Lykavittos Hill

We met at the entrance, and climbed the hill together, the slim German woman and I. She wore tall black boots, tight jeans, and a black sweater, held the thick leather leashes of her two ferocious dogs tight. She spoke to them in a curious mixture of German and Greek, when they didn’t mind, she blew a shrill whistle. We chatted awkwardly to each other about being in Greece, about our families at home, about horses, about nothing. Neither of us knowing whether we should be friends, or what we were doing climbing the hill together. We were shy the way that only pairs of young women can be, as if there are secrets waiting to be spoken, a hidden meaning behind words and gestures.

As we slowly wound our way up and around the hill on paths that had long been beaten though the scrubby brush, the air seemed to become clearer. It was warm, and as we walked, the strangeness of the inner-city forest grew more and more like a scene I would imagine in a fairy tale. Suddenly, we were sisters, escaping the evil dirt and congestion of Athens, entering this thin spittle of forest that grew thicker the further up we went. From half way up the hill, we could see the smog hanging over the tracks of street below us. When we passed though a patch of sun, I slowed, opening my palms to feel the soft warmth against my skin. I was alive but dilute, as if I were living in remembered moments. We rose gently, curving over and around the hill, cutting back and forth so as to avoid the steepest paths. Living in a big city, one shares experiences with strangers everyday, but it is rarely acknowledged. Here on the hill, we were alone, seeing no one but each other. We stole glances shyly, feeling strange to openly share an experience with a near stranger, but the self-consciousness wore off. Here we were, two young women and two large dogs running off their leashes. The further up we went, the more distant we felt from our everyday selves. We could no longer hear the traffic, or anything beyond the sound of our own voices, our footsteps, and the dogs. It was as if we had entered another world, an island that hovers between earth and sky. Taking large steps as we went up, we descended quickly, our conversation running dry. At the gate to the street, we parted silently, and walked our separate ways into the city.

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