Aiolou Street in Athens is arguably the navel of modern Greece—a street around which not just a city, but an entire nation began to take shape.
It is 1834. Athens has just been declared the capital of the newly independent Greek state, and the foundations of a national identity are being laid amid the rubble of revolution and centuries of Ottoman rule.
By the order of Ludwig I of Bavaria, father of the young King Otto, architects Stamatis Kleanthis and Eduard Schaubert are tasked with designing a European-style capital for the fledgling kingdom. He orders a design that includes all its archaeological sites and prohibits the demolition of any monument of its glorious past.
In their vision, Aiolou Street becomes the very first to be inscribed on the official city plan. As the street opens, it begins to pulse with life—soon becoming the vibrant spine of commerce, society, and politics in the city.
For decades, Aiolou Street will be where Athens breathes
Building regulations will first be enforced here. The city’s first hotel will open its doors along this stretch. It will house pioneering shops that define entire eras. It will introduce Athenians to sweet confections and that exotic new indulgence: chocolate.
The city’s first pharmacy will open here, as will its first theater. Later, this is where the technological marvel of the elevator will make its debut, altering the skyline and city life forever. Fiery political speeches will echo off its walls; from this street, governments will rise—and fall.
And it is here that the first daily wage workers from the countryside will make their modest beginnings: porters carrying household goods, polishers burnishing shoes and brass, newspaper vendors hawking the headlines of a modern Greece being born, one step at a time.
The truth is that after the Ottomans, Athens is a landscape trampled by its barbarians. Louis’ love, however, for ancient monuments, has led him to the decision to move the capital from Nafplio here, even though the city is nothing more than a small “bombed” town around the rock of the Acropolis, with just 4,000 inhabitants (at the same time, for example, Patras had 15,000 inhabitants!), 150 houses and ruins.
Those who do not have a roof find comfort in temples and archaeological sites. The only streets that are rudimentarily preserved in the shadow of the rock are that of the Lower Bazaar in Monastiraki, the other of Krystalliotissa (today’s Adrianou) and a little way from Rouga square in Alikokkou (Kydathenaion-Ag. Sotira)! All the others are covered in ruins and their inhabitants cross them on improvised paths.
“In Athens there is not a single paved road, not a single street, while at every step we are forced to step on piles of stones, on parts of walls and on ancient columns,” describes the first years of liberation by the French traveler and historian Joseph-François Michaud in his book “Journey to Greece and Smyrna.”
Aiolou, the first road to be laid in Athens
The first road to be laid in the new capital would span 15 meters in width, stretching from the ancient Clock of Kyrristos—the Tower of the Winds, adorned with reliefs of Aeolus’s wind-blown children—at the foot of the Acropolis, and extending outward from the city’s historic heart. It would be named “Aeolian Road,” a name it bore until 1884, when it was officially renamed Aiolou Street—a title that would enter the annals of modern Greek history.
This road, as early walkers described it, was “blessed”—its orientation a kind of quiet marvel. No matter where you turned your gaze, the looming presence of the Acropolis and its ancient monuments rose in the background, as if offering silent witness to the new era unfolding below.
By the end of the 19th century, British scholar, archaeologist and traveler David George Hogarth would capture its enduring allure in The Nearer East:
“The main road, which runs north from the Acropolis through the heart of the medieval and modern city, is named after the god of the winds […] it is the most charming road in Athens.”
Plans for the People’s Garden shelved
Kleanthis and Schaubert had envisioned something grand for Aiolou Street—what they called “the People’s Garden.” Their plan was bold and ambitious: a European-style square of mixed use, lined with elegant arcaded buildings, leafy trees, and fountains. It would be both residential and commercial, a civic space where everyday life could unfold with grace and order.
But the vision remained just that—a dream on paper. The young Greek state, newly liberated and hastily rebuilding, simply couldn’t afford the costly expropriations required. Resources were scarce, and priorities were pressing: sheltering a growing population, organizing infrastructure, and luring foreign visitors and investors.
With the collapse of the Garden plan, even the intended 15-meter width of Aiolou Street was sacrificed. Foreign and local interests in the capital had little appetite for wide boulevards and spacious squares. What they wanted—and what they built—instead were tightly packed plots: buildings, homes and shops that left little room for public space.
In fact, the redesign of Aiolou Street would prove to be a harbinger of what was to come—a relentless wave of dense, often destructive construction that future generations would only accelerate.
First wave of businesses in Aiolou Street
In the early 1830s, the street (then called Aiolian Street) emerged as the bustling heart of Athens, hosting the first wave of businesses in the nascent capital. Among the earliest ventures was a horse-drawn bus service (pamphores) by Bavarian agent Frederick Strong, linking Athens to Piraeus from the intersection of Aiolou and Ermou Streets. Soon after, landmark establishments shaped the street’s identity.
The “Hotel of Europe,” opened by the Italian Casali couple in 1832, became Athens’ first hotel, predating formal city planning. It later moved locations but remained iconic. In 1837, architect Stamatis Kleanthis opened Hotel Aeolos, the city’s first purpose-built hotel, at the intersection with Adrianou Street.
Cafés quickly followed, becoming political hubs. Most notable was “Beautiful Greece” café (1836), a key site of informal political discourse, often likened to a “people’s parliament.” The nearby “Café of the Fighters” catered to war veterans, while others like the elegant “Café of Europe” and “Café of the Elderly” (Haftas) added to the social scene.
Aiolou also saw Athens’ first bookstore (by German Vinzenz Rich in 1837), first pharmacy (Stamatis Krinos in 1855), and even its first theater stage (1836), marking it as the cradle of modern Athenian urban life.
In 1860, the Greek government paved the Aeolian and Ermaiki roads with gravel. Responsibility for paving the sidewalks, however, was assigned to the adjacent property owners, with each contributing a share of the cost proportional to the size of their holdings.
Contemporary press reports paint a chaotic picture of the undertaking:
“The Aiolou and Ermou roads have become impassable due to ongoing sidewalk repairs. Along their entire length, one sees trenches dug and stones piled high, obstructing passage entirely—especially for the ladies, who, hindered by their crinolines, are unable to enter any shop and curse the source of this torment a thousand times each hour…”
As the 20th century approached, Athens began to resemble a true capital city. Major thoroughfares—Aiolou Street foremost among them—were electrified. The number of foreign visitors steadily increased, and luggage porters began to appear on prominent corners. Elegant storefronts, like Sgourdas’ home goods shop and Goutakis’ clothing store, caught the attention of passers-by with their striking window displays.
The first elevator in Greece was installed in 1893
Then, on a summer Tuesday in 1893, an advertisement in the Athenian newspapers became the talk of the town:
“It is most pleasing to hear that the hammock (ascenseur), which has been in preparation for months at the grand hotel La Massalia, owned by the Kaftantzoglou family and located at the corner of Stadiou and Aeolou streets, was tested a few days ago by engineers and competent persons—and the results were a great success. Beginning tomorrow, Wednesday, when it officially begins operation, the residents on the second and third floors will find this new means of ascent to be a lifesaver, no less sophisticated than those in Paris or Vienna…”
Athens now had its first elevator—not only in the city, but in the entire country. The same advertisement joyfully announced that the next day, the “inauguration of this enormous hammock machine” would be held in the presence of the then police director, Bayraktaris.
But the optimism was short-lived. That winter, Prime Minister Trikoupis’ infamous declaration—“Unfortunately, we are bankrupt”—plunged the country, the city, and its bustling streets into crisis. Only the gambling houses and casinos, which had sprung up especially around Aiolou Street, seemed untouched, pulsing with activity.
Yet, despite the setbacks, Athens had firmly set its course toward becoming a European capital. Its population was growing rapidly, and by the turn of the century, it had acquired all the trappings of a major city—some sources of pride, others of shame. The city now boasted a modern water supply and electric lighting, a sharp contrast to French writer Edmond About’s earlier jab:
“The streets of Athens are lit by oil—except in the deep of night, when they rely on the light of the moon. Should the almanac be wrong, or the moon set early, the Athenians might well stumble to their deaths…”
Cars had also made their appearance, startling pedestrians who had yet to grasp the concept of sidewalks. At the city’s second traffic light—installed at the intersection of Stadiou and Aeolou (the first was at Stadiou and Pesmazoglou)—an astonishing 13,500 vehicles passed every 24 hours. That’s 10,000 more than the total population counted by King Otto when he chose Athens as the capital a century earlier.
And this was only the beginning.
Modern Aiolou Street: A vibrant thoroughfare in Athens
Today, Aiolou Street stands as a vibrant pedestrian thoroughfare in the heart of Athens, seamlessly blending its rich historical legacy with contemporary urban life.
The pedestrianization initiative in 2003 breathed new life into the area, transforming it into a bustling hub of activity. The street is now lined with a mix of neoclassical buildings and modern establishments, housing a variety of shops, cafes, and restaurants. Notably, the area around Agia Irini Square has emerged as a hotspot for dining and socializing, attracting both locals and tourists alike.
Aiolou Street also holds archaeological significance. Excavations have uncovered remnants of ancient Athens, including parts of the Themistoclean Wall and the Acharnian Gate, highlighting the street’s historical importance as a major thoroughfare since antiquity.
The article is based on a report by Tonia A. Maniatea that was published by the Athens-Macedonia News Agency
