I only know posh Kolonaki in its present incarnation as the designer shopping and gallery district, so it’s intriguing to hear about this area’s humble origins as a land of superstition and shepherds. Kolonaki didn’t evolve into a high-end hub until the early 1830s, when the newly anointed King Otto, announced the location of his palace (in what’s now the Greek Parliament). Rich Greek expats, who’d returned after Greece won its independence from Ottoman rule, scrambled to build their neoclassical mansions near royalty. 
“They desperately wanted to unearth something ancient to make their new neighbourhood glorious,” Zoe tells us in Kolonaki Square. “But all they could find was this little column where they used to sacrifice animals in pagan times to keep diseases away.” That such a grandiose area was named for this modest weathered pillar is an enjoyable irony. 

Exarchia. This hotbed of radicals and free-thinkers feels alive and kicking. Exarchia is a melting pot of students, immigrants, working Greek families, street artists, stray dogs—and increasingly, curious tourists keen to stray off the well-trodden path. Even on this bright morning, Exarchia Square feels a little seedy. But the streets leading off it have a bohemian pulse.

A sharp contrast to free-wheeling Exarchia, the area around Panepistimio metro station is all about grand structures and powerbases. Centre-stage on Panepistimou is the Neoclassical Triad of Athens—the Academy, the Library and the University. “Take a closer look at the mural on the University,” invites Zoe. The majestic facade depicts nine muses in scenes from Greek mythology and history. We all laugh as she points out King Otto, disguised as a deity.
 

The walls get more graffitied and the people on the streets grow younger. Like Exarchia, Psirri is a working-class neighbourhood in an exciting state of flux. This downtown district of leather merchants, rebetika musicians and craft workshops was once ruled by the local mafia—“the mustachioed koutsavakides”—until the police booted them out in the 1920s. More recently, Psirri has morphed into a buzzy locale brimming with craft beer bars, antique shops, and design studios. Protogenous Street is filled with a hip, studenty crowd; scouting for treasures at second-hand shops like Guadeloupe or at graphic design troves like The Real Intellectuals (run out of a motorcycle accessories shop). Arty types are re-caffeinating at Barrett, a glam-grunge café and exhibition space. Outside Beer-time, two robed Orthodox priests share some downtime underneath a giant mural that seems a perfect metaphor for this eclectic neighbourhood.