An Ode to Kifissia, or How I Survived the Northern Suburbs

An Ode to Kifissia, or How I Survived the Northern Suburbs

By Theodora Filis

Oh Kifissia! Jewel of Athens’ snooty crown,

A suburb set twenty clicks away from downtown,

Where luxury blooms and the hedges are neat,

And mansions line up in a perfectly straight elite.

Kassaveti Street: Prada, cafés, and posh shoes,

Kolokotronis: where the well-to-do muse,

On spacious parks where well-bred dogs run,

And every April, behold! The Flower Exhibition’s begun.

History oozes—Roman tombs by the lane,

Ancient air—fresh, unbothered by Athenian pain,

Detached houses, neoclassical, maintenance supreme,

Perfect for Instagram, or so it might seem.

The natural history museum whispers, “Behold!”

While outdoor cinemas serve popcorn (organic, we’re told).

And late-night cafés—oh, the bars never rest,

For sipping your espresso in tailored clothes is best.

A whole month in Pentelikon, pent-up, I confess,

Tough life, darling—Greece on a silver mattress.

I miss it all: the sun, the cypress, the breeze,

Meeting sun-kissed friends beneath imported trees.

Could I forget Frappe’? Perish the thought!

It’s just Nescafe—cheap, cold, and overwrought.

Some add milk, or sugar, but the locals are braver,

True Greeks drink it black—acquired taste, you savor!

I tried for years to match their stoic grit,

Now Frappe’ runs in my veins, I’ll admit.

Oh Kifissia! You’re Athens’ upmarket tease,

My home for two decades—where everything’s a breeze.