If you are planning your time in the Greek capital, I keep a detailed Athens travel guide on The Travel Bunny that covers neighborhoods, history, and practical tips. It also has an up-to-date travel map with itineraries and anything else you might need to plan your trip.

This article focuses on something smaller, however.

On my repeated visits to Athens, I have visited the Acropolis in the heat. I have climbed the slopes with half the planet. I have tried to photograph the Parthenon without someone’s elbow in the frame. Athens does that to you. It pulls you toward its icons.

And then, one morning, I turned left instead of right.

That is how I started paying attention to the small Orthodox churches near the Acropolis.

Not the cathedral. Not the ones printed on souvenir magnets. The tiny ones with doors half open and no ticket booth in sight.

Agia Dynami, the church hiding under a building

I began at Agia Dynami on Mitropoleos Street, a short walk from Syntagma Square.

If you are not looking for it, you'll probably walk past it.

A small stone chapel sits tucked under a modern building, as if it refused to move when the city expanded around it. Cars rush by. People carry shopping bags. And there it is, stubborn and quiet.

I pushed the door. Inside, the noise dropped instantly. Inside, I found soothing candlelight, dark walls, and the faint smell of incense.

A woman stood near an icon. A man came in, crossed himself, lit a candle, and left. It all felt very intimate.

Agia Dynami dates back to the Ottoman period. That fact sounds academic on paper. In person, it feels compact and alive. The space is small enough that you become aware of your breathing.

I stayed only a few minutes, and it was enough.

Practical Athens Tips: Dress modestly. Shoulders and knees covered. No flash photography. If someone is praying, step aside. If you feel awkward, stand still and say nothing. Silence works everywhere.

Walking into Plaka without a plan

From Agia Dynami, I headed toward Plaka.

Plaka is a neighborhood with two personalities. The first is loud and photogenic, with souvenir shops, café menus in six languages, crowds drifting uphill. The second lives one alley away.

Turn into a narrow side street, and the tone shifts. You'll walk on stone steps with laundry overhead, pass by faded doors, supervised by the vigilant eyes of beautiful Greek cats.

This is where you start noticing church doors. Some are open. Some are barely open. Some look closed but move if you push gently. I don't knock. If the door opens, I step inside. If not, I continue.

That unpredictability is part of the charm.

Remember that you're not ticking boxes, you're just responding to what the city offers.

Agios Nikolaos Rangavas, still functioning eleven centuries later

One church I return to is Agios Nikolaos Rangavas in Plaka. It dates back to the 11th century.

Let that sit for a moment.

While tourists argue over skip-the-line tickets, this church has been here since the Byzantine era. It has survived occupations, earthquakes, wars, and fashion trends.

The first time I entered, the light was low. Candles lined one side. An older man stood near the entrance, hands behind his back, as if guarding time itself.

I didn't walk around inspecting details like in a museum. That would feel wrong.

Museums display, while churches host. You stand, you observe, and then you leave gently.

I am Orthodox by background. I don't attend services regularly as I did as a child, but I understand the gestures. Even if you do not, the atmosphere teaches you quickly.

No one expects you to perform, but they do expect you to respect.

The moment I realised this walk matters

On one visit, I entered a small church near the Roman Agora simply to escape the heat. A short service had just ended.

The priest greeted people by name. A woman adjusted a scarf before leaving. A child ran outside. An older man lit a candle for someone who was not present.

It lasted perhaps ten minutes, yet it told me more about contemporary Athens than any timeline ever could.

We often travel for monuments. But we stay for moments. And those are the ones we remember best.

Why you should add this to your Athens itinerary

Athens can overwhelm. The Acropolis demands attention. The Ancient Agora stretches wide. The marble reflects sunlight like a mirror. Your brain fills with dates and dynasties.

A small church resets your senses. You step inside for three or four minutes. Your eyes adjust. Your heartbeat slows. And you return outside calmer than before.

I like pairing this church walk with one major site in the morning. Acropolis early, before the cruise crowds arrive. Then the churches in Plaka. And then a long lunch on the cool terrace of a Greek taverna.

This rhythm works better than stacking monument after monument.

And yes, you will still see the Parthenon. You just won't feel defeated by noon. :)

Anafiotika, the uphill reward

After visiting Agios Nikolaos Rangavas, I usually continue uphill toward Anafiotika.

Whitewashed houses cling to the slope. Narrow passages twist unexpectedly. For a moment, you forget you are in the centre of Athens, and you imagine yourself in the Cycladic islands.

From here, you see the Acropolis differently. Not from below in a crowd. Not from above on a viewpoint platform. But as part of a layered city.

Ancient ruins, Byzantine churches, neoclassical facades, modern apartments with satellite dishes...

Athens doesn't hide its layers, it stacks them. And when you walk slowly through Plaka’s churches, you feel those layers rather than simply reading about them.

A small anecdote, because travel is also human

On one of my trips, I stayed near Syntagma. Every morning, I passed Agia Dynami on my way to coffee.

The first day, I entered out of curiosity. The second day, out of habit. By the third day, I nodded to the same woman arranging candles.

No conversation, just recognition.

The street outside remained chaotic, but the inside remained steady.

That is when Athens stopped feeling like a destination and started feeling like a city.

Also, a practical confession. On one visit, I told my husband I didn't need to step into another church. I was “done with churches.” Five minutes later, I spotted a half-open door and disappeared inside. He waited outside in the sun. When I came out, he rolled his eyes, but I was smiling.

How to plan this walk yourself

Set aside one hour.

Start at Syntagma Square. Visit Agia Dynami on Mitropoleos Street. Walk into Plaka without sticking to the busiest lanes. Enter any small church with an open door. Continue uphill toward Anafiotika.

Best time to visit? Early morning, before 10:00. How much does it cost? Completely free. What should you wear? Modest, simple clothing and comfortable shoes.

If you want deeper historical context before or after, read up on the Byzantine period in Athens so you understand what you are seeing. It adds depth without adding weight to your schedule.

Who this experience is for

If you want only panoramic photos and headline attractions, you might skip this.

If you want to understand how ancient, medieval, and modern Athens coexist in daily life, take the hour.

You don't need religious belief. You need curiosity and basic respect.

The Parthenon impresses. These churches humanise.

And sometimes, human scale stays with you longer than marble columns.

About the author

Hi! I’m Mirela Letailleur, the founder of The Travel Bunny, an award-winning European travel blog where I share cultural, slow, and budget-smart travel across Europe based on my own experiences. I focus on practical planning, real-life stories, and local context so you can build thoughtful itineraries without wasting time or money. If you’d like to know more about my background and approach to travel, join me on my blog.