Athens for non-Athenians

GRNET is organising an Open Source conference in Athens next month. We have invited a number of people with important role in Open Source, and many of them decided to extend their stay in order to enjoy Athens, and Greece, in spring. What's in it for them? Here is a list of suggestions and practicalities.

Athens has got a lot of bad press internationally, and much of it is well-deserved. Traffic can be a nightmare and people rude; pavements are chock full of potholes and often dangerous (pushing a baby stroller on them is a special challenge); Athenians show little interest on the inconvenience their convenience causes to others, so they are happy to park their car wherever they seem fit; in the summer, the heat can be suffocating, and made worse by massive car air-conditioning; in the winter, the lightest rain causes traffic havoc; bicycles are considered quaint, at best; and so on.

So, what's in it for them?

I remember, about 10 years ago, I and my girlfriend were travelling in India. That was the first time we were travelling outside Europe. First stop was Delhi; the hotel was located at the Paharganj area. In the Lonely Planet guide we were using (like everybody else, it turned out), the map showed our hotel in the bazaar along the main street. It was a surprise to find out that the street was not paved, and would not count as a proper street by our standards. It was the monsoon season and our white shoes quickly became so soiled that we would be shamed to wear them back home (white shoes? what had we been thinking?). We tried to get around in Delhi the way we would in Europe, on foot, instead of doing what the sensible locals did, which was to use a rick-saw. We spent barely three days there before setting out for other places in India.

A brief time afterwards we were used to the demands of Indian travel (so much so, that we returned a few years later). The trip, although still trying, was really a pleasure. One day we were on an excursion from Udaipur to the Ranakpur Jainist temple, a building whose elegance beggars belief. On the way there we stopped for a lunch at a tourist restaurant.

There was an English guy there, he seemed to be in his sixties, spending most his time alone, reading what it seemed to be to the bible; which predisposed me rather negatively towards him, but also drew my attention. At some point during lunch he asked where we had been in India. We started by recounting our traumatic experience in Delhi. "Delhi", he replied, "is like old wine. It needs time. It reveals itself."

Although I have been to many places in India since, I have not returned to Delhi. I regret. We did not give Delhi a proper chance, we judged the city by our false expectations; but a city is always bigger than yourself, and this is what it makes it fascinating. As for Delhi, the same for Athens. It needs time; it reveals itself.