The Anarchist
I could tell you about our walking tour around Athens to see some of its many ruins and the fascinating history or mythology surrounding the ancient structures. I could also tell you about our stay on the Greek island of Rhodes, where we lived on a sunny rooftop terrace and sped around in a tiny Toyota Aygo to visit postcard perfect Lindos, a whitewashed town climbing a hill from the Mediterranean Sea, presided over by a 14th century castle atop an acropolis. I could tell you about all those sites, but it is much easier if you Google them. Instead, I will tell you about the neighbourhood in which we spent three nights: Exarchia, the countercultural island in downtown Athens, home of Greece's anarchists.
We were fresh off a 30-hour transit from home and alighted the airport bus service into the centre of Athens. Navigating the way to our accommodation, we were allowed a sample of the hustle and bustle typifying big cities, and as we crossed street after street, we noted the increase in graffiti the further we walked. Little did we know that we would be staying downtown, in an area historically known to house vocal anarchists, hippies, and bohemians. Neoclassical row houses faced each other over gently shaded paved laneways where old men in hats and vests were probably discussing politics. Around them, each wall wore some form of countercultural expression: red posters in mysterious Greek lettering with the anarchy symbol stamped in the corner, graffiti slogans condemning FIFA, many crying, "Fuck the police!", and large, bold murals of differing artistic styles. Expensive coffee was served out of cafes by tattooed men with perfect undercut hairstyles, leather boots, and turned up jean cuffs, and retro music shops selling vinyl records were reminders of a different time. This was Exarchia, the neighbourhood that flipped societal norms the bird, and organised protests from their triangular square, sometimes leading to violent or deadly clashes with police. In 2008, a 15-year old boy was murdered by a cop, inciting city-wide riots against police brutality that spread across Greece’s major cities. We paid a visit to the intersection in the heart of Exarchia that continues to serve as his shrine, a mark in local history that sees the police unwelcome in the neighbourhood to this day.
We were fresh off a 30-hour transit from home and alighted the airport bus service into the centre of Athens. Navigating the way to our accommodation, we were allowed a sample of the hustle and bustle typifying big cities, and as we crossed street after street, we noted the increase in graffiti the further we walked. Little did we know that we would be staying downtown, in an area historically known to house vocal anarchists, hippies, and bohemians. Neoclassical row houses faced each other over gently shaded paved laneways where old men in hats and vests were probably discussing politics. Around them, each wall wore some form of countercultural expression: red posters in mysterious Greek lettering with the anarchy symbol stamped in the corner, graffiti slogans condemning FIFA, many crying, "Fuck the police!", and large, bold murals of differing artistic styles. Expensive coffee was served out of cafes by tattooed men with perfect undercut hairstyles, leather boots, and turned up jean cuffs, and retro music shops selling vinyl records were reminders of a different time. This was Exarchia, the neighbourhood that flipped societal norms the bird, and organised protests from their triangular square, sometimes leading to violent or deadly clashes with police. In 2008, a 15-year old boy was murdered by a cop, inciting city-wide riots against police brutality that spread across Greece’s major cities. We paid a visit to the intersection in the heart of Exarchia that continues to serve as his shrine, a mark in local history that sees the police unwelcome in the neighbourhood to this day.
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