Athens: the first chapter that was only meant to be a layover

Fortunately, we did make it to the airport. Soon I was sitting at the bar with a lungo in front of me, the green backpack beside me and Gate 4 – Athens on the board. What struck me was that I felt no travel nerves at all. No checking the boarding pass every two minutes, no wondering what I'd forgotten. Just calm, and the knowledge that two weeks lay ahead in which I still had no idea what was going to happen.

That's exactly the feeling I love at the start of a journey.

The first hours in Athens

The flight went quickly. The walk through Athens airport itself felt a bit longer. ATH is enormous, and at times I felt the trek from the plane to the metro could easily be logged as a separate stage of the trip.

I bought a ticket, got on the metro and headed for the centre. When I stepped out, Athens hit me with exactly what I'd probably been expecting all along. Noise, traffic, motorbikes, old buildings next to new ones, chaos, heat, and in the middle of it all, thousands of years of history. It isn't a city that tries to look perfect. And maybe that's precisely why it clicked with me almost immediately.

Naturally, the first freddo espresso followed. Without it, Greece probably wouldn't officially have started.

I didn't want to go to the accommodation just yet. When I have a few free hours in a city, I can't just sit and wait for check-in. So my first real stop was the Temple of Olympian Zeus. Huge columns, blue sky above them, and all around, the completely ordinary bustle of modern Athens. Cars waiting at the lights, people hurrying to work or to lunch, and a few metres away stands something that was there long before any of it.

That contrast is exactly what I liked about Athens.

After a while hunger kicked in, so a quick gyros followed. No complications. I'm in Greece, I'm hungry, give me a gyros. Only then did I go and check in.

The room was lovely, with a balcony and a view, and in that moment I said to myself: this time, you chose well.

I didn't get to enjoy it for long, though. I still had one more plan.

The Acropolis.

The Acropolis without the Acropolis

Everyone knew entry was free that Sunday. So I naively assumed I'd turn up, take a ticket and walk up.

No.

At the first gate, tickets were sold out. Fine, I thought, I'll try the second one. I walked over to the other entrance and got exactly the same result.

Sold out.

For a moment I just stood there, looking up at the Acropolis above me. I could have been annoyed: I'm in Athens, practically standing under the Acropolis, and I can't get onto it. But travelling has taught me a few times already that when plan A doesn't work out, there's not much point turning it into a tragedy.

So I climbed Areopagus Hill instead.

And in the end, I was glad that's where I ended up.

I sat down on the rock up there and didn't go anywhere for about half an hour. The Acropolis in front of me, all of Athens below me. I took photos, looked out over the city, and for a while just sat. No next item on the programme, no need to rush off anywhere.

I may not have made it onto the Acropolis, but I had it right in front of me in all its glory. And at that moment, that was completely enough.

Maybe these are the moments I love most about travelling. The ones that were never part of the plan.

Wandering is sometimes better than an itinerary

Then I came back down into the city and gradually stopped worrying about where exactly I was going. I love that moment when I no longer need to keep checking the map. When I simply turn into a lane because it looks interesting, and then into the next one.

I passed the Roman Agora, had a light afternoon snack and carried on through the old streets. Later I found my way into Plaka, where you can easily spend an hour doing nothing in particular. Narrow lanes, steps, little tavernas, open windows, motorbikes parked in places where, by every law of physics, they shouldn't fit, tourists and locals alike, and above it all, still the Acropolis.

I felt no need to tick off sights. I just wandered.

Eventually I reached the Panathenaic Stadium too. The strange thing about Athens is that every few minutes you stumble upon a place that anywhere else would be the main attraction. Here it's sometimes just the next thing around the corner.

In the evening I ended up on the pedestrian street by the Acropolis Museum. I sat outside and had souvlaki. Nothing complicated, no grand culinary plan. Just dinner, people around me, and the feeling that the first day had turned out exactly as it should.

I hadn't made it onto the Acropolis, but in a few hours I'd managed the Olympieion, a gyros, the view from the balcony, two sold-out gates, half an hour on the Areopagus, the Roman Agora, Plaka, the Panathenaic Stadium and an evening souvlaki.

And above all, I no longer felt like I'd just landed in Athens.

I felt like I was in Athens.

Athens has its own alarm clock

The next day I barely needed an alarm. Athens has its own.

From five in the morning: cars, horns, and somewhere down below a police officer with a whistle who, judging by the intensity of her performance, had clearly decided that if she was up, nobody else was going to sleep.

I closed my eyes for a little longer. When I woke up the second time, the sun was already shining onto the terrace. I had fresh juice and coffee, slowly packed the green backpack and started on the second part of the day.

I didn't feel like heading to the airport yet.

So I left the backpack in left luggage and took the tram towards the sea.

A few dozen minutes later I was at Edem Beach.

And the contrast was brilliant. In the morning, horns, traffic and the bustle of a big city; a little later, sea, sand, sun and waves.

Of course I went for a swim.

After all, I'm in Greece, I have the sea in front of me and a few more hours before my flight. What else would I be doing?

After the swim I walked along the coast towards Flisvos. No chasing kilometres, no athletic feat. Just a walk by the sea, the sun, and that pleasant feeling that I was technically still in Athens, even though the city centre felt very far away at that moment.

Then I went back to Edem Beach and sat down at the beach bar for lunch.

And these are exactly the moments I love most on a trip. I know that in a few hours I have to be at the airport. I know that tonight I'll be sleeping on a different island. I know the next part of the journey is already waiting.

But right now, I don't have to do anything.

I'm just sitting by the sea, having lunch.

From the beach straight to Karpathos

After lunch, the logistical part of the day began. The tram back to the centre, collect the green backpack from left luggage, swing it onto my back and walk to Syntagma.

From there, M3 towards Athens Airport.

Sitting on the metro, I thought about how much I'd actually managed in less than two days. The Temple of Olympian Zeus, the first gyros, the first freddo, a beautiful view from the room, a twice sold-out Acropolis, the Areopagus, the Roman Agora, Plaka, the Panathenaic Stadium, an evening souvlaki, the morning police officer with her whistle, the tram to the sea, a swim, a walk towards Flisvos and lunch right on Edem Beach.

And yet I never felt like I'd been running a tourist race.

That's probably the way of travelling that suits me best. See a lot, but don't turn it into a race.

At the airport, Olympic Air OA2 to Karpathos was waiting for me. The departure slipped a little, so I had some extra time, but at that moment I honestly didn't mind. Athens was behind me, and ahead of me a completely different part of the journey was beginning.

Or at least, I thought Athens was behind me.

At that point I had no idea I'd be coming back to it during this island hopping.

But that's a different chapter.

The green backpack came with me.

By evening I was supposed to be on Karpathos.

And the island hopping was finally about to begin in earnest.