AthensScapes: Mets

 by Kathryn Koromilas
     
 ONE hundred or so years ago, if you said you were going to Mets you would be referring to the name of a beer-drinking hole that appeared in around 1870 and whose owner, fascinated by the Battle of Metz during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71, baptised his entertainment spot after the French city.

Nowadays, if you say that you live in Mets, you are normally greeted with a blank stare. The area enclosed between Vassileos Konstandinou and Ymittou sts, the Athens First Cemetery and the Marble or Kalimarmaro stadium - and which incorporates Ardittou Hill - is still very much a well-kept secret. This is not at all surprising for the suburb whose small low-key urban community is keen on keeping Mets a peaceful and quiet area, restricting the opening of new bars or taverns with a clear aim to preserve buildings, walkways and greenery, making it an oasis in the heart of a chaotic city.

The Mets drinking hole that gave the suburb its name (even though it was officially declared Ardittos by the Municipality of Athens) stood at the beginning of what is now the suburb’s main drag, namely Markou Mousourou St - named after Cretan Markos Mousouros (1470-1517) a man of letters who taught Greek literature at the universities of Padua and Venice. The bar was succeeded in 1883 by an aristocratic music hall which maintained a decadent reputation until about 1900, when it became less frequented. Preserved up until 1957, it was pulled down as the city of Athens was being rapidly urbanised.

Angelos Kosmas, a resident since 1938 and a florist at one of the many stores that embrace the cemetery, tells me of the Mets bar. “There were rooms there too, you know, where couples went.” I nod and smile vaguely. He focuses on me with an insinuating smirk just to make sure I understand. The area northwest of Ardittou Hill was nicknamed “Pantremenadika” since it was home to a number of secret shacks housing bordellos from around 1862 to the end of the 19th century.
     
  

kosmas in mets
© 2004 Kathryn Koromilas
  

 

These days, however, as far as nightlife goes, what’s on offer is less decadent and more traditional. The Palia Taverna 1896 and the Pergoulia tavern offer a good traditional Greek menu enhanced by the “Plaka effect” - large tables of tourist groups and musicians who play whatever Greek tune has gained international acclaim.

Dimitris Koutouzis bought the Palia Taverna 10 years ago and tells me that all the big names have dined there, “Mercouri, Papandreou, Simitis. Everyone has passed through here.” The tavern has a decidedly tourist appeal to it. “But it’s not just tourists,” Koutouzis explains, “lots of Greeks come too.” Indeed a local joins in with the musicians to render an old favourite in her high-pitched voice.

A large part of the building housing the tavern retains elements of the original although Koutouzis has extended it. The stone wall, however, is original. On display are plates and a buffet that dates back years. The entrance greets you with black and white photos of an extinct Athens.

While business is booming for Koutouzis, down the road at 3 Markou Mousourou St you’ll find the remains of Manesis, a tavern that closed its doors a couple of years ago following an alleged dispute between the tavern’s owner and the landowner. Nothing has opened in its place since there are restrictions that prohibit new bars, taverns and clubs opening in the area.

Koutouzis, for example can’t close down his Palia Taverna and open another. “If I want to close down my shop,” he says, “then I’ll just have to build an apartment block.”

The Half Note Jazz Club, which stands eerily opposite the cemetery is undisputedly the best place to hear jazz in the city. Jazz musicians from the world over have arrived in Athens to take on the intimate Half Note stage and say that it reminds them of ?ew York’s famous Blue Note. On the corner of Markou Mousourou and Ardittou sts, Memories restaurant is a great hangout for oldies, with traditional cuisine and a lively bunch of musicians.

Above the restaurant the Exo bar/cub boasts an intoxicating open-air balcony view of Athens - probably second only to the view from the Galaxy bar at the Hilton Hotel. In the summer, a young trendy crowd swarms on and around couches or dances inside to the latest hits. Across the road the very suave Sabbia club had its summer home last year while the National Gardens host open cafes and a dance club.

Strolling up towards the middle of the main drag to Number 19, a cool little cafe called Odeon plays host to locals. Middle-aged men sit at white round tables outside at noon while inside friends chat candidly over books and coffee. If you’re lucky, the owner, a former jazz pianist, may set up his keyboard and play for you. Today, however, the waiter is listening to Portishead. He is good-looking but not “sculptured” as most Greek boys around town. He’s dressed in the grunge style made famous by Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain. His long hair is casually tied back and he sports a natural beard.

Around us, English-speaking foreigners, possibly students at the nearby Athens Centre, occupy the tables, which are burdened with books, pens and papers over which interesting conversations hover. It’s the perfect inner-city place where you can sit comfortably with a book for hours.

The soul of the old Mets drinking hole is captured in the modern-day Mets bar on Markou Mousourou St which opens its doors in the evening to its subtly stylish adult customers, who are treated to an innovative menu, smiling waiters and great music in a dimly lit atmosphere.

The French Metz boasts pleasant promenades along the banks of the Moselle River. The river that flowed through Mets is now hidden under the roadways but it still offers a pleasant walk. Late Athens mayor Andonis Tritsis was committed to establishing paved walkways with trees and benches. The Logginou Park up towards the top of Markou Mousourou St offers a perfect hideaway for tired folks as well as a playground for kids. As I huff and puff through the dirt paths, a group of children are playing basketball.

For an inner-city area, the green is certainly intoxicating. But, according to Rosemary Donelly, joint director of the Athens Centre, who has called Mets her home since 1971, it’s difficult to maintain. “An awareness of public spaces is a recent thing in Greece. I’ve planted geraniums around the trees that line my street and cars have actually driven on top of them. Some people think of the paved pedestrian streets as a parking lot. When the city was built, the people had no cars and no driveways were built. Sometimes I have to stop cars boldly and say, ‘Why are you doing this?’. But really where are they supposed to go?”

“One thing you could do is call the police but you risk extremely bad relationships with neighbours. If you don’t involve the police then you risk the degeneration of the area. I say that you can’t save Athens but you can save your own block.”

And so, Donelly does her own bit. “I have a great garden, you should see it, I’ve got a lemon tree and an orange tree. If people see you take care of your space then they join in.”

On Markou Mousourou St an old lady dressed in black opens the balcony door of her tired and decaying neo-classical home. Some buildings are indeed forgotten but others have been beautifully restored and painted with lovely fresh colours.

And to all backpackers in search of Joe’s House pension - it’s no longer there!

The Athens Centre - which provides Greek language courses as well as historical, archaeological and cultural studies - is a bit like an idyllic getaway in the heart of a dirty busy city. You’ll find the centre on the corner of Archimidous and Domboli sts. Fittingly, Ioannis Dombolis was a benefactor who founded the Athens University.

Administration assistant Nina Lorum Stamatiou loves everything about Mets. “There’s something about the atmosphere. It’s cozy. It has really kept a sense of the old Greek geitonia (neighbourhood). People are close, they know each other by first name, a real sense of community. Athens Centre students love the neighbourhood and the bakery. They often say how they’ll miss the bakery most and the spanakopites and hot bread.” Oh and then, of course, there’s the bakali (grocer) Kyrios Nikos in his tiny store which stocks almost anything you could ever think of.

I ask Kosmas what he likes about Mets. “Nothing at all,” he says, “Everything has changed!” This sentiment is echoed by Lili Tavoulari who owns and runs a wooden framed quaint little gift store at 38 Markou Mousourou St called Moatso (after a Venetian family that moved and “conquered” Crete first in 1400 settled in Mets last century).

“It used to be much better,” she says once she’s invited me inside to rest on her velvet-covered chair, offering me a cigarette. “It was much more beautiful. The main reason? The people, the artists, poets and writers. They loved life and loved the glendi (partying). But now, things have changed; there are lots of people coming into the area who just flaunt money. We have the cemetery on the one side, and it looks like we’re becoming the morgue over here.”

But she smiles sweetly as she says all this. And, of course, Kosmas would never leave Mets. His Greek grinia (whining) is just a cover-up. He loves the area. “It’s close to the city and yet away from it”.

I’ve left the cemetery until last. Two elderly ladies covered in brown shawls and headscarves greet me as I enter. Suddenly, it’s quiet in Athens. The birds are chirping and flittering around and there are so many varieties. Look up and you see the green of the fir trees and lots of blue. It’s idyllic and I stand there mesmerised. That is, until a voice belonging to an elderly lady brings me back to Athenian reality, “Anything you can offer to help, my dear girl. I’m so sick.”

The cemetery has made me nostalgic. It’s hardly a morbid place to be since only few burials take place there these days. It’s a lot more like a museum, displaying some of the most imposing marble sculptures created by some of the nation’s best artists, not to mention the tombstones of the country’s most prominent individuals (who have also given their names to this city’s streets) such as those of Goulandris, Rallis, Melina Mercouri (humbly bearing two roses) and Andreas Papandreou.

I walk out - the old ladies wish me good health, with palms subtly raised - and I sit on a bench on the paved entrance lined with mandarin trees. I look down towards the road leading up towards the first cemetery, founded in 1837. It’s called Anapafseos, meaning literally “eternal rest”. Most roads that lead to cemeteries have this name. Prior to 1925, however, the road was called Nekrotafeiou or Cemetery Street.

Kosmas told me that Ardittou Hill (standing today at around 133 metres high) came all the way to where I am now sitting. Years ago one could see the Acropolis from this spot. To get a glimpse of the Acropolis today, you’ll need to walk along Vas Konstandinou St on your way to the Kalimarmaro.

I imagine Ardittou Hill in older times when it was called Elikon. The Temple of Elikon Apollonos, where judges took their oaths, stood atop the hill. I imagined the site where the Lesser Eleusinian Ceremonies - famous religious agricultural ceremonies celebrating sowing, sprouting and reaping of the grain - may have taken place.

I stroll back to Kosmas and his workmates again. One shouts and gesticulates, “Where’s the ribbon?” “It’s right there,” replies Kosmas calmly - he’s got better things to do like talk to an Athens News journalist and pose for a photo. “Well, come and get it then,” the friend gesticulates even more angrily, “Can’t you see, I’m flat out.” A couple of women laugh at his grinia. “Now here’s a Mets story you can include!” they light their cigarettes in the early spring sun.

His friend looks at me a tad reserved. “So you’re writing an article on Mets huh? Others have done that too. But they don’t get it right. You know, you can’t just talk to someone for a few minutes and then think that you can write about Mets. This guy,” he points to Kosmas, “he was born here, he grew up here, played in the streets, he saw everything, that’s where the true history of the place lies.”

Well, I’ve already decided that I’m going back to visit Kosmas on Monday. He has a book he wants to show me and I’m sure there are lots more stories he wants to share.

[Published in the Athens News, 2000, as part of my “AthensScapes” series.]