Florence, Italy: Athens (The Plaka)

The Plaka, not to be confused with the enemy of the world’s dentists, is an area near the Acropolis with shops and taverns (the Greek equivalent of an Italian ristorante). It’s also a five minute walk from my hotel, which is VERY close to the Acropolis.

The Hotel Philippos is a three-star hotel that definitely beats the camping village I stayed at in Venice. My room, with a queen sized bed (the first bed of the trip — besides at the hospital — where my feet don’t hang over the edge) also has a balcony with a chair for relaxing in the afternoon sun. Add a nicely tiled bathroom and an included breakfast buffet each morning and I can see why this hotel is highly recommended.

After checking into the hotel, I did a self-led walking tour of the Plaka and the nearby area. I’m going to need to spend at least an afternoon in the Plaka later this week in order to appreciate everything. It took me long enough to read the names that with some of them I didn’t even figure out what they did/sold.

I eventually stopped and had dinner at the Taberna Vizantine. My outdoor table overlooking the lights of the Plaka at night was picturesque. Not picturesque enough, however, for me to take out my camera. I was too busy soaking in the Greek culture (and words) to worry about that.

Often times when I have an ethnic type of food in the States, it doesn’t even approach the quality and freshness of having it in the native culture. Italian is definitely that way. I’m pleased to announce that the handful of times I’ve had Greek food in the States were all authentic. Tonight I had spanakopita (a spinach and cheese appetizer layered into a pastry), roasted pork with roasted potatoes, and a beer brewed in Athens (‘Alpha’). While the beer definitely doesn’t match up to my favorite German or American ones, the rest of the meal was intoxicating. I was so full at the end that I couldn’t order my favorite dessert …

Baklava – the dessert with two pronunciations. This pastry with multiple layers of honey and chopped nuts is definitely a treat. When I’d ordered it two weeks ago at a Turkish kebab place in Florence, they had no idea what I was talking about. I had to point it out and explain in Italian which one I was wanting. I said it the way I’d learned it — Baklava (with the accent on the first ‘a’). When I pointed, they said “oh, you mean Baklava (with the accent on the second ‘a’). Ironically they said that in English when I’d spoken Italian; I can’t really fool people. The nice thing tonight: I found my redemption. Greeks pronounce it the way I learn it. The pronunciation must have just been one of the few things that the Greeks and Turks didn’t agree on during the Ottoman Empire’s rule. 😉

Tomorrow is the Acropolis in the morning and then the Agora and Plaka in the afternoon.