High heels were a mistake. On the way to the Acropolis, I stumble and slip on the paving stones, which are smooth as if polished. Well, they are polished in a way, since half the world has been using them for more than two thousand years. In the end I reach the top and sit down on a flat (naturally polished) stone, wondering who may have been the first to sit here. Spread beneath me is the city - white, dense and enormous. All the four million inhabitants of the metropolis wedged between the sea and the mountains live, breathe, hurry along and work there under my feet. This is the Athens of many faces.
Athens for children
It's good to be a child in Athens. In a restaurant a lollipop somehow always lurks in the waiter's waistcoat pocket, ice-cream vendors are always ready to stroke a head when handing their goodies, and noisy children can at most expect a kind smile from the sunbathers on the benches.
The Plaka district even has two museums for children. One is a children's art exhibition displaying young people's drawings and works of art created for children. The other, a few steps away, is a 'hands-on' place, where everything can be touched and tried out - just as children love.
Athens for lovers
Lycabettus Hill, Lykavittos as the Greeks call it, is best mostly for daydreaming. At 300 metres this is the city's highest point, jutting out like a large green hat from among the tightly clinging white houses. Pallas Athena allegedly dropped the hill while passing during construction of the Acropolis. I wouldn't recommend climbing it during a date, a funicular anyway takes you to the top and reaching the lower terminus is already quite a sporting achievement on a date, what with all the steps in Ploutarhou Street. What awaits you at the top of the hill is romanticism itself, especially in the early evening when the city is already lit but the outlines of the buildings still appear mysteriously. The Acropolis faces us. In the distance is the sea, the city is below and Saint George's chapel is behind. There is a long, three-decilitre glass of frappe in front of us, which they prepare in the café. All you need is the feel of your sweetheart's hand.
Athens for sportspeople
Perhaps I should have started with this. After all, this is the birthplace of the Olympic Games - a more humane and noble method for resolving the contest among nations has not been discovered since. The stadiums built of wood were replaced by marble and iron structures, such as the Panathinaikon Stadium opposite the National Park. The horse-shoe shaped white marble stadium was built for the first Olympic Games of modern times at the end of the 19th century and it's not difficult to imagine the athletes competing here exactly 110 years ago, in place of the joggers climbing over the fence. A century later Athens rose to the occasion when preparing for its second Olympics. The Irini underground stop is still marked with five rings on information boards - the Olympic stadium was built here four years ago amidst many voices which were doubtful, even malevolent, though there were also those who crossed their fingers for it. It was finally completed and not badly at that. The complex behind the fan-like entrance is imposing even when empty. You can almost feel the atmosphere of those two weeks four years ago when the stadium, deserted now, teemed with contestants and spectators. It's not only the stadium which is a legacy of the Olympics. There are renovated hotels, roads made fit for traffic and cultural centres, not to mention a truly 21st-century underground system serving the whole city from the airport to the suburbs. And there's something else - a more accepting, informal Athens where it's good to arrive as a tourist.
Athens for art lovers
Athens is a synonym of culture. The presence and sight of the Acropolis itself defines the city's ambience. The sudden appearance of the Parthenon at the end of a small narrow street is an incomparable experience; or the ancient Agora where people gathered not only to judge and teach but also to shop at the market and gossip. The bustle has shifted only a little bit today - hardly do you step beyond the old stones of the Agora and you are immediately confronted by restaurants, traders, cafes and shops. Assembling, or 'agoraing' is a kind of human passion which doesn't easily disappear. Then there is the Temple of Zeus, originally built with 17 columns. It was the largest temple of ancient Greece. The 15 columns still standing today allow you to appreciate what a monumental architectural miracle it must have been in its day. Incidentally, these remaining columns must be looked after not only for archeological reasons. Following the destruction of the two missing columns fatal epidemics broke out in the city - legend has it that evil is let loose by anyone destroying a column. It's best to keep such matters in mind. Otherwise, art treasures are not only found in museums. In fact, Athens is practically one big museum. There are architectural exhibitions at underground stations, even at the airport. What can you expect of a place where even a tram terminus is called Aristotle?
Athens for me
After all this, what is left for me? Well, the orange trees yielding their fruit for all and sundry in almost all the streets of Athens - even after a few days you can't get bored with the spectacle of oranges rolling under the trees. The Kolonaki district where my first thought among the sophisticated, elegant shops and appealing restaurants is: "How nice it must be to live here." The piles of doughnuts on the street traders' stalls - soft and fresh, leaving you with a white moustache. Perhaps the kombolois, the short string of colourful beads which nearly every Greek man has in his hand. They wind them, roll them and count them. The huge tassels on the wooden clogs of the soldiers guarding the memorial to the Unknown Soldier. And of course, the small narrow streets at the foot of the Acropolis where you feel you are dropping in the locals' living rooms, let alone in their gardens, and where - were it not for the occasional black arrows painted on the walls with the word Acropolis - you would be greatly embarrassed at having lost your way so indiscreetly. But this is the right place. These small, whitewashed houses represent perhaps the most amiable aspect of the city - of course, strictly in sensible shoes.
Anna Nagy