So we finally found our hotel, and instead of letting our kids crash like they wanted to, we had to drag them out again because of the one and only chance to see The Acropolis and all that. It’s now 2pm. I ask the vague front desk guy how we get there, and he shows us on the map how to get to the Metro station, informs us we should get off at Monosteraki, and assures us The Acropolis is “very close”. Well, after getting off the train, we walked around for 10 minutes looking for signs or maps to guide us, but no luck, so we just started walking. We could see it, but it was not “very close” and it was very high up, and there didn’t seem to be any clear path.
I would say we waked about a mile, winding in and out of little streets lined with taverna and people selling their wares – all for half price apparently. But no signs. And the ones we did see were so completely covered in graffiti they were impossible to read. In fact, almost everything was covered in graffiti in Athens.
Anyway, after a couple of hours of circling The Acropolis, we had still not found a way in, and every time I asked someone, they just gesticulated and said Acropoli, like, you can’t miss it…
As you can imagine, the kids are starting to lose it. We haven’t had a meal since the previous day, they were exhausted, sticky, hot, and thirsty. So, we basically gave up, sat down at a street cafe, and shared a big Greek taster plate. The kids said they wouldn’t eat, and we didn’t even feel hungry – too hot I think. But when it came, we ate! It was delicious, and it revived us enough that we were able to trudge back to the subway and get back to our hotel.
Turns out, The Acroplolis closed at 2:30 on that particular day. A fact nobody bothered to tell us.
And the hotel air conditioning didn’t work. We had a few tears that night. They wanted to go home. And who can blame them? What a frustrating, soul destroying kind of a day. Mairi called it The Greek Disappointment.