CITY OF THE VIOLET CROWN

What meager words should I choose to describe the awe inspired by the Parthenon illuminated on a perfect moonlit night? Or the view from atop the Areopagus? Or the majestic sight of the legendary Acropolis? Suffice it to say that words escape me. My first night in Athens is spent wandering the city in ideal Mediterranean fall weather. There is a soft romanticism in the air which I thought only existed in fiction. Musicians serenade passersby. Couples stroll arm in arm the ancient marble streets without a care on earth. Candlelit sidewalk cafes beckon with the sounds of warm conversations and laughter over the clink of wineglasses. All my anxieties seem miles removed, and I marvel at how many endless centuries of history have shaped this place, this cradle of western civilization.

The temples and monuments honoring ancient Greek gods; Zeus, Ares, Apollo, and of course, Athena, are a testament to both the ingenuity and the devotion of the ancient Greeks. Here was the birthplace of democracy, philosophy, and western architecture, among many other pillars of modern civilization. To imagine the scope of what was undertaken by the ancients, with only primitive means at their disposal, is overwhelming. It is no wonder that the ancient Romans emulated the Greeks.

Tourism is the leading industry in the city, which draws crowds from across the world to witness its beauty and grandeur. One day, after spending the morning on the Acropolis, I visited a quaint little café in the Plaka, a popular village within central Athens. I’m proud to say that I was mistaken for a local. Restaurant and shop personnel speak both Greek and English very well, so I took it as a compliment that I was addressed in Greek, because I usually try to make it a point not to automatically give off a “tourist” vibe. While dining on a cheese soufflé and a delicious frappe, I met a lovely fellow American named Nina and we had a nice chat about the sights in Athens. She recommended I visit the new Museum of the Acropolis (still under construction, but allowing some visitor access), and I urged her to visit the Odeon of Herodus Atticus, an ancient theatre in the shadow of the Acropolis.

After lunch I was sitting on the marble steps in front of the Spanish Embassy when I was approached by an amiable Dutchman named Floris and his delightful young son (whose name I cannot pronounce, much less spell). Floris, luggage in tow, asked if I could be so kind as to help them find a hotel. You see, he had promised his son a trip a European city of his choice, and the little tyke had selected Athens. In the spirit of adventure and exploration, they had simply purchased plane tickets and embarked on the journey without as much as a tentative itinerary. I admire this risk-taking, carefree quality in Europeans. It is something that many Americans, me included, could learn a great deal from. I took the venturesome duo to my hotel, which may have been nicer than they needed, but they were so grateful and kind that my dwindling faith in humankind was instantly rekindled on the spot.

There is too much beauty in Athens to express. The most powerful spot for me was the Areopagus, where the Apostle Paul spoke to the Athenian philosophers about a “God who dwelleth not in temples made by hands.” Go there for yourself. Visit the Parthenon, visit the Academy, visit the Parliament building and the monument to the Unknown Soldier, visit the ancient Agora, see the Arc of Hadrian, but most of all, wander the city and take in the atmosphere, the people, the culture, the history, and the splendor. It will be time well spent. Athens is a living city, a city whose love for life is unavoidably contagious.