You heard me right. It’s not Athens, Georgia. It’s not Athens, New York. It sure as hell ain’t Athens, Alabama (yes I checked- that’s a real place). It’s THE Athens. The blueprint. The original. Mother, if you will.
Where do I even begin? Athens has been a Matt bucket list place to visit ever since I came into this world at St. Mary’s Regional Medical Center in the great year of 1993. It’s the cradle of western civilization, democracy, and all that other generic shit listed in school textbooks. It’s also an incredibly interesting and wonderful case study of how cities can revere and honor the past, while evolving to accommodate successive waves and ebbs. Athens is the capital and hub of modern Greece and has been for (checks notes) about 3500 years. No biggie. I mean, Athens really is in a league of it’s own (well, maybe alongside other ancient urban centers like Beijing, Beirut, Varanasi and Damascus). These places have so many layers of history that it’s hard for a little west coast flamer like me to comprehend. Thousands of years of different cultures rising, making their mark, and falling into obscurity. Sometimes gradually, oftentimes abruptly and violently. I mean, they have really seen some SHIT. It really helps put so many things into perspective. Ok enough of the thoughtful bullshit- this is a lavidaveeta post after all. We want 100% balls-to-the-wall utter insanity amirite? *airhorn* *screech**another airhorn**A SECOND LOUDER SCREECH*. So let’s leave the well-versed generalizations of Athens behind and talk about how magical it was for me and my family to experience this marvelous, marble-clad, multi-millennium-spanning metropolis.
Athens greeted us with full springtime glory. The city is absolutely covered in citrus trees- almost every street is lined with bountiful orange trees (which were in bloom and deliciously fragrant, and were also absolutely loaded with oranges), blooming almond trees, fruit-laden lemon trees, and the ubiquitous olive tree. If there’s one thing we learned in Athens (and the Mediterranean in general) it’s that olives are life, laughter, and love. They are everywhere. In the park? Olive trees. The side of the road? Olive trees. Next to your bed as you sleep at night, watching over you like a protective guardian with a warm embrace? Olive trees. They are right there with you, from birth to death; an ever present and delicious presence. Well, for other people. I was afraid to out myself as a (lowers voice) non olive lover. You know, I’m not trying to ruin our standing in the world right now more than we already are (obligatory fuck you Trump fascist pieces of shit). *exhale* Let’s move on.
Plaka. In Greek, Πλάκα. What does it mean, you may ask? Bitch, I’m not a historian, nor am I a master of the Greek language, so I have 0 clues and even fewer guesses. But what I can tell you is that it’s a really beautiful neighborhood in Athens that we spent a lot of time exploring. It was my favorite part of the city hands down bootz. Nestled on the eastern slopes of Acropolis Hill, Plaka is the oldest neighborhood of the current city, and for much of Athens’ history it represented the town itself. I think Plaka is what my smooth-brained US raised self pictured all of Athens to be: narrow, winding, cobbled streets with orange-tiled buildings in bright hues clustered together with bougainvillea bursting between weathered ruins. And don’t get me wrong, Plaka hit each and every one of those points FABULOUSLY. But please, don’t reduce her to a stereotype, because she is so much more than that:
- Plaka is the herds of neighborhood cats- at first appearing feral in nature, but upon closer inspection you see that they are extremely well taken care of by the Plaka community with public (cat-public?) beds and shelters, water and food bowls scattered throughout, and an abundance of people more than happy to love on them. Not a bad life, eh?
- Plaka are it’s buildings. And I don’t mean the large monuments and churches (although those are pretty frenching spectacular as well). I mean the small houses on dead end streets, falling apart through decades (or more??) of neglect, but possessing a fading, decaying beauty. The stories these houses could tell.
- Plaka are it’s birds. The ever-present magpies, which squack frequently and quite frankly sound GOOFY AF. If you have a problem with it, come for me magpies. I’ll fight you. And your family. AND take your shiny things. Bitch.
- Plaka is its roof tiles- strikingly unique, with a decorative, vertical front row of tiles oftentimes featuring sculptures of faces, floral motifs, mythological references or geometric designs. Wikipedia tells me that these are called antefixes and were popular throughout Greece and Roman architecture. NGL- it’s kinda funny that Rome straight up copied a bunch of Greek concepts and gave them slightly different names and applications. It’s like plagiarizing someone’s schoolwork but changing a few things here and there to make it look like your own. LAME. ROME, YOU’RE LAME. I’LL FIGHT YOU AND THE MAGPIES. AT THE SAME TIME.
- Plaka is it’s amazing people:
- That includes Ramon, a man we met playing a bouzouki (a type of mandolin) on an empty side street to a captive audience of 5 sleeping cats. We stopped, tipped him some euros, and enjoyed his music. Well, little did we know that Ramon is a fucking VIBE. We learned that he LOVES the Chicago Bulls, especially the Dream Team era (duh). He let my brother play his bouzouki, which of course he slayed (shoutout Charlie I know you read the blog or if you don’t you better start now whore!). He gave us shots of rakia (a Greek spirit similar to grappa- very strong!) out of an unmarked bottle and we toasted to Chicago. He also proceeded to yell at a passing tourist who stopped to take pictures of him and his cats (honestly I’d do the same). He then told us that he’s used to being photographed by strangers constantly, without his consent, during peak tourist season. He has had friends find videos of him on TikTok which he wasn’t aware of- fucked up. Ramon now charges for pictures and videos, which is quite cunty (non-derogatory) if you ask me. We love you Ramon, you king.
- It includes Ana, the lovely owner of a tavern we found early one morning as we stopped across the street to get coffee. Ana was washing the tavern’s patio, watching me as I took endless pictures of the early morning light on some neighboring buildings. Ana (who didn’t speak any English and probably has to deal with so many bumbling buffoons like me all the time) came up to me, and offered for me to go up to the roof of her building and take pictures. I mean, OF COURSE I DID. What I didn’t plan on, however, was getting extremely lost in the building and almost forcing open the wrong door. Ana, noticing my incompetence, came up the stairs and pointed at the very obvious correct pathway up to the roof, while smiling and shaking her head. Ana, you exemplify cuntiness (non-derogatory) in its purest form. We salute you.
- It includes Romeo, a painter on another side street who was painting these beautiful landscape scenes completely from memory (or straight off the top of the dome?) Either way, they were super detailed, vibrant, and stunning. Romeo also was loudly watching some Greek TV show on his phone where people were screaming at each other- possibly some kind of soap opera?? I choose to believe that’s what it is. Because if so that would ALSO definitely embody cuntiness (non-derogatory).
At this point you’re probably like bitch where did you go that wasn’t Plaka? First of all, go eat a fucking ding dong and calm down. Secondly, a lot of places! I’m gonna give a brief rundown of some of my standout spots and what silliness transpired there:
- Acropolis Hill: I mean duh hello how could we not? It was the first place we visited, all together (I went on the trip with my mom, dad, brother and his girlfriend). It was pleasantly surprising to see the accessibility accommodations they had (including a separate lift to the top) considering most of Athens was very lacking in that infrastructure. But beyond that, like HOLY $W&#(F*CWEN was it incredible. I teared up. Multiple times. Being in the presence of structures that ancient that have been preserved and restored and loved throughout the years is something truly incredible. What wasn’t were the people literally just there to take selfies with some buildings in the background. Pretty cunty (DEROGATORY).
- Piraeus and the Athens Riviera: Piraeus is, for lack of a better analogy, the Tacoma to Athens’ Seattle. And I don’t mean it has an overwhelming stench of decay and a thirst for the blood of virgins. I mean that it’s a port city connected to Athens by way of urban sprawl and freeways with reaaaaal bad traffic. But more than that- she’s also real purty. There’s also this giant development happening in this area along the coast called Ellnikon which sounds and looks good on paper but we are convinced is a giant real estate scam/cult/money laundering scheme. I mean, there were multiple cranes set up that weren’t actually connected to any construction sites and had no materials, an “interactive experience” which had dedicated staff that couldn’t answer simple questions as to the logistics of the development (my brother and his GF went and described the experience as “bizarre and unsettling”- the staff all wore matching powder blue suits, smiled non-stop and were in a giant empty airport hangar with no one else around. Kinda spooky). You know I love mess and scandal so trust I will be watching for updates on this like a HAWK.
- Presidential Palace: There are some guards that change shift here with fruity little shoes with giant flamboyant poofballs on em and that high step by each other while people take pictures. It was kinda gay NGL. But like, not in a fun way? Moreso in a #twinks4trump way. Idk- anything related to the military I could literally give -5000 fucks about so this was probs my least favorite thing in Athens.
- Stavros Niarchos Park: Just casually a giant beautiful park with extensive gardens full of olive trees (of course) and native Mediterranean species built ON THE ROOF OF A GIANT LIBRARY. America could never. ROME could never (suck it Rome).
- Temple of Hephaestus & Ancient Agora: Some stunning partially restored temples, both Greek and Byzantine, contrasted with the fully restored ancient Agora (the original marketplace of the city). The architecture and grounds were stunning. Even more stunning? The ABS on the statues- my LORD what kind of belly fat blasting phen-phen Ozempic Jenny Craig lifestyle were these people into? I was gooped, gagged, and only slightly aroused.
In summary, I’d like to make an analogy. Athens is a drag queen. But not any drag queen. She is a LEGEND. Think a Sasha Colby. She has been there, done that, and still looks fucking stunning. She has fellow legendary sisters that have weathered the storms of time together (i.e. Damascus, Beijing, etc. Also wouldn’t Damascus or Beijing kinda be cunty (non-derogatory) drag names? I think so). She has birthed many drag children (yes, even including the one she’s maybe a little embarrassed by because they’re loud and obnoxious- ROME). She has forever left her mark in the world, even as the world has not always been respectful or kind back to her. She has grace, and flaws, and an undying spirit. She will open her home to you, feed you, give you wine, and punch you in the face if you offend her. We will forever love and respect you, Athens. Thank you for welcoming my family. Thank you for sharing your stories with us. And most of all, thank you for letting us drink from your unlabeled glass bottle of (maybe homemade?) rakia on a random side street on a beautiful afternoon.
Before I finish this post- I would like to make a formal statement to the city of Rome: I do not actually think you are loud, obnoxious, plagiarizing, lame or cunty (derogatory). I simply made these statements for the purpose of artistic and comedic expression. Please don’t sue me ❤
Αθήνα, Ελλάδα (Athens, Greece)- March 2025
La Vida Veeta 