Piraeus

Piraeus is not a resort town and it does not present itself as one. It is a port, a shipbuilding city, a working district of Athens, and it has the particular density and noise that implies.

What makes it worth visiting is a short list of specific things. The Archaeological Museum of Piraeus is the best of them by some distance: it reconstructs the history of the ancient harbour as an eastern Mediterranean trading centre, running from the Mycenaean period to the Roman, and it is emphatically not a museum of one local archaeological site but of the port as a subject. The Municipal Theatre of 1890-91 is one of the finest neoclassical survivals in Greece, and it still runs a season.

The two great marinas, Zea and Mikrolimano, are where the city meets pleasure craft, and they sit inside the port itself — which is unusual and gives Piraeus a texture the rest of Athens does not have. Around them is the nineteenth-century naval city, with the Austrian-built arsenal quarter and the old shipyards on the western side of the bay.

The waterfront is not a beach, and this needs saying plainly. Piraeus is a commercial port; the inner bay is anchorage and shipping. Nobody swims here.

Piraeus was made a port by Themistocles, and Thucydides describes the walls in some of the most concrete detail in Greek history. They were built 'of that thickness which can still be discerned round Piraeus, the stones being brought up by two wagons meeting each other. Between the walls thus formed there was neither rubble nor mortar, but great stones hewn square and fitted together, cramped to each other on the outside with iron and lead.'

Themistocles' argument for the walls was naval rather than defensive: he saw that an enemy could approach by sea more easily than by land, 'and he also thought Piraeus more valuable than the upper city'. The Athenians built two sets of long walls, one to Phalerum and one to Piraeus, and finished them after their victory at Oenophyta.

The port became the working gateway of the Greek state — and then of the modern Greek state. The 1913 naval Battle of Lemnos and the 1922 Revolution were both fought in Piraeus. And the catastrophe that transformed it was the Asia Minor refugee disaster of 1922-24: the arrival of more than a million refugees swelled the city enormously and permanently changed its character, in a way that is still legible in its architecture and its population.

The nineteenth-century expansion made it what it is now — the arsenal quarter, the shipyards, the railway, the markets — and it remains the chief port of Greece.

The name is recorded by Stephanus of Byzantium in the sixth century AD. His Ethnica is not a book of stories but a dictionary of Greek place-names, and for this one it says: "It is also called 'the sacred bird of Peiretēs', from the masculine name Peirētēs". (Ethnica, s.v. Πειραιός).

That is the whole of what an ancient source has to say about how the place got its name. It is a shorter answer than the guidebooks give, and it is the only one with a source behind it.

This is the awkward part of Piraeus and it is better to say it plainly: there is no beach. The inner bay is a commercial anchorage and the shoreline is quay.

The swimming is all outside the city, along the Saronic coast to the south and west, and on the far shore of the same bay.

The nearest is Kastella, about five kilometres south, the last low-rise seafront quarter, which has a marina and a handful of small shingle coves rather than a proper beach. Voula, at about six, is the first organised sandy beach and bay. Alimos, at about ten, is the Attica region's main seafront suburb, with a marina, a tram stop and a proper sandy waterfront. Palaio Faliro, at about eleven, has the old Faliro shore line and the restored Flisvos yacht club, and the Faliro Olympic Complex. Agios Kosmas, at about thirteen, is a marina with the Olympic rowing centre behind it.

Across the water is Aspropyrgos, about seven kilometres off, with its container terminal and refineries — and its own coast facing back at Piraeus. And across the straits, Salamina is five kilometres away and has beaches of its own, plus the site of the naval battle of Salamis.

In short: use Piraeus as a base for the port, the museum and the food, and swim from Alimos or the Salamis shore.

Piraeus eats like a port, which is a good thing.

The fish is the reason, and it is properly port fish — landed at the quayside and cooked simply. Fish tavernas along the waterfront and in the side streets around Zea and Mikrolimano are the thing to look for, and the Greek-Chinese, Sephardic and Neapolitan influences in the port city are a genuine part of the local cooking rather than a talking point.

Away from the water it is Athenian cooking, done well. The markets are good — the Varvakios covered market in the centre is one of the food halls worth going to, and the old market streets behind the port are where the trade is.

Eat where the boats come in, and be aware that the waterfront tables with the best views are the ones charging for the view.

Spring, from April into May, is the best: the light is good, the port is working and the crowds have not arrived. September and October are also very good. July and August are hot and Piraeus is at its most crowded and noisiest — though if you are here for the ferry or the cruise, that is when it is.

December to February is mild and, for a port, surprisingly quiet; the city is industrial and works through the winter. January is a good time to be here if you want the port rather than the coast.

Note that the port is genuinely year-round, so none of this is a question of whether Piraeus 'has' a season — only of whether you want crowds.

Piraeus is the easiest city in Greece to reach: the suburban railway from central Athens terminates here, and there are suburban and intercity trains. Eleftherios Venizelos airport sits on the Proastiakos suburban railway, with a 24-hour bus as well. Ferries and cruise ships arrive at a large port whose terminals are far apart, so allow more time than you think.

A car is a liability rather than an asset — parking is punishing and the metro covers everything.

The Archaeological Museum is the single thing to allow time for, and it is a working collection rather than a site, so give it a couple of hours.

If you are meeting a ferry or a cruise, remember that the port is large and the terminals are far apart; build in more time than you think. And if you want a swim, go to Alimos, not to the Piraeus waterfront — the difference is about ten minutes on the metro.