Street of Dreams: Where I've Been Living Lately
- Themi Alexandra
- Jul 12
- 8 min read
It’s been my experience in Athens that dreams are like dominos. One leads to the next. My big dream was to come here and learn Greek. It wasn’t long after I got here that other dreams started coming true too. Maybe one unlocks the door and allows the rest space to enter. I can’t help but think that’s true lately…
I walked around the Plaka one afternoon and I realized how good I felt in my body after a challenging week one (Stuck In A Moment). I was hitting my stride so I asked a stranger to capture the moment. As she handed my phone back she said it looked like a magazine with my dress blowing in the breeze. It made me look down at what I was wearing, a cream shirtdress with a blue pattern. When I bought it last year I wished that one day I would get to wear it in Greece. Wish granted.
That photo was a turning point. It made me realize how many smaller dreams or wishes (are wishes just smaller dreams? An interesting semantic sidebar for another time) I had either forgotten or lost sight of, like the dress. You can get stuck thinking that a dream needs to be something massive like winning the lottery. It was a lesson that dreams come in all sizes and the smaller ones are just as important.
Once I let my mind wander into Dreamville I found I had several specific to Athens. I dreamt of going to the Athenian bars featured in Maestro in Blue as I watched from my couch in Chicago back in 2023. So while I’m living here and rewatching Maestro I decided it was time to scout out those bars. First I Googled if any official location tours were available, like the “Yes, Chef” tour in Chicago of restaurants featured on The Bear. Nothing official exists so it was time for this officially big fan to take matters into her own hands.
My second search was for “Maestro Athens locations” with several a mere bus ride from my homebase. I was thrilled to see more of Athens by navigating to a new neighborhood, while also weaving myself into the fabric of one of my favorite shows. The highlight of my unofficial tour was Briki bar.
I enjoyed that it took me on my longest bus ride to date, 40 minutes southeast, where Klelia meets Orestis after he ghosts her in the season one finale. As I locked the jewel box bar in my sights, I stopped across the street to take an exterior pic. I remember thinking that I looked like a total tourist as I held my phone up and I didn't care. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I made eye contact with a delivery rider (yes, rider not driver, since scooters are the delivery vehicle of choice and Wolt seems to be the leading app) approaching from Briki.
I smiled and as he closed the gap between us he started speaking. My mind was telling me “Busted! He’s mocking you for being a tourist.” I told him I didn’t understand, so he switched to English and said “I just wanted to say you have a beautiful smile.” I laughed, thanked him, and confessed that I thought he was mocking me. He did ask why I was taking a picture of “this place?” in verbal air quotes implying that it was some sort of dump. I told him it’s on my tv show and he said “This bar is on tv?!” incredulously. I told him about Maestro and he said his sister watches the show. I told him he should try it and crossed the street to enter.
Inside I found one of the more charming bars I’ve laid eyes on. From the dark wall color, to the tree twined in fairy lights, Briki envelops you in its cozy charm. What it lacks in size it makes up for in character, that even tv couldn’t quite capture. And like any watering hole worth its salt, it’s the kind of space you can imagine losing track of time in. I’ve never felt more comfortable at a bar alone taking in the people, the vibe, and the soul music it’s known for spinning.
One drink later I floated out of Briki and back to the bus stop. I was high on the experience of expectations being exceeded. As if by mitosis, my Maestro dream spontaneously multiplied when I strung the location visits into a series of IG stories and tagged Christopher Papakaliatis, the creator of the series who also writes/directs/stars as Orestis. I figured his chances of seeing them were as good as the chances of winning the lottery.
Maybe I should play Powerball because Papakaliatis not only saw my story, he responded! I squealed when I saw his string of prayer hands and red hearts. If you read Schoolin’ Life you know how badly I want to pick his brain. I may not be picking his brain (yet) but he saw me, however briefly, and that connection matters to me, because it’s a reminder that even the far fetched dreams stand a chance.
One of the further afield dreams I wished upon Athens was to meet locals IRL. The ultimate dream being the authentic Athenian kafenio experience: drinking coffee while whiling away the afternoon talking about everything and nothing. I went to Athens with the hope of making friends during my stay. When I met Tina’s friends (Don’t You (Forget About Me)) it made me wistful, like the woman in White Christmas who iconically says “I sure wish it would happen to me.” I became less and less hopeful this would happen as the weeks went by.
And then one morning during my fifth week I was having breakfast on my balcony as I did every morning before. I was sipping on my second cup of coffee and reviewing my Greek vocabulary aloud when I heard “Kalimera” (Good Morning) from a voice that wasn’t mine. I looked up to find a shirtless man on the balcony across the street looking expectantly for a response. After I compute that this handsome half naked man is talking to me, I blurt out “Kalimera” back.
We have a short conversation exchanging names and chero polis (nice to meet you) in Greek. He steps back inside, which I took as the end of the conversation. Seconds later he reappears as he pulls a shirt over his head. We talk a little while longer in English about what I’m doing here, learning Greek, which is when he shares that he is a teacher and teaches Greek. After he goes inside for good, the avid women’s television watcher in me is already mentally scripting this Hallmark movie: meet-cute leads to Greek lessons, which leads to us falling in love, and me staying in Greece. Before I can roll credits on this mental picture, someone else steps onto the same balcony.
Dear Reader, meet Agatha. She also lives across the street. It’s like the line from “Ironic” about meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife. Agatha’s roommate Vasili fit the casting call for my MMC: foreign and dark haired (with bonus points for tattoos).
I find potential along my travels with almost the same frequency I collect stamps in my passport (Get Back To Where You Once Belonged, The Way You Make Me Feel, Once Upon Another Time). Meeting Vasili and then his apparent live-in girlfriend tracked with the teachings of my Argentine trio, timing truly is everything.
I had neighbors I knew by name and another meet-cute worthy of fiction (All I Wanna Do). From that morning on, I chatted across the balcony with both of them and found myself looking forward to it. From our cross-the-street chats, Vasili told me about his Che Guevara one-man show he was preparing in Spanish. I excitedly told him my Spanish is better than my Greek and our chats soon switched to Español…so much for those Greek lessons!
Che would debut after I left, so he invited me to a rehearsal. Which is how I found myself at their apartment for coffee and an on-demand performance on my second to last day in Athens. I came with koulourakia in hand (traditional Greek cookies with egg glaze on top) excited to make my coffee with locals dream come true, and at a local's home no less. I was warmly greeted into their apartment and into the kitchen to watch Agatha prepare our Greek coffee (the dream just gets better). As excited as I was to be there, they were equally excited to have me and eagerly asked if I was their first visit.
My first home. My first coffee with locals. And my first play in Athens. The word rehearsal made me envision something casual, possibly him reading off book while Agatha and I watched. I took a seat on the couch not knowing what to expect. I’m always a little apprehensive about watching someone perform. Performing is so darn vulnerable that at times I almost feel guilty for watching, like I’m a voyeur intruding on their personal space. And then there’s the fear it won’t be any good and I won’t know what to say after. That fear quickly vanished as I was transported to Argentina. This wasn’t a rehearsal. This was a full on performance.
Vasili played to his lone audience member as if it was a packed house while Agatha directed the show, coordinating all the audio and lighting cues. The other show was watching how easily they interacted and how invested in and familiar with the material they both were. I had plenty of things to applaud about the passionate performance. I gave him a standing ovation for the time, effort, and creativity that went into writing and finishing the play. As a fellow writer I recognize that sometimes completing the piece is the hardest part.
The next day was my last in Athens and for once leaving a city didn’t feel bittersweet. I felt content as I sipped coffee on my balcony. My cup was full and I was ready to return home. I was about to step inside and start packing when Agatha and Vasili came outside. They asked if I wanted to go out for coffee. I said “Veveos!” (one of my favorite words to say in Greek that means ‘of course’). I couldn’t wait to see where the locals go.
Soon after I found myself sitting along Agias Zonis, a street so familiar by now it felt like home, at a kafenio called Arizona Dream. It felt oddly perfect to be with my new Athenian friends at an American named spot, living out my kafenio dream. And like so many of my Athenian dreams, this one expanded into something greater than I imagined. I was living my dream in real time - a beautiful afternoon in Kypseli, sitting outside, sipping coffee, and talking about Che with Agatha and Vasili - when in quick succession two of their friends walked by and joined us at the table.
There I was surrounded by locals, having a great time, when one of my restaurant friends crossed the patio. From the table I greeted Dimitri in Greek and in that small moment I felt like a local. This whole time in Athens I’ve been following that feeling, to “feel like a local,” but what I’ve really been looking for is belonging. Belonging to a city. Belonging to a people. Belonging to a culture. All to feel more connected to the spirits that brought me here, my grandparents (Right Here And Now). Well, yiayias and papous, I did it. I found it on my last day and I can’t think of a better way to bid a city goodbye.
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