GREECE DAY 1 – DESTINATION ATHENS

An epic summer at the shore, maybe the best weather in decades. We say legitimately sad goodbyes and head back to Bucks County. For exactly 48 hours. Uber to EWR for a very civilized wait in the United Polaris Lounge. It’s a long overnight flight to Athens, and we get to lay flat. Takeoff is delayed but nothing serious as the wine cart is already flowing. It’s Mandy’s first time in a pod in business, hers right in front of mine along the windows. Halfway through the original Top Gun movie (we’re gonna watch both) we’re texting 

Landing is uneventful, the best kind, but an unnamed travel partner of mine left her phone on the plane. An hour or so later in the chaotic luggage-problem desk and we’re on our way.  The founding senators failed to make provisions for air travel. So it’s a 40 minute ride to the Academias Autograph Hotel in the center of town. We check in sorta, as the room isn’t ready, drop our bags, and head out exploring on foot. We’re on the hunt for the elusive best gyro in Athens. The interweb suggests this mythological creature may be found at O Thanasis in Monastiraki square so there we head. It’s a touristy neighborhood, but most of the patrons at the restaurant are speaking Greek – we can tell because I recognize the characters in the cartoon speech balloons over their heads from my time in Sigma Alpha Mu in college. We over-order, equal measures of being delirious from the time zone change and wanting to try everything on the menu. Michael, our waiter, has a short-lived tenure as our new best friend as he fills our glasses with our newer best friend, a cold dry white that pours more like agave syrup then an Italian Pinot Grigio.  We start with a traditional Greek salad and Saganaki, fried yellow cheese that behaved like halumi but tasted like a grilled cheese without the bread.  Mains were beef Souvlaki and their signature Thanasis Kebab, an unrolled gyro.  The food is delish and makes me think that the woman at my favorite food truck in college really nailed the authenticity of it all. 

(click on the pictures to see full size images)

Check in, get room, nap hard.  We’re back out around 7:30 and head for a rooftop recommended by the front desk.  As we approach the Parliament building, the streets are filled with 10 busses of police in riot gear, lazily playing with their phones and smoking real cigarettes (this is not a vaping crew).  They are here, ready, but for what?  A few blocks later we see the sitch… A harsh, almost fascist sounding rally in the park across from Parliament, and a many-times-larger demonstration of students marching in the streets surrounding the rally.  The students begin their movement just before we cross, singing songs and carrying signs, but we slide through without incident.  While we finish the walk to our destination, the entire event unfolds peacefully.  Hooray for our side.  And the original democracy. 

The entrance to the rooftop bar at Emoru 18 is a bit of a challenge, the elevator bank hidden between a few small vendor stalls selling their wares to the tourists.  The elevator car is miniscule, unventilated and smelly from the bodies in this 90F weather.  I’m losing hope by the second.  Getting off, it’s another spiral up to the very top and into the Beyond The Horizon bar.  And wow.  Sunset over a panoramic view of the city, the Parthenon on the top of the Acropolis dominating the view.  I instantly understand I’m in the presence of one of the most significant contributions of Greece to the world… dramatic architectural uplighting.  They just kill it.  The vibe is amazing, dim, cooler than words with thumpy house music filling the air.  Although there’s a full drink menu, there’s only two real choices.  We order a couple glasses of dry rose as we already plowed through a bottle or white earlier today.  We spend a very leisurely hour sipping, talking and looking.  We agree, best rooftop bar anywhere.

 We’re in the Monastiraki neighborhood and need a nosh, so we wander around to find something intriguing.  We find the beautifully gaudy Tazza, done in Greek Ya-Ya’s (grandmother’s) tacky best.  More local white wine, its thickness pleasantly in contrast to its dryness.  We’re getting the hang of Greek wine pretty quickly.  The mezze platter and stuffed grape leaves, an Israeli street guitarist, an 11 year old playing a traditional Toubeleki drum and a flirty bombshell hostess perfectly set the scene for the end of first Athenian night.