LIVE LIKE AN ATHENIAN SERIES: 3 Athens with Kids

I moved to Athens for its night life. This feels incredibly ironic given that I haven’t been out of my house past 6pm for the best part of six months since having my youngest one. Having kids will do that to a person, and I’ve recently accepted it. Do I mourn the nocturnal city I lived in pre the two C’s (covid and children)? I won’t bang on about it but yes, Athens was a vibe. I had been travelling to the city since my early twenties, mainly to party.

The draw was late, spontaneous nights that were full of what a great night out should be - full of suspense, dancing until dawn and always clandestine and raucous in spirit. Coming from London, I loved the freedom a night in Athens proposed. Liberated from pre-set dates in the diary, restaurant reservations and tickets for club nights, I was deeply in love with a city that opened up the night to its full potential.

The city was emerging from the financial crisis battered and bruised but that left space for young Greek creatives (myself included) to quite physically take up the abandoned spaces left behind by businesses that didn’t make it through those awful years. Instead, young Greek artists could use empty shop fronts to make art, exhibit it and party. This is where the nights usually began, at an art opening where I made new friends, drank free wine and stumbled giddily down the road to local tavernas or late night meze spots for a meal that would begin at 10pm and wrap up around 2 in the morning, at which point I’d head to a club with my new posse and dance until the sun’s morning glow over the white city would signal it might be time for a lie down, or at least a freddo cappuccino swilled under the shade of an empathetic bitter orange tree.

Now I steer clear of caffeine and my day begins at a time that I’d usually be found on a dance floor. One constant in the many changes of my life in the past ten years, however, has been the neighbourhood I chose to settle in when I first moved to Athens and what a stroke of luck that was. Kypseli happened to be where I settled because a friend of a friend was subletting their apartment here but in the years since I’ve moved back to Greece, the neighbourhood has flourished into one of the most child-friendly zones in the centre of Athens.

Formerly where the well-heeled lived, Kypseli is centrally located enough to walk to the centre in half an hour. The parthenon is a stroll away from my house but archaic relics aside, Kypseli itself has become a destination. Even in its extremely run down state when I moved to the city a decade ago, the beauty of its buildings could not be denied. The moneyed actors, artists and musicians that once graced its grand boulevard of Fokionos Negri moved into beautifully designed apartments, boasting dramatic marble entranceways; the doors are decadent with art deco, bauhaus and modernist patterns in cast iron. Floors are pristine parquet and the ceiling heights are enviable.

Before having kids, I loved being able to live in my dream modernist apartment. Now, I appreciate Kypseli for so much more than just its architecture. It’s a central Athenian neighbourhood that benefits from four pedestrianised areas - Saint George’s Square, Kypseli Square, Fokionos Negri Boulevard and Agias Zonis street - perfect for catching up with friends for lunch in the sun while my daughter whizzes up and down on a scooter.

On my doorstep is one of the most beautiful parks in all of Athens (and there aren’t many), Pedion tou Areos. In the decade that I’ve lived in Kypseli, the Onassis Foundation (of shipping family, Onassis) transformed the biggest park in Athens from a no-go zone to an urban oasis filled with tropical plants, multiple cypress and pine-shaded playgrounds and a cafe in front of which my daughter and her friends happily frolic in an enormous water fountain installation once the mercury rises come summer. Waking up to stroll my three month old in this dense canopy of green in the morning has become one of my daily highlights. I don’t even get FOMO watching hungover clubbers slump back home through the winding paths of the park, just as I’m starting my day with the babes.

That’s the thing with having my own progeny, it sounds worthy but they’ve made me discover parts of myself I never knew existed. Same goes for the city. ‘Secret beaches’ on the Athenian Riviera have long been located and pinned. We spend weekends picnicking on the coast or whiling away the hours at beach front tavernas with friends while our kids go wild (like, feral) in the sand. I climb hills for insane views and play hide and seek in lush forests. Or we play date with picnics on friends’ enormous terraces.

Without the military boot camp early starts, I wouldn’t experience the joy of getting a front row seat at Kallidromiou Street’s laiki (farmer’s market) on a Saturday morning. A much coveted spot, the cafes that line the street make for the perfect perch to people watch as Athenians come from all over the city to buy their fruit and veg, listen to street music and generally see and be seen. Usually out too late pre-children, I would never quite manage to get a seat or a table to enjoy a silty Greek coffee. Plus, people in Greece love kids so much that taking my children to the market usually results in a free bunch of bananas or a punnet of something juicy. You take these small wins where you can, when you’re parenting a toddler and a newborn.

Symbolic of Greek culture, of course Athenians are welcoming and inherently warm towards children. Filoxenia - showing kindness to strangers - is woven into our DNA and this unequivocally applies to children. Walking my newborn down the street doesn’t just illicit coos and doe eyes from old ladies. A teenage boy actually waved at the little one yesterday, smiling and playing peekaboo while I waited at an ATM machine. And by ‘waited’ I mean, I was ushered to the front of the line and told never to wait while I am with my children again.

The Greeks really do roll out the red carpet for pregnant women and parents with young children, which means no queuing of any kind. Not at the airport, not at the supermarket, not even at a busy restaurant for a table. If I didn’t have to take my kids everywhere with me, I would do it anyway, just to avoid waiting around.

In spite of myself, I have grown to love early mornings in my city. Sure, the promise of a wild and spontaneous night has been quashed with the arrival of little people but the jubilant morning light of Athens, kindness of its strangers and warm spanakopita fresh from its bakeries make up for it. Instead of dancing until dawn I dance at dawn, and welcome another day of discovery with my girls.

Visiting Athens with children can feel daunting because it’s a big city, with plenty of traffic and has a reputation for being rough or unsafe. I am very happy to dispel this myth for you all. Athens has some of the best playgrounds I’ve ever visited and an incredible amount of OUTDOOR activities that allow little ones to run around in nature and let off steam. It also happens to be somewhere you can take your kids for dinner without people around you raising brows.

Below are my top ten places to take the children in and around Athens…

My VIP “Inner Circle” subscribers also have access to a private chat with me, in which I can answer more questions you might have about visiting Athens (with or without kids). In May I’m also sending all my Inner Circle subscribers my full PDF travel guide to Athens with all my secret spots. The inner circle are one grade up from paid - they’re the supporters that pay a little extra for a little extra access. More info here.