Byzantine Athens: The City Beneath the Tourist City

There is a version of Athens that exists between the ancient and the modern—a Byzantine city of small churches, olive-oil-burning lamps, and frescos painted by anonymous artists who believed they were making windows between the human and the divine. Most visitors walk past this city entirely, focusing on the ancient monuments above and the modern city around them. The Byzantine layer requires a different kind of attention: slower, more lateral, willing to push open an unlocked door.

The church of Kapnikarea on Ermou Street—one of the main shopping streets—stands at the exact centre of the pavement, surrounded by people carrying shopping bags. It was built in the eleventh century and has been a functioning church continuously since then. The interior is tiny and dark, lit by oil lamps, smelling of incense and damp stone. Services take place here every morning. The priest does not pause when tourists enter.

The Kerameikos neighbourhood—named for the ancient potters' quarter it overlies—contains one of the most peaceful archaeological sites in Athens: the ancient cemetery, which includes Byzantine graves layered over ancient ones. At the site's edge, an eleventh-century church stands roofless but structurally intact, its brick and stone courses as precise as the day they were laid.

The best way to experience Byzantine Athens is to attend an Easter liturgy. The midnight service on Holy Saturday, when the priest emerges with the flame and the congregation passes it person to person in the darkness, is one of the most affecting rituals in all of European Christianity—and it happens simultaneously in every church in every city and village in Greece. Find a small neighbourhood church in Plaka or Monastiraki, stand outside, receive the flame. You will understand something essential.