Our day began with a 3½-hour drive from Costa Navarino back to Athens, courtesy of our trusty driver, David—the same calm and capable presence who brought us here from the capital just last week. This return marks the final leg of our Greek journey, a short but meaningful stop before we board our flight home and bring this unforgettable adventure to a close.
But the story isn’t quite over yet—there’s still a little more magic left in this journey.
Once we arrived in Athens, we checked back into the Hotel Grande Bretagne. After settling into our room, we enjoyed lunch at the Winter Garden City Lounge, a refined an elegant space in the hotel. Later, braving the afternoon heat, we ventured out for a bit of shopping in the city. I picked up some local honey and olive oil—simple, flavorful gifts that carry the essence of Greece.
Later in the afternoon around 4, we met up with Eleni, our local guide, who led us on a skillful and insightful tour of the Acropolis Museum, and then the Acropolis.
To beat the afternoon heat, Eleni began our visit at the Acropolis Museum, where we spent a considerable amount of time absorbing the rich history and insights she shared. The museum itself is a minimalist architectural masterpiece, designed by architects Bernard Tschumi and Michael Photiadis. The museum is a kind of temple, not of worship, but of memory, light, and cultural identity. It bridges the ancient and the modern worlds, the local and the universal, the seen and the missing.
The ground floor, made of transparent glass, is elevated above an active archaeological excavation, offering a glimpse into ancient Athenian life below. The middle level is a double-height, open-plan space flooded with natural light, where Archaic-era statues are displayed in the round, much as they once stood in sanctuaries and temples. The top floor is the architectural highlight: a glass-enclosed rectangular gallery, rotated exactly 23 degrees to align with the orientation of the Parthenon above. Matching the temple’s dimensions, this space allows the Parthenon friezes to be displayed in its original sequence and scale—a powerful evocation of the monument’s former glory.
One of the most disturbing realities we confronted was learning just how extensively the monuments of the Acropolis have been plundered—and how many of these treasures now sit in museums outside of Greece. Lord Elgin of England, for example, committed what can only be described as wholesale theft, removing significant portions of the Parthenon and other structures. To this day, the British Museum refuses to return these pieces, which do not rightfully belong to it. In fact, the Acropolis Museum was forced to go to England to make casts of the very sculptures that were taken from this site—replicas of what should be displayed here in their rightful home.
On top of the Parthenon, many of the original architectural elements have been replaced with high-quality reproductions, while the originals are kept in the museum. This is part of an ongoing restoration and preservation efforts.
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Once we left this spectacular museum for the Acropolis, we stepped back into the Athenian sun, still processing all we had seen.
As Eleni led us to the Acropolis, our first stop was the Odeon of Herodes Atticus (Herodeon), an open-air theater built into the southwest slope of the Acropolis, dating back to 161 CE. Remarkably, this ancient venue is still in use today, hosting concerts and performances—even as it undergoes careful restoration work.
The walk up to the Acropolis is both humbling and exhilarating. The marble steps—worn smooth and uneven from centuries of footfall—glint in the sun, making careful footing essential. Around us, the wind carries echoes of the past, rustling through the olive trees and whistling between the columns that crown the hill. As we climb higher, the modern city of Athens begins to fall away, replaced by a growing sense of awe and anticipation. The gleaming columns of the Propylaea, the monumental gateway, slowly come into view, standing as a grand threshold to the sacred plateau above. Each step feels like a passage through time—closer to the gods, closer to the cradle of Western civilization.
Eleni guides us skillfully through the growing crowds, always seeming to find the perfect pocket of calm—whether to share insight, to step out of the sun, to capture the best photos (many of which she kindly takes for us), or simply to pause and observe. The value of having Eleni with us cannot be overstated; her presence elevates every moment, transforming a visit into a learning experience, rather than an uninformed visit swallowed in the masses.
Once on the plateau, it’s hard not to simply stand in awe — rooted in place by the sheer magnitude of history, beauty, and meaning. The marble gleams in the sun, the columns stretch skyward with a quiet authority, and all around, Athens spills out below in a sea of white. Up here, time seems to collapse: gods and philosophers, warriors and worshippers, all sharing the same sacred ground. It’s not just a view — it’s a feeling, a presence, something both grand and deeply personal.
We made our way back down from the heights of the Acropolis, the golden light of late afternoon casting long shadows on the marble steps. Back at the hotel, we say our goodbyes to David and Eleni—with gratitude and affection. Their presence enriched our journey in ways we won’t soon forget.
We are just one dinner away from saying goodbye to this remarkable country. Over that final meal, at the famed Roof Top Garden of the Grande Bretagne, we take time to reflect—sharing stories, memories, and laughter from the past weeks of our Greek journey. Every experience was made richer by sharing it with our close friends, Charles and Rushton. We will miss Greece—its beauty, its history, its warmth.
Back in hotel room, we pack our things and brace for the early wake-up call. At 4:30 AM, the car arrives to take us to the airport. Just like that, our journey comes to an end.
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