The heat of another summer day in the Greek capital was just starting to ebb, a few cool breezes blowing through the oven of an afternoon that, even by Athenian standards, was set on maximum bake. Still far too early for dinner, a few couples and scattered clusters of friends had begun to gather at patio tables, little bursts of laughter and animated debate rising into the air over refreshing-looking iced cocktails.
All Greek. No English at all. Cypresses and cedars and pines provide a verdant backdrop and plenty of shade. Traffic on the small streets was light, and lazy, even on a weeknight.
I don’t know how many times I’ve visited this massive, unknowable city—not quite a dozen, but close—but I never imagined a place like this. Athens is infamous for its clamor and noise, all cacophony and little calm. But tonight, Kifissia was a revelation, a true oasis just 20 minutes from the center of the city.But almost nobody heads north—except, of course, for Athenians themselves. Set at a higher altitude and covered in greenery, Kifissia is significantly cooler than the center of the city. In antiquity, philosophers made this their home, and in the late 19th century, wealthy Athenians began building summer villas in the area, competing to outdo each other on size and grandeur. When the railway arrived in 1885, hotels also went up, and people stayed here for months, enjoying the cool and the company.
Since it remains the end of one commuter rail line, you can still take the train—or just hop in a taxi. Leaving the freeway and winding onto the flanks of Mount Penteli, you can feel the difference immediately. As I checked into the Life Gallery Hotel, just north of the main shopping district in the neighboring town of Ekali, the stress of the super-heated streets of central Athens fell away. Tucked into the forest with two pools surrounded by cushy deck chairs, and rooms with balconies that overlook the mountains, this felt more like a resort than a city hotel.
Exploring Kifissia
My first activity here: to take a stroll. A cab dropped me at Kelafari Square in the late afternoon, and I followed the gentle downward slope of Kolokotroni, one of Kifissia’s main streets. Grand houses peeked out from behind the trees, some of them now converted into cocktail bars. In the shopping district, foot traffic picked up, with men and women leisurely browsing the boutiques. The streets are lined with international luxury brands, as well as cool little shops such as Par Amour, which stocks a variety of Greek designers.
Smelling popcorn, I investigated one of the two outdoor movie theatres, but the man at the box office told me it wasn’t my night—they were showing a French film with Greek subtitles. Nearby, I also attempted to visit the Drossinis Museum, housed in a handsome villa. It was once home to the famed Greek author and poet Georgios Drossinis. I rang the buzzer at the front door, and a kind woman let me in.
“This is where he spent the final years of his life,” she told me, showing me around the library on the first floor, before relaying the news that the second floor, which houses his writing and other artifacts, was open by appointment only and the curator was done for the day.
I had better luck at the Goulandris Natural History Museum. Built out of stone and glass in a residential neighborhood, I wandered around the various wings that housed everything from hands-on exhibits to help kids understand renewable energy to a virtual reality experience that simulates being in an earthquake.
Dining Like a Local
Feeling fully educated, it was time to engage in Kifissia’s two most popular activities—that is, eating and drinking. First, a wine tasting and a light bite at Il Salumaio d’Atene, a deli and restaurant recommended by a local friend, where outdoor tables are tucked into lush greenery. Indoors, under a stained-glass skylight and chandelier, I pulled up a bar stool and sampled some black angus salami. The crew behind the counter was working double-time chopping tomatoes, tossing lemons, and brewing espressos.
A manager told me that they import many of their meats and cheeses directly from Italy. You can buy from the counter and take it home, or settle down at a table for hot and cold dishes. I tucked into a tender sea bream carpaccio—“the fish is fresh, from here,” the manager says, as he plunked it down in front of me, the citrus finish of the dish softening the mineral-rich glass Assyrtiko, a Greek wine poured a moment earlier by the sommelier.
And as the sky finally turned from pink to purple to cobalt, I finished the day with a long dinner at a local fixture, Nice n Easy. The patio filled slowly, the legendary late dining habits of Greeks proving true on this night. Six courses, all very fresh.
“We say, if we can’t get an ingredient locally, we won’t use it,” the general manager Kyriakos Kyprianidis told me, noting they completely change the menu every season.
“A long time ago, villagers would graze their cows and goats, right here on this spot,” he explained as I made my way through chicken gyro tacos and pappardelle pasta and tender pork tenderloin with mashed potatoes as smooth as velvet.
