Today, most of them are invisible – diverted into underground channels or filled in – but their traces remain beneath the city’s streets, in archaeological remains, and in place names that carry the memory of flowing water.

Attica, a plain surrounded by mountains, was historically a place where waters converged. Mile after mile of brooks, streams, and rivers crossed the area between Parnitha, Penteli, and Hymettos. Then came the concrete and the asphalt. It is estimated that more than 300 miles of waterways have been diverted underground to the present day.

Rivers that turned into streets

Many of today’s central streets and avenues in Athens were laid out along the natural courses once carved by rivers and streams. Excavations have shown that most of the city’s modern streets conceal a filled-in streambed or an underground river. Studies indicate that in 1945, the open waterways had a total length of about 800 miles. Toda,y only 270 miles remain – a dramatic decline.

Yet, despite so much having been lost, traces of old Athens still endure – and some can still be experienced. The hidden rivers are only one part of the city’s many secrets:

🎧 Athens in your headphones – a journey at your own pace

With our audio guide on VoiceMap you can experience Athens in a new way. The tour leads you through the city’s hidden layers – its tucked-away alleys, overlooked buildings, and stories rarely found in guidebooks. You set the pace yourself: follow the route on the ground in Athens with the app as your companion, or listen as a virtual walk wherever you are.

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In the 1950s, during the era of the so-called antiparochi, and later for the sake of car traffic, rivers were treated as obstacles rather than as parts of the Attic landscape.*

* Antiparochi (αντιπαροχή): the post-war system that shaped Athens, in which landowners allowed developers to build apartment blocks on their plots in exchange for a number of the finished flats.

According to figures often repeated in the Greek press, the numbers speak for themselves: after World War II, about 25 percent of the Athens basin was covered by roads and buildings. After 1975, that share had risen to 75 percent.

Kifissos – from myth to motorway

Kifissos, flowing west of Athens, is the largest and best-known river of Attica. Ancient authors mentioned it more than two thousand years ago. For the Athenians of antiquity, Kifissos was sacred – a source of life for the great, fertile plain.

Like several other rivers, Kifissos was personified in mythology by a god of the same name. He was counted among the lesser deities of Attica, an allegorical figure of the river itself – at times praised for the water he brought to the fertile plain, at other times feared for the floods he could unleash.

Along its course also lay Elaionas, the wide area of Athenian olive groves, where the waters of Kifissos irrigated the trees that produced the highly prized local olive oil, one of the city’s most important exports in antiquity.

The Sacred Way, Iera Odos, crossed the Kifissos on its route to Eleusis, and several remains from antiquity can still be seen today – now wedged in between industrial complexes, warehouses, and busy highways.

In modern times, Kifissos has become associated with the motorways and industrial zones that follow its course. Large sections of the river have been channelled, and its waters are burdened by the city’s pollution. Today, the Kifissos riverbed is considered one of the major open environmental problems of the Athens basin.

Ilissos – the stream of philosophy and nymphs

The Ilissos rises on Mount Hymettus and flows along the eastern edge of Athens. Its current is at its strongest in winter and spring. For the Athenians of antiquity, it was a sacred river. Along its banks stood altars dedicated to many gods. Here, the Lesser Mysteries (Mikra Mysteria) were held – sacred rites connected both to the Great Mysteries of Eleusis and to Dionysian ceremonies. By the Ilissos were also sanctuaries of the Nymphs and of Pan, and Plato has Socrates hold dialogues by the stream.

Ilissos, the largest of today’s hidden rivers of Athens, once flowed outside the ancient city walls and was crossed by several bridges, of which only one survives today. The others were destroyed when the Ilissos was led underground in the 1930s. This took place under the dictatorship of Metaxas, who is said to have marked the beginning of the covering with the symbolic words: “Here we bury the Ilissos.”

Yet traces of the river remain in the urban landscape. The arched bridge built by King Otto still stands, even though it is now itself overbuilt by busy motorways.

Right next to King Otto’s bridge stands a well-preserved rock relief of the god Pan. Here, too, the church of Agia Foteini was built, beside the ancient spring of Kallirrhoe. On the small island of Vatrachonisi – the “Frog Island” – where the river splits into branches, the vegetation still grows thick, a last glimpse of the green belt that once lined the stream. It was at Vatrachonisi that the Ilissos formed rapids and small waterfalls, sacred and widely celebrated in antiquity. We have written about these places in our series The Secret Athens →

But the stream is not entirely lost: today it can still be followed underground. Together with the Alter Exploring Team, we have walked through the subterranean passages of the Ilissos, all the way down towards Kallithea.

Eridanos – a small stream with a long history

Eridanos is a relatively small stream, but it has played an important role in the history of Athens. Its source lies on Mount Lycabettus, and it crosses the city on its way to Kerameikos, where it can still be seen above ground. From there, it follows the Sacred Way, Iera Odos, before eventually joining the Kifissos. Along its course in antiquity, both houses and workshops developed, and the stream soon became an integral part of everyday life in Athens.

Gradually, the Eridanos disappeared beneath fill and construction. However, today it can still be seen in two places: in the archaeological site of Kerameikos, where a two-meter-wide stretch of its bed has been uncovered, and at Monastiraki. There it first appears outside on the square, somewhat inconspicuously behind a fence, and then inside the station behind a sloping glass wall. Here, other finds are also displayed, brought to light during the construction of the new Metro station in the 1990s.

Forgotten streams with peculiar names

In addition to the Kifissos, Ilissos, and Eridanos, the city was historically crossed by many other waterways. Some had their sources on Lycabettus, others in the Tourkovounia hills to the northeast, and they carried their waters through the areas that today form the very heart of the city.

One of these streams is the Podoniftis – the “Foot Washer” – with its sources on Mount Penteli, north of Athens. It still flows above ground for about four kilometers. We have traced the Podoniftis before in our own explorations →

Other ancient streams included the Voidopniktis – literally the “Ox Drowner” – and the Kyklovoros, whose peculiar name still puzzles linguists. They once flowed where we now walk along well-known streets such as Stadiou and Akadimias, or through today’s densely built-up districts like Patisia and Kypseli. The names that remain are reminders that Athens was once a network of rivers, brooks and streams that gave life to the Attic landscape.

Uncovering – visions and risks

There is sometimes talk of Athens reclaiming its rivers, of freeing them from the concrete and making them visible again. Advocates point out that reopening waterways could reduce the risk of flooding, create new green recreational spaces, and restore access to a more natural urban environment.

According to the European Environment Agency, restored urban streams can strengthen biodiversity and improve water quality. They can also help lower temperatures in densely built-up areas – the so-called urban heat island effect, when the city becomes warmer than its surroundings due to asphalt and concrete. At the same time, they can bring social and economic benefits – from health and quality of life to investment, tourism, and rising property values.

But behind the vision of open waterways lies an inconvenient reality that cannot be ignored. Many of Athens’ streams were covered over to protect the public from sewage and other sanitary risks. According to serious voices in the debate, these problems must be solved first – otherwise reopening risks becoming a danger rather than a gift.

The river network of Attica

Sources

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Hidden attractions in Athens

Athens is a city built in layers – marked by ancient civilizations, hard-won conquests, shifting beliefs, and the daily rhythms of life that still pulse through its streets today. Its buildings and alleys echo with the presence of many eras: Archaic and Classical Athens, the Hellenistic period, Roman occupation, a thousand years of Byzantine rule, Ottoman domination, Frankish control, the 19th-century War of Independence, and finally, the formation of the modern Greek state.

Sometimes, these layers are easy to spot – a marble column built into a later wall, a hidden courtyard tucked behind a noisy street. Other times, they lie buried, waiting to be uncovered by those who know where to look.

But Athens is not a museum. It is a living city, where past and present continuously intertwine. The same streets once walked by philosophers and revolutionaries now bustle with cafés, shops, and everyday Athenian life. Every step through Athens is a step across centuries.

Ancient aqueduct in the National Garden

Our first stop today, through lesser-known attractions in Athens, is the aqueduct of Pisistratus, built in the 6th century BCE, which still irrigates the central city park – the National Garden. We begin our walk at the park’s northern entrance, along Vasilissis Sofias Avenue.

Just a few steps from the park’s northern entrance on Vasilissis Sofias Avenue, you’ll find a small pond after roughly 65 feet. It may look quiet and unassuming, but it holds a fascinating secret: this is where water from an ancient aqueduct gathers before flowing onward to nourish the garden’s lush greenery.

This remarkable structure, known as the Peisistratos Aqueduct, dates back to the 6th century BCE and remains in operation today. It runs underground for about 4 miles at a depth of 30 – 40 feet. The aqueduct begins at the base of Mount Hymettos, the striking mountain range east of Athens, and follows the natural contours of the land toward the city center.

The pond also marks the garden’s highest point. From here, the water is directed into a branching system that irrigates the park’s trees and vegetation. It’s a quiet yet tangible link between ancient Athens and the modern metropolis.

Ancient remnants in the National Garden

The National Garden is truly a peaceful green space amid the city’s bustle – an oasis and a place to breathe in modern Athens. But the site also has deep historical roots. Already in antiquity, the philosopher and botanist Theophrastus had a private garden here. In the mid-19th century, a royal park was established on the same site at the initiative of Queen Amalia. At that time, it was known as the Royal Garden.

Today, known as the National Garden, it is a lush public refuge filled with winding paths, tall palm trees, and an unexpectedly rich birdlife – open to all, every day of the year.

To reach the next stop on our tour, we need to walk through the entire garden, from the northern pond to one of the southern exits. There, in a somewhat hidden corner, nestled among several other Roman remnants, lies a rather overlooked monument.

It is a massive architrave, a marble beam that for centuries adorned Hadrian’s great reservoir at Dexameni Square in Kolonaki. In the first part of our series, we explored the area around Dexameni, where this architrave once stood in its original place.

At the end of the 18th century, it was removed from its original location by the Ottoman ruler Hatzis Ali Haseki, who used parts of ancient monuments as building material for his defensive wall.

This particular marble block was then installed as a decorative top element above one of the wall’s seven city gates – the so-called Boubounistra Gate. After the Greek War of Independence, when the wall was torn down, it was eventually placed in its current location in the National Garden, without any form of signage. In the 19th century, it was common for ancient fragments to be reused as ornamental features in gardens, in a spirit of romanticism and decoration.

The marble architrave bears a Latin inscription stating that the aqueduct in Athens was begun by Emperor Hadrian and later completed and inaugurated by his adopted son, Antoninus Pius.

Hadrian’s Athens

Nearly two thousand years ago, Athens stood at the threshold of a dramatic transformation. The city was already ancient, but Emperor Hadrian sought to breathe new life into it. A devoted philhellene – a lover of Greek culture – Hadrian, though a conqueror, saw Athens as the cultural capital of the East, a place where Roman power and Hellenic heritage could converge.

During his reign, a new district rose in Athens, filled with monumental buildings, libraries, and grand residences for the city’s aristocracy. The era of Pax Romana became a golden age of architecture for the city, and no one played a greater role in reshaping it than Hadrian himself. He financed and oversaw many of the major projects – among them Hadrian’s Arch and the long-delayed completion of the great Temple of Olympian Zeus.

We’ve explored the temple and shared some of the lesser-known stories of the Olympieion in a previous article.

Now, we leave those iconic landmarks behind and make our way toward our next stop: King Otto’s arched stone bridge over the Ilisos River, today hidden beneath one of the busiest intersections in modern Athens.

The arch bridge over Ilisos

If you walk around the entire archaeological site of the Olympieion and follow the fence along its southern side, you’ll come out onto Athanasiou Diakou Street. Continuing along that road, you’ll soon reach one of the city’s busiest intersections, where several major thoroughfares converge.

Well hidden beneath the busy traffic of this intersection lies a stone arch bridge, built in the mid-1800s on the initiative of King Otto, Greece’s first monarch. It once spanned the Ilisos River – one of Athens’ largest waterways.

Today, the river runs underground, but the remaining channel has been overtaken by nature: dense, almost impenetrable vegetation spreads like a small, tangled jungle in the heart of the city. The central section of the riverbed is still known as Vatrachonisi/Frog Island – even though it’s no longer an island in the true sense. In ancient times, Frog Island was a sacred place where many gods, demigods, and nymphs were worshipped.

Relief of the God Pan

Just past the bridge, a small paved walkway branches off to the left, leading down into the overgrown riverbed. The small Orthodox chapel located there today is dedicated to Saint Photini. In ancient times, the sacred spring of Kallirhoe flowed nearby – its waters believed to be holy. The courtyard in front of the chapel is a great place to sit for a while and escape the roar of traffic just above.

About halfway down the walkway toward Agia Foteini, a barely visible path breaks off to the right, cutting through the vegetation and heading straight toward the cliff face. A sign indicates that the hollow in the rock was once a cult site dedicated to the god Pan. Numerous artifacts have been found here to support that interpretation.

Carved into the rock face is an ancient relief of the god Pan – still visible today, though hard to spot unless you know exactly where to look. In my experience, it’s easiest to make out when the afternoon sun hits the cliff from the west, casting shadows that bring out the contours. Time and city pollution have worn heavily on the original carving, and it’s worth noting that the entire cliff was once nearly demolished to widen the road above. It was only thanks to the persistent efforts of local archaeologists that the decision was reversed at the last moment.

To reach the next stop on our route through lesser-known attractions in Athens, we’ll need to cross over to the other side of the city center. We’ll walk through Plaka and Monastiraki, then follow Athinas Street toward Omonia Square – until we reach Athens’ Central Market.

Varvakios Agora – Athens Central Market

Athens Central Market, known as Varvakios Agora, is a bustling hub of commerce in the heart of the city. It first opened in 1886 and has been operating ever since. The air here is thick with the scents of spices, fresh fish, meat, cheese, fruit, and warm bread, blending with the shouts of vendors and the chatter between loyal customers and curious passersby.

During holidays – especially Easter – the market teems with Athenians stocking up for celebratory meals, reflecting the city’s vibrant food culture. The area around the market is equally lively, with small shops and stalls selling everything from dried fruit and nuts to soaps, baskets, and kitchen tools – offering an authentic glimpse into everyday life in Athens.

St. John on the Column

Not far from the meat and fish halls, right in the heart of the market district on Evripidou Street, stands the small chapel of Agios Ioannis tis Kolonas – St. John on the Column. A single ancient Corinthian column rises straight through the roof, making this spot a truly unique feature in the cityscape.

The chapel is believed to be around 1,500 years old, built on the ruins of an earlier temple dedicated to Asclepius, the god of healing. Even into modern times, visitors have tied colored threads around the column, secured with wax – a ritual performed in hope of relief from fever and illness. A hidden, sacred little chapel nestled in an area that, until the 19th century, was mostly farmland and open fields.

Beyond the city center

From King Otto’s stone bridge, the Ilisos River continues its journey underground all the way to its mouth in Faliro, near Piraeus. As shown in the video below, the Greek Expedition joined a striking and thrilling exploration beneath the Greek capital’s roads and buildings. The underground tour was organized in collaboration with the Alter Exploring Team, led by speleologist and civil engineer Panagiotis Deuteraios.

Athens behind the facades

The Ilisos River may be hidden today, but it still whispers beneath the city – quietly, unnoticed, yet never entirely silent. Like other traces we’ve followed on this tour, it remains beneath the surface – a reminder that Athens isn’t just something you see, but something you gradually uncover, layer by layer.
And perhaps it’s in the quiet in-between spaces – where history isn’t marked or signposted – that you come closest to the city itself.

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For years, we had heard people describe how oddly touching it felt to lay your towel on ancient marble and swim near pillars and relics from another time. The site remained completely open to the public until quite recently – and in many ways, it still is.

When we arrived, we were struck by how closely the reality matched the stories: the turquoise bay, the light, the crystal-clear water, and the quiet sense of freedom in a sacred landscape from ages past. Some parts are now cordoned off – a simple rope in a few places – but the little harbor remains open to small boats, the path down to the temple has been improved, and the old feeling of openness still lingers. This is a place where myth, the everyday, and the sea still meet. But perhaps not for much longer.

Heraion – history

Heraion is located at the westernmost tip of the Perachora Peninsula, overlooking the Gulf of Corinth and the historic sea routes along the northern coast of the Peloponnese. The site was a sanctuary dedicated to the goddess Hera and gradually became one of the most important places of worship in the region. The sanctuary itself lies in a sheltered bay just below the Melagavi lighthouse – a landmark that still guides maritime traffic today: southbound vessels toward the Corinth Canal, and northbound toward the Alkyonides Islands.

The first temple

As early as the Geometric period, around 900–700 BCE, the site was used for religious rituals. A first temple was likely built during the following Archaic period, when the area began to develop into one of the most significant sacred centers in the region. This earliest temple was probably constructed by inhabitants of Argos or possibly Megara, before Corinth later established its presence in the area. The Heraion was dedicated to Hera Akraia – “Hera of the Promontory” – a name that reflects both the site’s dramatic location and the special role the goddess held here. None of the earliest structures have survived, but archaeological finds suggest that the site was considered sacred long before the later monumental sanctuary was built.

The classical sanctuary

The temple, whose ruins still stand today, was built in the 6th century BCE in the Doric style, with a rectangular floor plan and a long altar structure to the east of the inner chamber, where the cult statue once stood. The site was gradually expanded during the Classical and Hellenistic periods with courtyards, colonnades, and water reservoirs. One of the most fascinating structures is the large stoa – an arcade – on the eastern side of the bay, constructed in two levels – the lower floor with Doric columns, the upper with more slender Ionic ones. The stoa was built in the 4th century BCE, possibly by Demetrios Poliorketes – a Hellenistic ruler known for his military campaigns and large-scale building projects. On the opposite side of the bay was a partially roofed courtyard complex, believed to have burned down during the Roman campaigns of 146 BCE.

Epithets of the Goddess

The goddess Hera was worshipped here under different epithets – Akraia and Limenia, ““Hera of the Promontory” and “Hera of the Harbor” – suggesting that the sanctuary served both as a local cult site and a landmark for seafarers in the Gulf of Corinth. The small bay below the sanctuary is believed to have functioned as an ancient harbor. A bit further up in the rock was a sacred cistern where rainwater was collected. More than 200 bronze vessels have been found here, likely used in purification rituals or libations to the gods. Some researchers have suggested that Heraion may also have functioned as an oracle site.

Heraion and the myth of Medea

The connection to the underworld and ritual power is deepened by the myth of Medea. According to some versions, it was here, after leaving Corinth, that she buried her children, the ones she had killed in her fury over Jason’s betrayal. When Strabo mentions the site in the 1st century CE, he also refers to an oracle, which may reflect lingering cult practices.

During the Roman period, the area began to lose its religious significance. Private houses were built near the temple, and the sanctuary seems to have been abandoned after the destruction of Corinth in 146 BCE. In Byzantine times, a small church was built atop the ruins—dedicated to Saint John the Baptist—but was relocated during excavations in the 20th century to a nearby site east of the bay.

Much of what we know about Heraion today comes from the British excavations conducted between 1930 and 1933. The finds from the site have been crucial for our understanding of the Archaic and Geometric periods in the region, offering unique insights into early Greek religious practices, construction techniques, and artistic expression.

Lake Vouliagmeni

Not far from Heraion lies Lake Vouliagmeni. Technically, it’s not a freshwater lake in the traditional sense, but a saltwater one, known as a limnothalassa in Greek. It is connected to the Gulf of Corinth through a narrow channel. The water at the inlet changes direction approximately every six hours, a rare phenomenon also seen at the Evripos Strait near the island of Euboea. When the current flows out toward the sea, the pull becomes so strong that it takes considerable force to enter the lagoon – something that likely posed a challenge for sailors even in ancient times.

In antiquity, the lake was known as Eschatiotis or Gorgopis, and it likely originated from a prehistoric earthquake. According to geological theories, it was formed when unstable layers of earth collapsed, causing the ground to sink. Today, the area is not only scenic but also of considerable archaeological importance.

As early as 2600 BCE, a settlement existed along the lake’s southwestern shore. Finds from excavations show that the site is among the most significant prehistoric settlements in all of Greece. Notably, a grave was discovered four meters deep, containing around 20 skeletons placed irregularly alongside some 60 clay vessels – one of them made from precious stone.

Archaeologists have also identified a nearby cave system with two chambers, believed to have served as an ossuary for the prehistoric settlement.

A unique aqueduct

To meet the water needs of the Heraion sanctuary – especially during peak periods of religious use -Corinthian engineers constructed an advanced hydraulic system, perhaps the most sophisticated in ancient Greece. About 750 meters northeast of the sanctuary lay a series of water cisterns, accessible via 160 steps carved directly into the rock. At a depth of 40 meters, water was collected in shafts, tunnels, and a richly decorated fountain structure supported by six columns. Using a unique lifting mechanism, the water was drawn from the depths and brought to the surface – an engineering feat that still impresses today with its precision.

A final stop

After all this – the temples, the cliffs, the stories – it feels right to let the journey pause in something simpler. A fish taverna by the shore of Lake Vouliagmeni, where tables and chairs sit unevenly in the gravel. Plates of fish and seafood arrive, rich with the scent of the sea – some of the freshest we’ve ever tasted. And there, in the shade of a pine tree, past and present seem to exhale together, before the journey continues toward the northern reaches of the Perachora Peninsula and the Gulf of Corinth.

Sources

– Kathimerini: Corinthia – The Lake with Ancient Secrets
– Peloponnese Events (archived): The Archaeological Site of Heraion in Perachora
– Wikipedia (el): Heraion of Perachora
– Folklore Association of Perachora: The Archaeological Site of Heraion

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– Loutraki’s Thermal Springs – Where the Waters of Life Never Ceased to Flow

A living oasis of biodiversity

Podoniftis is not just a historic waterway — it’s also a thriving ecosystem. In its clear waters, fish can often be seen gliding by. Frogs rest on the stones near the banks, while herons and other water birds are frequent visitors along the shore. On spring and summer nights, the air fills with the song of nightingales, and the tiny scops owl, known as “Gionis” in Greek, can be heard hooting in the dark.

Few other places in Athens offer such a close encounter with nature’s quiet spectacle. It’s a striking contrast — between the wild, green world of Podoniftis and the noisy, urban landscape that surrounds it.

Origin and course

Podoniftis has its source on the southwestern slopes of Mount Penteli and flows through areas such as Patima, Vrilissia, Chalandri, and Filothei, before winding its way through Nea Ionia, Nea Filadelfia, and Patisia. Along its path, it has been shaped by both natural forces and human activity. Much of the stream has been covered over by urban development, but certain sections – especially between Nea Ionia and Ano Patisia – remain untouched, open, and accessible as walking trails.

Visiting Podoniftis feels like stepping into another world. Along its banks, you can hear the soft murmur of water that has flowed for thousands of years. It’s a place where time seems to stand still, where nature whispers its ancient stories to those who listen.

Near the intersection of Acharnon and Dekelias in Patisia, however, Podoniftis disappears from view once more, directed into an underground channel. From there, it continues toward Kifissos – the largest river in Attica – where it eventually merges as one of its many tributaries.

Kifissos flows both through and beneath the urban landscape of southwestern Athens, eventually emptying into the Bay of Faliro and the Saronic Gulf. During the 19th and 20th centuries, numerous industries and facilities were established along its banks, particularly in Athens’ heavy industrial zones, leading to severe pollution. Despite repeated cleanup efforts, Kifissos is still considered one of the most burdened rivers in the region. Much of its course today is flanked by major roadways dominated by asphalt, exhaust fumes, and concrete, rather than fresh air and green spaces.
More on Kifissos coming soon on our blog – right here →

Flooding and the threat of being led entirely underground

Historically, Podoniftis has been prone to flooding, especially during heavy rainfall. In 1994, Athens was hit by a severe flood in which Podoniftis overflowed its banks. Seventeen people lost their lives in the disaster, drawing attention to the stream’s risks and vulnerability.

To address these risks, additional stream sections have been covered, which, unfortunately, has resulted in the loss of many natural habitats. Today, voices call for the complete covering of Podoniftis to prevent future disasters. At the same time, several environmental organizations and local groups are fighting to preserve the stream’s open sections and its ecological value.

Administrative challenges hinder development

One reason the area around Podoniftis hasn’t been developed into a pleasant walking route, like the one along the Chalandri stream, is that it runs through four different municipalities: Athens, Nea Ionia, Nea Filadelfeia, and Nea Chalkidona. These municipalities have struggled to agree on coordinated measures to improve and maintain the area.

A stream with shifting moods

Podoniftis is not a stream that always behaves the same way. During dry periods, it flows quietly and gently, as if holding its breath. The water then moves slowly, clear and calm, almost meditative in its rhythm. But after heavy rains, it reveals a very different side.

The water can rise within just a few hours, rushing with a force that feels both alive and dangerous. The once gentle murmur turns into a roar, and the usually peaceful riverbed transforms into a thundering surge of churning, swirling water. In those moments, it becomes clear why debates over covering the stream and ensuring flood safety never fade from the local conversation. It’s as if Podoniftis wants to remind the city of its primal power, of the fact that it has been here long before the fleeting concrete.

A jungle in the heart of the city

Walking there in daylight is an experience in itself. Sunlight filters through the foliage, casting patterns of light and shadow along the banks. Small lizards bask on warm stones, while butterflies and dragonflies dance across the water’s surface. The soundscape is filled with birdsong, yet faint traffic noise in the distance reminds you just how close the city still is. The scent of damp earth and greenery is distinct, especially after rain, when the air feels heavy but fresh. It’s a place for rest, but also for discovery – especially for those who enjoy being immersed in nature.

In the first blue light of dawn, or during the reddish fade of dusk, Podoniftis takes on a tone all its own. The colors soften, contrasted by bursts of bird activity – swallows, blackbirds, and magpies shifting places in the trees. At times, mist drifts over the water, giving the landscape an almost cinematic quality. The light is gentle, and walking here often feels meditative.

Under the full moon, the still water takes on a silvery sheen, and shadows from the overgrown trees stretch across the stream like fleeting, dreamlike memories. The air grows cooler, birdsong fades, replaced by the soft calls of the scops owl, while the movement of the water becomes more pronounced, more present. It’s a place that invites contemplation — a nocturnal dialogue between human and nature, quiet and timeless in a city that otherwise never sleeps.

The name “Podoniftis” – an etymological riddle

The name “Podoniftis” is believed to derive from the Greek words pous (foot) and nipto (to wash), possibly meaning “the foot-washer.” Several theories exist: one suggests the stream was used by travelers or pilgrims to wash their feet. Another links the name to the area of Nea Ionia, which, before the arrival of refugees following the 1922 catastrophe, was known as Podaradika, a name that may have inspired the term Podoniftis

A visit worth the effort

For those who want to experience this hidden gem, the easiest way is to take the metro to Ano Patisia station and then walk west along Chalkidos Street (see map below). After a few hundred meters, a world of greenery, birdsong, and flowing water opens up — a gentle reminder of nature’s presence in the heart of the city.

Podoniftis is more than just a waterway; it is a living witness to the history of Attica and a symbol of nature’s resilience. Preserving and valuing this natural resource is essential for the ecological and cultural future of the entire region.

Getting there

Sources

• https://gexynet.com/the-stream-of-podoniftis/
• Wikipedia podoniftis
• ‘https://greektraveltellers.com/blog/the-buried-rivers-of-athens
• https://greektraveltellers.com/blog/the-buried-rivers-of-athens

Modern-day Loutraki stretches along the coastline almost to the Corinth Canal, lined with tall apartment blocks, countless hotels, wide pavements, and a constant flow of cafés, bars, and tavernas. It’s a lively and popular destination – but not a town that appeals to everyone aesthetically, especially not to those in search of charm or architectural beauty.

A spa town with grandeur

But Loutraki has another layer – a history that’s easy to overlook behind the beachfront bars. In the late 19th and early 20th century, a grand vision took shape: to create an exclusive spa resort for the upper classes, complete with elegant bathhouses and a casino that drew guests from across Europe.

Graceful buildings in neoclassical and European styles lined the town’s streets, carrying a sense of continental confidence – pillars, balustrades, domes facing the sea. Loutraki was never just a beach town. It was a spa town with elegance and grandeur.

But the splendour didn’t last. During the 20th century, Loutraki was struck by a series of devastating earthquakes that shook the town to its core, time and again. What had once been built to impress – with marble, ornamentation, and a gaze fixed on the sea – was repeatedly reduced to rubble.

Here and there along the seafront, old hotel buildings still appear – abandoned or half-restored – many of them once prime examples of eclectic architecture. They whisper of a bygone era, where faded elegance and lost pride still linger in the façades and the once-luxurious verandas overlooking the sea.

Pigi – the original spring

A few steps further along the seafront, next to the small Byzantine church dedicated to Agios Andreas – Loutraki’s patron saint – lies the true heart of old Loutraki. This site, which once formed the centre of the town’s identity as a spa resort, includes the original spring, Pigi, and the semi-circular 1930s building that surrounds it. The fact that it has now been partially restored and reopened to visitors came as a very welcome surprise on our last trip.

The building doesn’t merely house the original spring – it seems to have grown out of the rock itself. The cliff from which the spring water flows juts out into the centre of the room, surrounded by columns and mosaics, as if the architecture is honoring the very presence of nature.

The semi-circular building was designed by Leonidas Bonis and magnificently adorned with colourful mosaics by the artist Stefanos Xenopoulos from Zakynthos, together with his students.

The building was constructed between 1931 and 1934, at a time when Loutraki was rising again after the 1928 earthquake and reaffirming its role as a spa resort. Inside, where the water still trickles from the rock, lies a small pool framed by a simple, harmonious row of columns.

Splendid mosaic and ancient mythology

The vivid mosaics inside the building form a poetic tribute to water, light, and mythology. Visitors are greeted by water nymphs – Nereids – at both the entrance and the exit. Beneath the central dome, a magnificent scene unfolds: the sun god Helios, riding his four-horse chariot, sweeps across the sea while the figure of night slowly recedes.

Around the dome, the forest nymphs – Dryads – dance through a bucolic landscape filled with movement, vegetation, and music. Satyrs play their flutes, and from one side, Pan himself lets his melody drift gently into the room.

The mosaics’ vivid colour palette – with gold, blue, terracotta, and deep green tones – brings each scene to life with warmth and vibrancy. The motifs are not random: they follow a clear narrative structure – beginning, middle, and end – with nature and the healing water taking centre stage.

The thermal springs of Loutraki today: the modern thermal spa

The thermal springs of Loutraki have been the town’s lifeline for over two thousand years – from ancient Thermai to today’s modern bathing culture. The historic source, Pigi, still bears traces of another era, but the tradition lives on in a new form.

At Loutraki Thermal Spa, visitors are offered water-based therapies, massage, and relaxation in bright, contemporary settings where the mineral-rich water still takes centre stage. Here, the old meets the new – hydrotherapy and treatments rooted in an ancient tradition, adapted to today’s needs for rest, stress relief, and restored balance.

As you leave Loutraki behind and follow the road westward, another coastal site awaits – lesser known, yet with a history that also reaches back into distant times. In our next article, we visit Heraion, a somewhat forgotten sanctuary dedicated to the goddess Hera, built right by the sea, where you can swim just beside the ancient marble.

💧 Facts: The thermal springs of Loutraki

Water properties:
– Chloride-sodium composition
– Low mineral content (oligometallic)
– Slightly alkaline (pH 7.2–7.3)
– Mildly radioactive
– Temperature: 30.4–34.5 °C
– Radioactivity: 14 Mache units

Traditionally used to treat:
– Arthritis and chronic rheumatism
– Herniated discs and spondylitis
– Arteriosclerosis and high blood pressure
– Gallstones and kidney stones
– Digestive disorders, chronic constipation, and obesity
– Diabetes, chronic hepatitis, and pyelonephritis (kidney inflammation)

Sources

• Loutraki Municipal Thermal Spa
• The Greek newspaper Kathimerini about Loutraki
• Loutraki blog
• Loutraki Thermal Spa

Related articles under the category: Explorations →

We visited the Museum of Greek Folk Instruments – a small but very charming and truly fascinating museum, housed in a beautifully restored 19th-century building in the heart of Plaka. Hundreds of instruments and related materials are preserved and displayed here, telling the story of Greece’s rich musical tradition – from antiquity to the present. The museum also promotes research, education, and the dissemination of traditional Greek music in Greece and internationally.

The museum is housed in a beautifully restored neoclassical building from 1840, built by General Georgios Lassanis (1793–1870), freedom fighter, writer, and minister during Greece’s struggle for independence. Today, the building holds one of the country’s most important collections of traditional musical instruments and serves as a national center for ethnomusicological research and public education.

Greek folk instruments – a selection

Here, we present a selection of instruments from the museum’s permanent exhibition – a mix of well-known classics and lesser-documented instruments from the history of Greek music.

Tambourás – a string instrument with deep historical roots

The tambourás belongs to a family of long-necked lutes with roots in ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt. In classical Greece, this type of instrument was known as the pandoura, and in later periods, it lived on under various names and forms – such as tambourás, sázi, bouzouki, bağlama, and tambur. In Greece, the tambourás has played an important role in traditional music and is seen as a predecessor to the bouzouki and other instruments associated with the world of rebetiko.

Baglamas made from tortoise shell

The small baglamas is closely related to the bouzouki and is widely used in rebetiko music. Some older versions were made from tortoise shell – an example of how simple, natural materials were used to create instruments with a unique sound and character.

Kementzes – the Pontic lyra

The leading folk instrument among Greeks from Pontos – the historical region along the southern coast of the Black Sea – and among Pontic Greeks who arrived in Greece during the refugee movements of the 20th century. The small bridge allows the bow to play on two strings at once, creating the distinctive polyphonic sound that characterizes the Pontic musical tradition.

Gáida – the Greek bagpipe

The gáida is a traditional wind instrument played in many parts of Greece – from Thrace and Macedonia to the islands and Crete, where it is also known as tsambouna, touloumi, or askavlos. With its raw yet ornate sound, it was often played at dances and celebrations, though in many regions, it was gradually replaced by the clarinet during the 20th century.

Everyday rhythms

Improvised percussion art In Greek folk tradition, everyday objects like wooden spoons, drinking glasses, and kombolói (worry beads) have often been used as rhythm instruments – especially during spontaneous music gatherings and celebrations. A living expression of rhythm found in the body, the hands, and whatever happens to be within reach.

The museum for Greek folk instruments

The museum holds around 600 Greek musical instruments from the past 300 years – and many more are preserved in the museum’s storage collection, inaccessible to the public but a treasure trove for researchers and ethnomusicologists.

In addition to the instruments we’ve highlighted in this post, the permanent exhibition offers a rich palette of traditional instruments – some well-known, others more unexpected. Here, you can discover everything from bells and bagpipes to handcrafted lyres, flutes, and percussion instruments, among others.

• Lyres – from various parts of Greece, including the Cretan lyra
• Flutes and wind instruments – such as flogera, souravli, and the powerful zournás
• Percussion – including toumpeléki (hand drum), ntefi (tambourine), and various types of koudounia (bells)
• Lutes – such as laouto, oud, bouzouki, and baglamas
• Bagpipes – under names like áskavlos or tsambouna, depending on the region
• Rarer instruments – like lalítsa, a small traditional folk flute

Museum’s Facebook page here >>

The exhibition – more than just instruments

The exhibition offers more than just a visual overview of the instruments’ forms and materials – it also provides an audible one, through interactive stations and selected sound samples. It’s a place where you can quite literally hear the resonance of history.

The Museum of Greek Folk Instruments is also a living archive of cultural experience, movement, and sound. For anyone curious about Greece’s musical heritage or interested in how tradition and craftsmanship continue to evolve, the museum offers a rare depth. And even though many of these instruments are now played in different contexts – or not at all – they still bear witness to a deep human urge to create, to find rhythm, and to express through music, in everyday life as well as in celebration.

This post is the first in a series on Greek folk instruments here on Expedition Greece. In the coming months, we’ll explore the history and contemporary use of these instruments in more detail – both here on the blog and out in the field. More encounters, voices, and sounds await.

Related articles

Visiting a bouzouki maker >>

🔔BOOK NOW: Unique city walks in Athens | Limited spots available 📅

On our guided tours, we explore some of these places. We step in where others pass by – behind a locked gate, down a narrow staircase, through doors that seem to lead nowhere. But our steps always lead further.

We pass abandoned vaults, hidden chambers, and walls etched with mysterious markings. We experience the city from a new perspective, where the past comes alive again.

✨ Feel free to tip off someone you know who’s visiting Athens this spring! 📣

Guided tours in Athens – a sneak peek at the route

One of the places we visit is Hadrian’s water reservoir, located by the popular Dexameni Square in the Kolonaki district. The Roman emperor Hadrian, a great admirer of Greek culture, dreamed of creating a “New Athens” – Hadrian’s Athens. For that, water was essential – the lifeblood of any new city.

Nearly two thousand years later, in the 19th century, as Athens was being rebuilt as the capital of the new Greek state, the city once again faced serious water shortages. Hadrian’s old aqueduct was rediscovered almost by chance – an unexpected gift from history that would once again breathe life into the city.

We also descend beneath the surface into the catacombs of the Russian Church. There, beneath the elegant marble floor, an unassuming hatch leads down to hidden passageways and dark chambers, where history rests in silence – yet remains vividly present.

Another of our hidden stations is the remains of Themistocles’ defensive wall – surprisingly well preserved in the middle of a modern stairwell, where the contemporary building seems to have grown up around and over the ancient stonework.

Dare to descend the desolate staircase, and suddenly, the wall appears – a silent yet powerful reminder of ancient Athens’s defenses and the city’s long and layered history.

The old Gestapo detention cell is another place we visit with care. Here, the walls have been deliberately left to speak for themselves, with minimal external interference. Marks and objects bear witness to a dark chapter in modern Greek history.

In the very heart of the city, the arcades await – half-hidden, tucked-away passageways that connect central streets and neighborhoods. They’re not ancient but have been a distinctive part of Athens’ urban landscape since the post-war era.

For decades, they served as lively commercial hubs, where shops, crafts, and everyday life flowed through the covered walkways. Today, many of them are quieter, partly abandoned – yet they still carry traces of another Athens.

Along the way, we also encounter Ernst Ziller’s former residence – once a grand mansion, now a quiet reminder of the elegance that defined the city center before modernisation took hold. Ziller was a prominent architect in the late 19th century whose buildings helped shape the neoclassical Athens we still see today.

In the shadow of the urban bustle lies Frog Island (Βατραχονήσι) and the forgotten bed of the Ilissos River – a hidden oasis in the very heart of the city, where nature and the city live side by side.

Close to it, a curious relief of the god Pan appears, visible only to those who know where to look.

Another mysterious site is the so-called Split Rock, or Little Lycabettus, around which imaginative myths still circulate – even though, geologically speaking, it is considered a natural formation.

The walk will also take us past two small chapels – modest, yet significant in Greek history – and over Filopappou Hill, along the artfully crafted pathway designed by the renowned architect, Dimitris Pikionis.

Each place we visit carries its mystery, its own hidden story. Our tour isn’t about giving you all the answers but about opening doors to questions you may never have thought to ask. We move carefully, consciously, through layers of forgetting, curiosity, and respect.

The tours are designed to leave space for reflection and imagination. When you join us, you don’t just step into history – you become a part of it. It’s about seeing and sensing the pulse of Athens from a place the typical tourist eye rarely reaches.

Here, you can follow one of our city walks through the lesser-known side of Athens >>

Our tours are more than just walks. They’re slow journeys of discovery into the true soul of Athens – adventures beyond the usual tourist paths, into the city’s timeless secrets. We’re there to share our knowledge but also to give you the space to reflect on what you see.

The tours will run throughout spring 2025 – from March to June.

Questions or bookings? Get in touch: 📞 0046 722 029786 📧 contact@greekexpedition.com

More information ca be found on our booking page >>

✨ Feel free to tip off someone you know who’s visiting Athens this spring! 📣

A large part of these testimonies could have been lost if it weren’t for institutions like the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation. The foundation is a center for research and education, dedicated to promoting Greek culture both nationally and internationally. Its work covers a wide range of fields, from literature and history to maritime research and the preservation of historical documents.

Part of their digital initiative is Travelogues, a project led by historian Ioli Vingopoulou. The platform collects material from travel accounts about the Greek islands and the entire Eastern Mediterranean from the 15th century onward. Its purpose is to provide researchers and the general public with access to these unique testimonies while highlighting Greek culture and history in an international context.

For those interested in exploring further, Travelogues is also available in English: http://eng.travelogues.gr/

Travelers in the Greek Islands (1500–1900)

The travelers who journeyed through the Aegean Sea from the 16th century to the early 20th century did so for many different reasons. Some were pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, others were diplomats on missions to the Ottoman capital. Merchants sought new markets, scholars and lovers of antiquity mapped the region’s history, and from the mid-19th century onward, journeys made purely for leisure became increasingly common.

The Greek islands lay along these sea routes but did not form a unified world. Some were under Venetian or Genoese control, while others were subject to the Ottoman Empire. Regardless of the ruling power, travelers often encountered a reality that differed from their expectations. They sought the lost antiquity but also discovered a vibrant archipelago where people struggled, worked, and adapted to the conditions set by nature and history. Some islands were nearly deserted, while others thrived through trade and seafaring. Through their testimonies, we gain insight into both sides of the Greek islands in the Aegean Sea.

This article is a first glimpse into the stories and images preserved from the travelers’ time in the Greek islands. Here, we highlight selected moments and accounts that offer a sense of the world they encountered – an exploration we will delve deeper into in the upcoming parts. All material in this article is published with permission from the Laskarides Foundation.

Syros

During the 19th century, Syros underwent an incredibly dramatic transformation. From being relatively unknown among the Greek islands, it became one of the Mediterranean’s most important commercial centers. Here, East, and West converged in a bustling hub of trade and culture.

J. Emerson Tennent was an Irish politician and lawyer. His travel accounts are a blend of travel narrative and political reflections, often based on second-hand information. His work includes one of the earliest views of Syros, from a time when the island was establishing itself as an important port in the Aegean Sea.

Among the journeys he describes is the voyage aboard the steamship Francesco I, the first cruise in the Eastern Mediterranean, organized by the architect Marchebeus in 1833 and later recounted in his travel chronicle from 1839.

The work of photographer F. F. Boissonnas, from the early 20th century, was groundbreaking in the history of photography. His images of Syros and other locations unite landscapes and people in perfect harmony.

During the second half of the 19th century, Syros gained increased attention in the European press. British newspapers such as The Illustrated London News and The Graphic published detailed wood engravings depicting the island’s landscape, population, and social life. These images, based on travelers’ sketches and notes, provided a wider audience with a visual insight into both everyday life on Syros and major events in the Greek world, ranging from political upheavals to natural disasters.

Patmos

In 1801, mineralogist Edward Daniel Clarke and his travel companions visited the monastery on Patmos, where they were granted permission to enter its library. What they encountered was a chaotic collection of books and manuscripts, where dust, moths, and mold had begun to take over.

Note: The text is a summary of an extensive article in Lifo magazine about the Laskarides Foundation’s online sessions on the Greek islands before modernization.

On the shelves stood printed books, which the monks valued most, while the hand-written manuscripts lay in disordered piles on the floor. Among them, traveler Clarke made some astonishing discoveries: a forgotten Platonic dialogue, a lexicon by Cyril of Alexandria, and volumes of ancient Greek hymns, complete with early musical notation. The monks agreed to sell some of the manuscripts—but only under the condition that the transaction be kept secret from the island’s inhabitants.

But the deal did not go as planned. As the travelers’ ship was ready to set sail and the manuscripts had yet to be delivered, they believed they had been deceived. Then, a man appeared on the shore with a large basket and gave a discreet signal. A boat was sent out to him, and he called out that he was delivering bread.

Edward Daniel Clarke himself describes in detail how the exchange took place:

“The man came aboard, cast a meaningful glance at us, and said loudly, ‘The Hegumen (Prior) has ordered me to take the basket back empty, and he asks that you count the loaves to ensure they are correct.’ We understood at once. We hurried aside, overturned the basket, and to our delight found Plato’s dialogue, Cyril’s lexicon, and other manuscripts. We quickly hid them, handed back the basket along with a small bakshish (tip), and everything went exactly as we had hoped.”

However, the smuggling affair did not remain a secret. The incident caused a scandal, and as early as the following year, 1802, an inscription in hexameter verse was carved at the library’s entrance. It reads:

“Within lie brilliant manuscripts.
To the wise man, they are more precious than gold.
Therefore, preserve them with the greatest care,
More than your own life.
For thanks to these writings, the monastery has become radiant.”

A Danish woman on Sikinos, 1850

In the 19th century, Greece was ruled by King Otto and Queen Amalia. The queen had a Danish personal pastor whose wife was Christiane Lüth. During her thirteen-year stay in the country, she frequently traveled around the Greek islands in the Aegean Sea. In her writings, she refrains from using academic terms, describing the people and islands in a simple, clear manner with a friendly and objective tone.

We arrived at the island of Sikinos around noon and found a simple harbor with two old boats. After some persuasion, we managed to get donkeys and began ascending a steep hill toward the village under the hot sun. We paused for a while at a well, where the view was vast and clear.

In the village, we were greeted by the Health Officer on a terrace, and we were soon surrounded by villagers who offered us coffee. The mayor arrived and invited us to his house, where his wife spoke to us kindly.

We also visited the church of Episkopi, built on an ancient temple dedicated to Apollo. Columns and marble from the old pagan temple are still prominently visible in and around the church building. On the way there, the priest offered us bread, olives, and raw beans. On the way back from the church, we visited a young weaver and had the chance to see her craftsmanship.

When we returned to the village, we were once again met by the mayor and the villagers. They wanted to hear about our excursion and what we thought of their island.

Note: The text above is a summary of an extensive article in Lifo magazine about the Laskarides Foundation’s online sessions on the Greek islands before modernization.

Paros

Choiseul-Gouffier, a French nobleman and travel writer, visited Paros during his first journey to Greece in 1776. In Voyage pittoresque de la Grèce, he described how the island’s marble, renowned for its purity and transparency, had once shaped some of Greece’s greatest works of art.

However, he was not only fascinated by the island’s marble quarries but also by its local life, documenting both landscapes and people. His accounts spread across Europe, helping to enhance the island’s mythical status as a place where the ancient heritage still lived.

Santorini

The volcanic island of Santorini, otherworldly and captivating, followed the same historical fate as the rest of the Cyclades, transitioning from Venetian to Ottoman rule. After centuries of foreign dominion, the island became part of the modern Greek state in the 19th century. It was during this period of change that Christopher Wordsworth published his richly illustrated work, Greece, Pictorial, Descriptive. More a historical account than a travel narrative, it gained significant popularity with the public.

Christopher Wordsworth was a distinguished classical scholar and Bishop of Lincoln. He traveled through Greece in 1832–1833 and was the first British citizen to be received by King Otto.

Wordsworth documented his travels through meticulous archaeological observations, with vivid depictions of the places he visited at the forefront. By connecting modern locations with their ancient counterparts, Wordsworth provides us with a captivating portrayal of Greece’s history. His work combines intellectual rigor with personal enthusiasm, making it a fascinating read for those wishing to explore Greece’s rich past through the eyes of a knowledgeable traveler.

The beginning of a longer journey

Here we conclude the first stage of our expedition through Greece, seen through the eyes of foreign travelers. Their diaries, sketches, and letters have revived an Aegean landscape long reshaped by the passage of time—but the glimpses we have shared are merely the beginning of a much more extensive account.

We will delve deeper into these travelers’ experiences and observations in future articles. We will follow their paths through communities, villages, ancient ruins, and coastal landscapes that have since undergone significant changes. The travelers’ documentation serves as an important historical resource, shedding light on cultural traditions, architecture, and everyday life from a time when travel was reserved for a privileged few.

By comparing their accounts with today’s reality, we also gain perspective on the development of tourism in the region—both its contribution to economic growth and its profound impact on local communities. Their notes and images thus become a valuable reference point for understanding the transformation of the islands over the past centuries.

Sources:

Texts, images, photographs, and maps are published with permission from the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation. The material is based on the Foundation’s extensive archives, where the travelers’ testimonies are documented: https://www.laskaridisfoundation.org/en/

Argyro Bozonis’s article in Lifo magazine has also been an important reference in this compilation.

Further Reading:

The website TravelTrails is a collaboration between the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation and the Gennadius Library. The site serves as a comprehensive database of travel accounts from the Eastern Mediterranean between the 16th and 20th centuries. It is available in Greek, Turkish, and English: https://traveltrails.gr.

Related Articles

By comparing these historical accounts with modern travel narratives, we gain a unique perspective on how the islands and the experience of traveling have changed over the centuries. For those curious about what it was like to explore the Greek islands in more recent times, the article series Uffe’s Greek Wanderings is recommended. It depicts island life during the 1970s and 1980s—a period when mass tourism had just begun, yet the islands still retained much of their traditional character.

• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 1
• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 2
• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 3

The ancient travel writer Pausanias, who visited the Olympieion in the 2nd century AD, described it as one of the most impressive temples in the world. He noted the massive Corinthian columns and the magnificent statue of Zeus, which testify to the temple’s status as a symbol of power and divinity in both Greek and Roman times.

Standing at the site today, you are greeted by fifteen ancient columns rising toward the sky, their intricately carved capitals worn by time, battered by storms, lightning, fierce winds, wars, and natural disasters. A sixteenth column lies toppled, broken into segments as if a titan had abandoned their work halfway through. It is hard to imagine that this was once one of the most magnificent temples in the world – today, it is a relic that exudes both tranquility and the grandeur of a bygone era, wrapped in the hum and bustle of the city’s vibrant heart.

But beyond the temple’s grand history, there are also lesser-known stories – episodes visitors rarely hear.

The devastating storm of 1852

On October 14, 1852, the region of Attica was struck by a mighty storm, bringing intense rainfall and extreme gale-force winds that caused widespread destruction. Streets, homes, and farmland were flooded, trees were uprooted, and simple houses collapsed. In Piraeus Harbor, boats were washed ashore, and parts of the National Garden in Athens were destroyed. That same night, two earthquakes occurred, further intensifying the inhabitants’ sense of doom.

One of the most significant damages was the collapse of one of the 16 standing columns of the Olympieion. This column, which had stood for nearly two millennia, fell and broke into 18 pieces. The event was described as a “national tragedy” and caused great sorrow among the inhabitants of Athens. The leading newspaper of the time, “Αιών” (Aeon), reported:

“But the most tragic of all calamities was the fall of a colossal column from the Temple of Zeus, which collapsed fully along its entire length. We beheld this giant, 22 centuries old, lying prostrate upon the ground, divided into 18 immense fragments, and felt the power of God—manifesting either through natural forces or as a moral reminder. This column was the central one of the three that stood apart from the main structure of the temple.”

After the event, the authorities decided to surround the area with barbed wire to prevent the theft of pieces from the fallen column. However, this measure was criticized for its lack of aesthetics, and many suggested that an iron fence that fits the site’s historical significance should be installed instead.

Interestingly, the fallen column soon became part of the city’s social life. Cafés and beer halls opened nearby, and parts of the column were even used as tables, giving the site an unexpected role as a gathering place for discussions and socializing. Archaeologists and intellectuals consistently protested throughout this period against such activities taking place so close to a historical monument.

The Pillar Saints on the Temple of Zeus

During the Ottoman period in Athens, the temple’s columns are believed to have become a refuge for ascetic monks, known as pillar saints or stylites. These ascetics, seeking spiritual purification and closeness to God, are said to have lived atop the massive columns, which stand approximately 17 meters tall. There, they built small, simple dwellings and spent their days praying and meditating. Residents are said to have sent up food and water using ropes and buckets.

This theory was put forward in 2017 by the British author and researcher Paul M.M. Cooper. He suggested the possibility that the columns were used by stylites over the centuries. He arrived at this theory by analyzing historical photographs, where he discovered a peculiar structure on top of one of the columns. The structure’s regularity and placement prompted further investigation, and by studying paintings, lithographs, and other depictions from the same period, he concluded that it was likely a small building, probably made of bricks, used by ascetics.

His work, based on both visual sources and historical documents, has sparked renewed curiosity about the previously unknown historical aspects of the site. Although extensive contemporary sources are lacking, the theory offers a unique insight into how these ancient structures might have been used during the Ottoman period. While the theory is not fully confirmed, it adds a new dimension to our understanding of the temple’s history.

According to other sources, the columns were not only used by Christian hermits but also by Turkish Muslim ascetics. It is also said that Ethiopian slaves regarded the Temple of Zeus as a sacred place for prayer and devotion, where they gathered and performed rituals, especially during times of drought. Local legends also tell of supernatural beings said to leap between the columns on dark and stormy nights. These stories and traditions highlight the multifaceted history of the Olympieion, where ancient architecture, religious devotion, and folklore intertwine.

After Greece’s independence from the Ottoman Empire in the 19th century, efforts began to strengthen the national identity and restore ancient monuments to their original state. As part of these initiatives, the authorities decided to remove all structures added during the Ottoman period, including the small dwellings of the stylites atop the Olympieion’s columns. Another famous structure demolished in the 1870s was the Frankish Tower on the Acropolis.

The demolition of the stylites’ dwellings marked the end of this unique religious practice at the temple. Despite these measures, traces of the pillar saints’ presence remain in artworks from various periods, testifying to their historical significance for the Olympieion.

Hidden structures of the Olympieion unveiled

As Greek Reporter recently highlighted, recent research by the National Technical University of Athens has unveiled hidden structures beneath the Temple of Olympian Zeus using advanced geophysical techniques. These methods, including ground-penetrating radar and 3D imaging, allow archaeologists to explore subsurface features without excavation.

The team discovered a network of arched tunnels, originally part of a Roman sewer system, later repurposed during Greece’s War of Independence, 1821 – 1829. Additionally, radar imaging revealed a system of tanks and drains north of the temple, likely connected to its original drainage design. These non-invasive methods aid in ongoing restoration efforts and pave the way for future archaeological breakthroughs.

The Olympieion and the timeless legacy of Athens

Athens is more than just a city; it is a living testament to the passage of history. Here, layers of classical ancient architecture, Hellenistic creativity, Roman grandeur, Byzantine mysticism, and Ottoman influence come together to shape its identity. The Temple of Zeus, with its majestic columns and diverse uses over the centuries, reflects these eras uniquely.

Each era has left its mark – from ancient sanctuaries, where spirituality and cultural symbolism thrived, to Byzantine and Ottoman mysticism, as well as the oral storytelling traditions that followed. It is precisely these many layers that make Athens so captivating and give the site’s history a profound and timeless resonance.

Olympieion – Models and Reconstructions

Would you like to see how the Olympieion and its surroundings might have looked in antiquity? Visit Ancient Athens 3D and explore fascinating reconstructions of the site, created by Dimitris Tsalkanis in collaboration with Professor Chrysanthos Kanellopoulos of the University of Athens.

Sources: Wikipedia, mixanitouxronou.gr, in.gr, iefimerida.gr

The Expedition’s guided tours spring 2025 – see Athens with fresh eyes

Are you ready to delve deeper into the stories still whispered among the ruins? In the spring of 2025, we will take you to sides of Athens few have explored – where every step uncovers new layers of hidden or forgotten histories. Soon, you’ll be able to book your spot on our updated guided tours and become part of this journey through time and space. Stay tuned here for upcoming dates and more details.

We had the privilege of meeting Kostas Papatheodorou, the civil engineer, architect, artist, and philosopher behind this extraordinary building. He invited us on an exclusive private tour of what he calls his life’s work.

The church of Agia Foteini rises as a striking sight in the open landscape of Mantineia – a building that organically blends ancient, Byzantine, and Oriental elements. It is a church unlike any other, filled with both sacred and playful features.

Kostas Papatheodorou – the creator of the church

When the church was built in the early 1970s, Kostas Papatheodorou became a remarkable figure in the eyes of the locals Summer and winter alike, he worked tirelessly among piles of discarded materials, transforming them into his life’s work. One of the villagers describes him like this:

He was called “the ghost of ancient Mantineia” – a solitary figure who walked or cycled to the church construction site, where he carved stone and breathed new life into what others deemed worthless. He even lived for six months in a tent at the site in order to save time. (From the magazine lifo.gr)

Meeting a groundbreaking artist

Fifty-five years later, we meet this man in the remote mountain village of Levidi in northern Peloponnese, where he now lives, not far from Agia Foteini.

He immediately comes across as a kind-hearted, humble, and modest individual. With a warm and lively storytelling manner, and a twinkle in his eye, he openly shares memories, reflections, and anecdotes from his journey as the creator of Agia Foteini, one of Greece’s most unique churches.

After getting acquainted, he kindly asks us to accompany him to his home to retrieve the new icon he has painted and wishes to install in the church.

We arrive at his modest residence, a 160 sq. ft. apartment comprising a bedroom studio, a kitchenette, and a small bathroom. Carefully wrapping the delicate icon, which depicts Jesus mocked by the Romans, he carries it himself, despite his age, to the car and later into the church.

Once inside the church, we decide together where the icon should be placed. Then, we sit down on a church bench to talk about his life’s work.

His voice echoes through the church’s arches as he shares the vision, challenges, and inspiration behind the creation of this unique place.

Kostas explains that it was the Mantineia Society that approached him in the late 1960s. They wanted to create a church dedicated to Agia Foteini, but one that would stand out from the rest.

“I immediately felt that this was something special,” he says, adding that he promptly resigned from the Ministry of Culture and moved to Tripoli to begin his life’s work.

Guidance from within

He quickly drafted an initial sketch of the church to secure a building permit, even though the design later evolved in a completely different direction. Once construction began, he experienced strong inner guidance.

“It was as if something deep within me guided every single step,” he explains. “It wasn’t like an actual voice, but more like a profound feeling.”

Kostas explains that he and a small team of craftsmen began the construction intending to create everything by hand, following old traditions.

“Everything you see here, we made ourselves, with our own hands. We never bought a finished product. The work was intense, often continuing day and night. We even made bricks of our own and, of course, built without cement.”

Kostas carefully oversaw every step to realize his vision down to the smallest detail.

He gestures passionately toward the various parts of the building. First, he directs our attention to the unique arches and begins to explain his thoughts behind their design.

“The arches here are not circular; they are parabolic,” he points out, explaining that a parabola is a geometric curve symbolizing something that extends toward infinity.

“See over there,” he continues, pointing. “The right column stands perfectly upright, while the left has a slight tilt. Its axis points toward the Pantocrator at the top of the dome.”

He refers to the traditional depiction of Christ as the Pantocrator – a common feature in Greek Orthodox churches, where Christ is portrayed as the Ruler of the Universe, positioned high above in the dome.

“I painted Him with a small, fine brush, without following any sketch. The ideas came to me spontaneously as I worked high up on the scaffolding,” he says.

To save time, he initially slept on the scaffolding. He also recalls an owl that would come to wake him early every morning. Kostas built her a marble nest, where she later had owlets.

“She would tap on the dome with her beak every morning; we had become friends,” he says with a gentle smile.

Marble – a peculiar material

Kostas also shares his deep reverence for marble, describing it as a living material.

“Marble has a soul of its own and needs to be shaped and placed in the right way. Each piece must be set where it belongs, at the proper distance, in the correct form, and with its movement in the right direction,” he says, gesturing toward the details of the church. “That’s why we mostly used hand tools and rarely relied on machines.”

Kostas then points to the capitals and other decorative details as he explains how he drew inspiration from Greece’s rich history.

“My inspiration comes from all Greek eras,” he says, “from the Mycenaean civilization and the Classical period to the Byzantine era, all the way to modern Greece.”

“Everything in here speaks,” Kostas continues reverently. “Everything wants to tell a story. Do you see the different colors and combinations? They are trying to communicate something too.”

He also points out that the building has no right angles, which makes it appear slightly askew.

“It’s as if the church is alive. It looks fragile – almost delicate. But that’s exactly what gives it an organic life; it’s like a living being,” he says with a mysterious smile. “It doesn’t belong to any known architectural style.”

I take the opportunity to share with Kostas my impression of the church from my first visit – a curious blend of ancient, Byzantine, and modernist elements, with surreal and almost comical touches. The church had struck me as ramshackle, almost like Karagiozis’ rickety house.

“Yes, ramshackle is a good word,” Kostas agrees. “But behind the ramshackle appearance,” he explains, “lies a higher form of mathematics – not the kind we learn in school.”

But this blend of Christian and ancient elements – how did people react when they saw what was taking shape?”

“Most people liked how the church looked, especially the Mantineia Society, which financed the project. They supported me throughout the entire process.”

But then Kostas shakes his head as he recalls the negative reactions.

“Unfortunately, some people tried to hinder me,” he says quietly. “Once, they even tried shaking the scaffolding to make me fall. Others fired a shotgun at the roof while I was sleeping inside, mostly to scare me.”

But Kostas did not give up and continued his work tirelessly. Despite the many challenges and opposition from some, he persevered with unwavering determination.

“Did the official Church approve of what was taking shape?”

“At first, they were skeptical, but in the end, it was approved, though with some reservations. The regular priests love the church as it is, but opinions among the bishops are divided. Some find fault with both big and small things; it’s hard to explain to them what it’s all about.”

“And what about ordinary people?”

“Ordinary people just love Agia Foteini! Many want to get married or baptize their children here.”

Much More Than a Church

The church has become a beloved venue for weddings and baptisms, but for Kostas, it is so much more. To him, Agia Foteini is like a part of his own body, a living extension of himself.

“God can only be expressed through symbols, and it is through symbols that the building speaks,” he explains.

“The purpose of the building is to unite the human with the divine. The divine can be glimpsed in every stone, in the movement, and in the direction each part points toward.”

Kostas also shares a remarkable experience from the day before the church’s central icon of Saint Agia Foteini was to be installed. Near the cypress tree outside the church, he saw a silver-white light radiating from the tree.

“It was like many swords of light radiating toward me. I believe it was Agia Foteini herself expressing her joy,” he says with a thoughtful smile.

At this point, I wanted to continue the discussion, but I noticed his voice starting to fade.

“I’m really tired now,” he says quietly. “I actually have thousands of things to tell, but I won’t manage it, so we’ll have to stop,” he apologizes.

The private tour and Kostas’ captivating stories opened up a new dimension for me, allowing me to see the church’s stones and symbols as expressions of humanity’s longing, faith, and creative spirit throughout history.

Perhaps the true value of Agia Foteini lies in the sense of eternity and presence that permeates every corner – a feeling Kostas has woven into every detail, where the human and the divine meet in a silent dialogue that continues long after the words have faded.

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