A Portrait of Greece

It’s been almost two years since we were in Greece, and all the while these photos have been languishing in an abandoned file waiting to become the chosen ones. At last their time has arrived.

Any regular followers of the blog know I like to photograph the people of the places we visit. What catches my eye can be a colourful background; something that’s mundane but somehow also iconic; interesting movement; or images of the people that seem to capture the spirit of place.

These first three photos are of kids on a school excursion to Anafiotika, a unique neighbourhood of Athens. Anafiotika feels mysterious, unusual, and somehow impenetrable with its whitewashed walls and tiny narrow lanes and stairways. But to get there you pass through this somewhat uninviting, graffiti-and-street-art-covered passageway sprouting weeds and a few hardy mediterranean plants. And it’s here, against the background of the vibrant street art that I see the kids.











Beneath the Acropolis, along the southern side, there’s a wide pedestrian boulevard known as Dionysiou Areopagitou where tourists gather, and locals stroll at the end of the day. It’s here that I see Rainbow-Bubbles-Man. No doubt he’s hoping to entice payment from the tourists for creating such beauty. I don’t know if he makes a living at it, but he definitely makes spectacular bubbles.








Seen in Varvakeios Agora, the central market of Athens, a Greek Orthodox priest,





and at a cafe I play peek-a-boo with a little girl sitting at a nearby table.








From Athens we travel by overnight ferry to Crete. We spend a few days in and around Chania, and then take a bus across the island through blooms of yellow gorse and pink oleander to Heraklion. I’d wanted to go to Heraklion to fulfill a 50-year-old yearning to see Knossos. It did not disappoint. Neither did Heraklion. We are there in June, shoulder season, and there are very few tourists. Everywhere we wander there are groups of locals, the people of the city, going about their daily lives,








hanging out at bars and cafes,











and shopping along the central market street.





At Koules, the local fortress, we encounter another school excursion,





and at the 900-year-old Bembo Fountain at the end of the market street we watch the pigeons being fed.





One day sitting in a cafe watching world go by I see these two men. I wish I’d caught the moment when they hugged each other. I got the feeling from their exclamations and body language that they were old friends who had not seen each other for a long time. The hug was wonderful, uninhibited, real. Not one of your careful man-to-man North American/Australian hugs, lasting a second or two with a couple of slaps on the back to show how manly you are. No, this was a full-body hug brimming with happiness and affection and real connection. Then I watched them have the most joyous and animated conversation. They were delighted. I was delighted.





Another day, another cafe, and another colourful background. How could I possibly resist?




















From Heraklion we take the ferry to Santorini, and then to Naxos where this next photo was taken,





and from there a ferry to Milos. Plaka, the capital of Milos, sits atop a cliff. We follow the tiny local trail from Plaka down to the water and the fishing village of Klima. After exploring Klima we make a foolish decision; we decide to walk back up to Klima via the road. Hot. Steep uphill. Really hot. Dying from the heat. Relentlessly uphill. No shade anywhere. No sidewalks. Traffic. At the top, in the maze of pedestrian-only ancient stone streets we are searching for ice cream, and find a restaurant that offers some. While eating our life-saving ice cream I quickly snap this cyclist as he passes by.





This is not all of them. I have a collection of photos of people at the beach. Maybe one day they’ll see the light of day too. But not just yet.





You can find all posts about Greece – Athens, Crete, Santorini, Naxos, and Milos here


Disclaimer: As a general rule, if a photographer is shooting in a public space, such as a street or a park, s/he will usually have the right to do so without the consent of the subjects. Generally speaking if it is in the public domain, you can take a picture of it. Photojournalism and street photography would not exist if permission to take the photo was required. If anyone objects of course I don’t take the photo, or if it’s already done I have them witness me deleting it. In some countries, eg India, people love to have their photo taken, and frequently request it. I always try to be discreet. Quite frequently it creates lovely interactions between myself and the subject. I have found it to be an overwhelmingly positive experience.





Next post: In 1980, the year I turned 30, I did an extraordinary four-month overland expedition through Africa from Port Elizabeth (now Gqeberha) on the south coast of South Africa up through the eastern countries, through central Africa to the western side of the continent, then north to Morocco, and so across the Gibraltar Straight to Spain and thence to London. There were ten of us living in an ex-army Bedford truck, and wild camping. I’m excited to finally start writing about and sharing this truly epic journey.








All words and images by Alison Louise Armstrong unless otherwise noted
© Alison Louise Armstrong and Adventures in Wonderland – a pilgrimage of the heart, 2010-2024.