The Alpha Beat

So Christmas came and went, and as the magic dust settled and the inflatable Santa and fairy lights were fiendishly hidden in the loft once more, I was left with the question: what now? It was January and the days were gloomy. People looked distressed. They gave an impression that they'd just been shot in the buttocks by a blunt arrow, with an enormous credit card bill attached to it, and it was everyone else's fault.

"I know", I said, as I collected up the nut shells and the expired Radio Times bumper edition, "I'll go to Greece."

One of the challenges of starting an international journey from a small rock wedged between the Atlantic and the North Sea is that journeys are longer and arrivals are inevitably later. I make my now customary night-time arrival in an empty, yet gleaming Athens airport, a sliver after midnight on Sunday morning. The other passengers all confidentally strive off towards the darkness and their comfortable houses and hotel rooms. I hesitatingly rumble towards the nearest and longest bench I can find, which just happens to be right next to the main entrance. Bags off, boots off and (hopefully) sleep.

Operation Shut-eye is a resounding success and, too my relief, my possessions are still there when I awake, including the footwear. By the time I shake off sleep and swap some hard Euros for a bus ticket, the light begins to revisit us and it's intensity increases as the bus hurtles along the empty suburban streets. We pass a variety of shops, and organisations, some familiar, some more localised. The small tavernas and stores are squeezed between the giants such as H.S.B.O and B.P. Its a sort of menagerie of the unavoidables and the unpronouncables. The alphabet is different here, and it's all Greek to me.

I make it to my hostel, which is ideally located in the original part of the city, surrounded by the all things famous, and miles away from the hip bars and clubs that appeal to the youth of the place, but it's the old stuff I'm here to see, and I waste no time exchanging my bags for a map and a spring in my stride. I don't have to bounce too far to get my first glimpse of the magnificent Parthenon. Just for the record (or for those confused), the Acropolis is the natural prominent hill in the centre of the city, which forms the platform for the building of the Parthenon itself. It is a resplendent relic in an incredible position.

It's not hard to understand how inconceivable Athens would be without it. It is the marble jewel in the nation's crown, and a very imposing one at that. Back through the centuries, it would have been tastefully painted in dark blues and brilliant reds, and surrounded by statues and other lesser buildings, most of which now lie in frequent inconsolable piles of rubble around the area. Explosions, war and conflicting religious ideologies have taken their toll. However make no mistake- this place is incredible.

After a choice of paths to the top, you enter through the only admission point- The Propyla gate, passing the small Athena Nike Temple, before you arrive at the Athena Temple. It's big, white and grand, despite the considerable amounts of modern day scaffolding that now supports it. Completed in 438 B.C, it's primary function was worship and you can believe ancient Grecians looking up to it in wonder and reverence- "Doom to those who do not tremble below me!"

Sunday is free day and all the barriers along the various entrance paths remain up. It certainly gives the site a more local feel as numerous Greeks take advantage of the offer. Couples, families and dog walkers all flock in and join the throng of international jet setters. The company is very relaxed and you don't feel hemmed in in any sense. I loiter for a while taking pictures (sometimes with my own camera) and taking in the view of the capital before wandering down the walkway on a gorgeous, fresh winter's morning. At the bottom, on the south side, there are a number of other well preserved or reconstructed buildings, such as odeums, theatres and sanctuaries. I find it very easy to drift back in time and see the proclamations and plays, the verve of the toga attired crowds.

The nearby (and clearly new) Parthenon Museum is another fine piece of architecture. It houses a lot of the small objects and relics found on the site over the years. On the top floor, there is a clever designed wall display, which is the exact dimensions of the main temple. On this are all the available pieces of the Bas relief frieze that ran originally ran around the temple itself. You get a wonderful window into how it would have looked to 2000 year old eyes. Sadly, international archaeological theft helps ensure you can't see it all. Fortunately, one of the biggest perpetrators-Thomas Bruce, or Lord Elgin-doesn't sound too Scottish, does he??

Back at the hostel, I meet a couple of Finnish guys who are in Athens for the beer and the thrash metal concerts. The bigger of the two is a thrash metal singer/screamer and absolutely looks the part with the beard and the hair. Tho other is a very meek looking librarian- quite a combination. They're good company and, as we both had plans for the football tonight, we go together. Panathinaikos are currently playing in the Olympic Stadium, and even though football should never be played in non- football stadiums, we get a great look at the athletics venue from 2004. My European curse of always backing the losing home team is lifted, as the Athenians record a comfortable win in front of a very empty looking arena. The guy selling the nuts looks exactly like Joe Pesci, so I comfortably resist the temptation to shout "Hey, go get your shoeshine box."

The long, yet ultra smooth Metro trip ultimately sees things concluded with a beer at the hostel bar. A very good first day.