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Now most organized people would have bought gifts long before their last night on a trip. However, I had a plan. I had been caring around a 50-pound backpack for two months. I did not want to fill it up and carry around things for two months. I knew that I would be flying out of A Athens and that the city had an entire section of town devoted to tourism. That is the removal of drachmas from tourists on quaint little reminders of their trip. So I would spend my last night in Athens. There was little for me to see or do in Athens. I had spent three days in the City on my previous trip seeing every sight imaginable. The Acropolis, the Agora and the temple of the Olympian Zeus. The Archeological Museum, the Byzantine museum, and even the war museum. I climbed the Leviticus for an awesome view and went shopping in the tourist district known as the Plaka. I figured that six hours in Athens would be about all I could take. Especially in the August heat. I had my Arrival timed perfectly. My flying dolphin was to arrive in Zea at six. Giving me an hour to walk over to the metro station, catch the metro to the flea market at the edge of the Plaka and literally run across the Plaka to the hostel hoping they hadn't given away my room. I had discovered something very interesting. When you are walking very fast, with a very large backpack on, looking very determined, people tend not to bother you lest you walk through them by accident. Well most people. I was within a block of the hostel when a herder, someone who's job was to convince you to go into their restaurant or bar, tried to get me to sit down and eat. He was even brave enough to step in front of me to impede my progress. I politely explained to him that I was not hungry and went on. Having checked into the hostel, I had prepaid my room the week before, I changed my clothes and decided to hit the streets looking for presents. I decided I would meander through the streets window-shopping and people watching. Some of the best parts of traveling is watching the way other people act. The Plaka is fairly easy to navigate form my hostel. I was on the main drag of restaurants with some shops. It eventually would wander its way down where it would attempt to go up to the Acropolis. Towards the end there was a cross street that had some shops to the north and a lot of shops to the south. Going down that, I would soon find my self in with several cross streets I could turn off of to reach a parallel street with shops that ran up to the metropolis (cathedral). One of the two streets would end up in the flea market the other at the Agora. It wasn't very hard to work my way around. I had not gotten more than 20 feet from the hostel door before a Greek accosted me. It was the same herder wanting me to sit and eat at his restaurant. I have two rules about restaurants. The first one is to avoid any restaurant with neon lights. The second is to avoid any restaurants with over eager herders trying to get you to sit down. I politely explained to him that it was only six thirty and I was not planning to eat until ten at the earliest. As I walked I scoped out places to eat as well as shop. I passed the stereotypical seafood restaurants, Gyro stands, tavernas, and bakeries. All of them served the same type of food you find all over Greece, only here the portions were smaller and the prices higher. After all, this was the Plaka, where the Greeks craftily send all of the tourists. I finally got to the shops and was not shocked to see the same types of items that are found all over Greece, only in greater quantities. First is the statue/vase shops. The statues are all replicas of famous statues. You have Poseidon, Apollo, Aphrodite and Zeus. Athena, Artemis, and good old Konossos. They vary in size but they are all said to be hand made. That isn't a lie either. The owners of these stores buy molds and pour the alabaster into the molds. The more crafty ones even paint the statues, for a small increase in price. These shops also have other knickknacks that have similar generation. They are made, in a back room. The next type of shop is the Jewelry shop. There are two general types. The older, "antique" jewelry and the fissionable new jewelry. The sad thing is that the items in both shops are mass-produced, which is why they are relatively cheap in price. There are then the art shops that sell paintings and prints. I haven't figured out how they do this one nor have I asked. What I do know is that the same paintings appear in every one of these shops all over Greece. There are a few other shops that sell knickknacks like worry beads, gods eyes, chess sets, flags, leather goods. You name it you can probably find it in the Plaka. MY favorite of the shops of course are the T shirt shops. In Athens, the owners pretend that they are the only ones with a type of shirt and that they are made outside. In reality most of the shirts are made with a pattern pressed onto a shirt. I had two hard rock café Olympia shirts made this way. I am sure I could even have had a Hard Rock Café Ermioni shirt made if I really wanted to. What like about these shops is the tasteless humor on many of the shirts. These are the shops that I am sure to visit just for the entertainment value. As I did my rounds I had two reminders of my previous visit. In one of the corners of the Plaka there is a rug shop next to some other "antique" shops. These are the variants that you don't find all over Greece. The reason I remember this corner is because I saw a rug on a previous trip that I fell in love with. I don't know why, but I liked it a lot. The guy originally wanted 700 dollars for it. Needless to say I paid a lot less that he "wanted" In this corner is also the rudest restaurant in Greece, or at least I had thought. I had eaten there a few years before because of the cheap prices. Well I found out the cheap price was because you didn't get very much food. Also, unlike other restaurants in Greece, they try to force you to finish quickly so they can get another costumer. In most respectable restaurants, they do not expect a turnaround. On my way back I tried to take a peek at the Metropolis before it closed. The Metropolis is located in the Plaka and is the Cathedral of Athens. I believe that this is where the Arch Bishop of the Greek Church says mass, if not one of the Bishops of Greece does. (The Arch bishop of Constantinople is technically the head) Therefore they are real traditional. So traditional they have a bouncer checking to make sure people do not come in wearing shorts or tank tops. Both of which I happened to be wearing. For some reason, every time I think about going into the Metropolis, I am wearing shorts, a tank top or both. Someday I will see the inside of that cathedral and be greatly disappointed. As I neared the youth hostel, the same herder tried to get me to visit his restaurant. I explained that it was still too early to eat. I didn't know where I was going to eat but I was going to avoid this restaurant at all costs. I had little else to do. I hung out at the hostel but there really wasn't anyone interesting to talk to. Most people were out shopping or eating and the people that stayed behind were suffering from too much sun or partying. Perhaps both. At about nine thirty I headed out to eat. Low and behold the same man tried to get me to eat at his restaurant. I explained to him that he had now attempted to get me to dine at his place four times and I was not planning on it so he might as well leave me alone. I had a nice dinner at another restaurant with good arnaka slavki(I was treating my self). The waiter was a little shocked that I ordered in Greek, however my ordering in resultants is very good due to sheer repetition. After a brief walkabout for one last look I decided upon a nightcap. I was a little disappointed an Ice cream shop, with a very friendly owner, I had visited before was no longer there. Instead, I chose a place central to the restaurant area, for the shops were now all closing where I could people watch. At the table next to me about 6 Greek guys were talking. About what I don't know but I do know that the only reason Greeks go to the Plaka is to pick up on tourists so I was lightly amused. I had to get up early the next morning to catch a bus to the Air Port. The Air Port was still "in" Athens. On my way back to the hostel I had to pass by the same guy who all evening had been trying to get me to eat at his restaurant. And guess what, he tried one last time to convince me to eat at his restaurant. Contact info: |