens. I could imagine groups of young people having late night parties on Strefi, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and having sex, if the bottle tops, butts, and condom wrappers were any indication. I got an amazing 360 degree view of the city and my first glimpse of the Parthenon. It was breathtaking, and not just because I hiked up there.” - Journal Entry, 8.8.24

Lycabettus Hill, the Highest Spot in Athens

High on the feel of the view from Strefi Hill, I was determined to see more. The best views usually come with effort. Hiking up to the top of Lycabettus Hill was indeed an effort, and I was immensely thankful for the chilled bottles of water being sold at the summit. Because, although I did have water, it wasn’t that deliciously cold kind that refreshes you from the inside out. After appreciating another far-reaching view, I peeked into the Saint George Chapel before sitting down for lunch. A glass of house white, a Greek salad, and moussaka - an appropriate meal for the day, if i may say so myself.

Acropolis/Parthenon

In Athens, one could say that all views lead to the Parthenon. As a pinnacle atop accomplishment, the Parthenon stands out amongst the many monuments in the Acropolis. I bought a ticket online ahead of time, allowing me entry during an allotted time slot. Crowded no matter the season, I joined the other tourists as we ascended the many steps to the temple. The smooth, marble steps worn shiny by time and use. The magnitude of the stonework surrounding me was astounding, and the preservation work on them was ongoing. Upon entering the Acropolis, I almost didn’t know where my focus belonged anymore. I was no longer just viewing from afar; I was among. The columns towering above me, the sun blazing down unobstructed, the winds whirling with force - the ground beneath my feet was real. I was present, but I was past.

“I still can’t entirely put into words what it feels like to be here, walking amongst ancient ruins. Ancient ruins that I have read about, studied, and viewed as separate, a history far away both in space and time.

It was busy, but I imagine it is always busy. The rock, or marble, that everything is built on and of is smooth and firm. It is no wonder that these structures stood the test of centuries. It is as if the earth itself supports this place. It is hot and dry. I wonder what it is like to see it rain here. It is hard to imagine. I am sure it does indeed happen eventually, but it hard to imagine the earth absorbing anything but ‘adamancy.’

The Aegean Sea in the distance, it is almost as if you could forget the time, dissolve the modern day and cast your gaze to the past beyond.” -Journal Entry, 8.9.24

Philopappos Hill

West of the Acropolis, Philopappos Hill and the surrounding green space is host to a myriad of ancient monuments, including the Prison of Socrates. Still captivated by the Parthenon in the distance, although I met her up close the day before, I climbed Muse Hill and the Hill of the Nymphs hoping to catch another view.

“I sat and marveled at where I was. I was viewing the Acropolis from afar, as it is hard to miss and creates a focal point for all of Athens.

The realization that I was here, that I had just walked there still blows my mind. Every time I start to go to an introspective place, I have to pull myself back out. It’s a deep, cavernous space where I exist but only in connection to everyone and everything else. My mind wanders to the magnitude and weight of the past around me, to be significant merely by extension of the civilization of man.

My paltry worries and fears seem insignificant in the gravity of such thoughts.

As if tethered to my body, my mind flies and reaches, fanning out, and then I’m falling, not down but up. Up into the sky, towards the blazing sun. Staring until my eyes no longer see, blinking away my mortality, and flying with the gods.” - Journal Entry, 8.9.24