Going For Gold - A Winter Escape to Athens

Everything we saw in Athens was a winner but our visit to the home of the Olympic Games, the magnificent Panathenaic Stadium, made it straight to the winner's podium.

The stadium was built by the Athenian statesman Lycurgus in 330 BC for the Panathenaic Games. It was rebuilt in marble by Herodes Atticus, an Athenian Roman senator, in 144 AD and had a capacity of 50,000 seats. After the rise of Christianity in the 4th century it was abandoned.

The stadium was excavated in 1869. After being refurbished, it hosted the opening and closing ceremonies of the first modern Olympics in 1896 and was once again used as an Olympic venue in 2004. It is also the last venue in Greece from where the Olympic flame handover ceremony to the host nation takes place.

The admission cost of €10 included an audio tour. These can often be very hit and miss with tinny headphones and a dry, charmless commentary but not here where the electronic guide was held like a phone and the narration was both interesting and engaging.

We passed through the Cave Of Dreams where both ancient and modern day athletes emerged from the gloom, blinking in the daylight to the roar of the crowd.

The former changing rooms now held a museum lined with posters from every Modern Olympics (my favourite was Stockholm 1912). Jon went wild in the gift shop. 

Dating back to 2AD these double-sided statues stand on the track, the younger athletes look up with anticipation towards the crowds whilst the older, bearded men gaze in the opposite direction, perhaps pensively reflecting on their lost youth.

The commentator urged us to climb the steps to the very top of the stadium where we were promised an incredible view over Athens. He wasn't wrong.

Our visit was the day after the worst rail crash in Greece's history, hence why the flags were flying at half mast - we weren't aware of the tragedy until Jon started to receive messages from worried friends when we'd finished our lap of the stadium.

We walked across the city to Syntagma Square where the majestic National Parliament Building takes centre stage. Built in 1842 as a palace for King Otto it fell into disrepair and was restored in 1926, opening as a single-chamber council for parliament. 

Standing sentry outside are the evzones dressed in the traditional costumes of kilts and tsarouhia (pom-pommed shoes) worn since the Greek War of Independence of 1821. These soldiers guard the Tomb of The Unknown Soldier and change on the hour every hour in an elaborate and mesmerising ceremony. 

The evzones are huge, the minimum height requirement to join is 6' 2"!

After all that excitement it was time for lunch so we headed back to an elegant taverna in Plaka and although the interior was glorious, we chose to feast on Greek salads on the rooftop basking in 21°C sunshine. 

Don't you love a photobombing cat?

Fed and refreshed we climbed Philopappos Hill, ascending the lush pine-covered slopes via a maze of paths which, our guide book told us, would afford us the best views of Athens.

We passed the caves believed to be Socrates' prison where, having been condemned to death, his disciplines sat with him as he drank the hemlock that despatched him in 399 BC.

The guidebook wasn't wrong about those views!

Standing atop the hill is the Philopappos Monument, built in AD 116 in honour of Syrian-born prince and Roman consul, Gaius.

We ascended down the Hill of the Nymphs, believed by the Ancients to be inhabited by the female spirits of trees, mountain tops and springs.

At the base of the hill stands the newly unveiled bronze statue of the American-Greek soprano Maria Callas commemorating 100 years since her birth in 1923. Not without controversy, its critics have referred to it as Gandhi in high heels 

After siestas, we headed back into town for dinner in a taverna so popular with the locals that we had to queue for a seat.

Armed with a bag of beers from the kiosk we headed up to the rooftop for our final late-night booze-up.

Over breakfast the following morning we noticed that the Acropolis flag was flying at half mast.

It was time to fly back to the UK. After checking out of Home & Poetry we walked towards the metro station opposite the National Parliament Building and realised that with all the broken glass and scorch marks, there must have been riots in the city overnight, we'd wondered about all the sirens. The Athenians were furious, blaming the train crash on the Greek government's twenty-year lack of investment in the railways. The train drivers had gone on strike and the Metro was closed but the buses were still running and we made it to the airport in good time although we'd have been more than happy to turn back and spend another week in the city.

Athens, you were amazing!