Anafiotika – an anachronistic paradox

The first walk after our arrival in Athens took us just around the immediate area of our hotel in Monastiraki. Directly below the steep rocks of the Acropolis, between the urban districts of Plaka and Monastiraki, we unexpectedly came across a small neighbourhood of simple, cubic, white terrace-roofed houses, steep stairs and winding alleys, bougainvillea and flower pots. The district reminded us more of an old Cycladic village than the rest of the surrounding Athens neighbourhoods with their sophisticated villas and ancient ruins, multi-storey commercial and residential buildings, wide streets and heavy traffic – and all that in a prime central location in the city centre with a view? It was, so to speak, an anachronistic paradox (a contradiction out of its time).

In contrast to this tranquil, village-like flair, we found numerous pieces of graffiti in some of the remote and hidden alleys, interestingly right at the transition from Anafiotika to the other districts. Clear political messages and symbolism at the entrance? This street art is often referred to as illegal vandalism and associated with anarchist attitudes.

From this perspective, Anafiotika is indeed an anarchistic island in the big city. When Athens became the capital in the 19th century, a flurry of building activity began. Workers were needed but often couldn’t find anywhere to live. Craftsmen from the Cyclades settled on the then undeveloped, steep slope of the Acropolis hill and simply built their own houses without permission. Tolerated ever since and without formal claim to ownership, subsequent residents have formed a resilient, village-like community and defied several threats of demolition. Today, the district is one of the city’s tourist attractions.

Before we had to return to the hotel and set off in time to meet our friends, I really wanted to see the most famous sight – the Acropolis – in the light of this glorious evening sun. So, from the Anafiotika district, we followed the road westwards, staying at the same height. We soon passed the ascent from Monastiraki Square, where it became increasingly busy. Finally, we reached the Areopagus. Sitting on its warm rocks, we – along with many other tourists – marvelled at the magnificent panoramic view of the vast sea of Athenian houses in the soft evening light. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay until sunset, which would surely be sensational here. However, twilight on our hotel’s roof terrace was no less spectacular.