Athens

Yes, everyone goes. Go anyway — at opening time or the last two hours, never midday in summer. Standing under the Parthenon's columns is one of the few famous things that's better than its photographs.

Built over an excavation you can see through the glass floor, with the Parthenon sculptures displayed in line of sight of the temple they came from. Do it the same day as the rock — it completes the sentence.

Where Socrates actually walked and argued — and, unlike the Acropolis, you can wander it under trees, nearly alone. The Temple of Hephaestus in the corner is the best-preserved Greek temple anywhere.

The best-preserved ancient Greek temple anywhere — standing almost whole above the Agora, it shows you what the Parthenon once looked like.

The all-marble stadium that hosted the first modern Olympics in 1896 — you can run the track and sit on the tiers where the Athens Marathon still finishes.

Sixteen colossal columns of what was once the biggest temple in Greece — it took 638 years to finish. Ten minutes, best through Hadrian's Arch on the walk between Plaka and the museum.

The marble gateway Hadrian raised between the old Greek city and his new Roman one — a two-minute stop beside the Temple of Olympian Zeus.

The gold Mask of Agamemnon, the bronze Zeus mid-throw, the Antikythera mechanism — the greatest collection of Greek antiquity on earth, in a building most visitors never make it to. Give it two unhurried hours.

A tiny whitewashed island village built illegally into the Acropolis slope by Cycladic stonemasons in the 1840s — and still lived in. Ten minutes of lanes barely a shoulder wide, and most tour groups walk straight past the entrance.

Sunday morning is the real thing — junk, icons, army surplus and vinyl spilling onto Avissinias Square, with the Acropolis looking down on all of it. Haggle a little; it's expected and it's fun.

The other hill — higher than the Acropolis, with the whole city and the sea laid out to the horizon. Walk up through the pines or take the funicular; either way, be there when the light goes orange.

The classic photograph of the Acropolis — level with it, full-frontal, pine trees framing the marble — is taken from here, and the walk up is ten shaded minutes. Locals' sunset spot; bring something to drink.

The changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier — pom-pom shoes, slow-motion high kicks, completely serious and utterly hypnotic. On the hour, every hour; the full ceremonial version is Sunday 11am.

Athens' true street food: pork or chicken off the spit, tzatziki, tomatoes, chips in the wrap, about three euros. The places around Monastiraki and Agia Irini square argue about who's best — join the argument.

The city's stomach — fishmongers shouting, whole lambs, olives by the barrel. Loud, bloody and completely real. The tavernas inside serve workers' food from dawn; eat where the butchers eat.

A pedestrian lane in Koukaki where the whole neighbourhood spills out — students, bouzouki, cheap wine, tables to the walls. Where Athenians actually drink, minutes from the Acropolis.

The Greek blues, played live and loud in smoky Psyri basements till 3am — order a carafe and let the strangers at your table teach you the words. The most Athenian night you can have.

The marble Temple of Poseidon on a headland at the tip of Attica, an hour down the coast — where the Aegean turns gold at sunset. A magical, romantic end to a day.

A string of smart beaches and a warm mineral lake ringed by cliffs, a tram or drive from the centre. Where the city swims in summer.

A serene 11th-century Byzantine monastery in a pine forest on Mount Hymettus, minutes from the city — frescoes, a spring, and birdsong. A green, holy escape from the streets.