Head there first thing in the morning when the city is a thing of pink-tinged beauty.

I have big, fat Greek plans for my spare time in Athens before boarding a cruise to Istanbul. My hotel, Divani Caravel, is three kilometres from the Parthenon, that ancient temple - almost as old as Athens' port of Piraeus, established in the 5th century BCE - that crowns the Acropolis. Surely I'll retrace my backpacker steps to revisit the landmark. What I haven't reckoned on is sweltering midsummer heat.
At dawn, I consult Google maps: nearby Mount Lycabettus, a pimple of limestone which, at 277 metres, is central Athens' highest point, calls me to it. A city not yet fully awake is a thing of pink-tinged beauty. I amble up the trail, populated with Athens' luckiest stray cats. They enjoy long-distance, pine tree-framed views of the Parthenon with a backdrop of the Aegean Sea, where I will soon be cruising. Up top, I sprawl on cool marble beneath a bell tower and soak up other spectacles. Soldiers raise the national flag while a woman mops the entrance to tiny St George Church. My day is made - and it's not even breakfast time.
The number of cruise passengers who passed through Athens' port Piraeus in 2024




