They say it’s harder to stay on top than it is to climb to the top. In this light, the news that Greece again takes the top spot for 2026 in the Henley Residence Program Index, one of the best-known international indices for evaluating investment-based residence permit programs, is more significant than last year’s. Back then, Greece had climbed to the top of the index for the first time, surpassing Portugal, which had been there for nearly a decade.

This first place is not just a symbolic distinction. Henley & Partners’ index assesses the world’s most important “residence by investment” programmes, looking at factors such as the amount of investment required, tax policy, flexibility of residence, quality of life, speed of application processing and accessibility to other countries. It is essentially a comparative map of the options available to international investors when looking for a second home base or a “plan B” for their future.

Dimitris Potiropoulos, Potiropoulos+Partners

Athens is a European capital that is still searching for its identity, which is why it is difficult to fully understand it. It is a contradictory city. On the other hand, the mere thought that you can find anything you want, whenever you want it, is fascinating for people who enjoy improvisation. The good thing about our city is that you never get bored. It is like an endless adventure unfolding before you as you discover its countless unknown corners. But also its familiar ones.

The National Garden, an oasis in the center of Athens just a few meters from Syntagma Square. Your gaze fills with green, the atmosphere becomes lighter, and the noise of the city slowly fades away. Here I find the calm that is missing from my daily life. Near the entrance from Dionysiou Areopagitou you come across the small café I love to visit: a few tables under the shade of the trees and a lush green arched pergola. Simple—this is exactly what relaxes me. It offers me a few moments of peace in nature, reconnecting me with a more human way of life. Sometimes with a friend to share a few words, and sometimes alone with a book for company, I feel as if I am transported to another world.

Every city has many faces. I am speaking about the face that Athens reveals to the “initiated.” It is the dynamic, evolving image that emerges from the feeling that beyond the buildings and the streets, beyond the urban problems that trouble us, the city is also the time you spend with it, your friends, and your hangouts: Dipórto in the Market, in Theatre Square. Nikitas in Psyrri Square, and Trifylli next to the Panathinaikos stadium. Argoura in Tzitzifies, Kanaria in Moschato, also Takis in Tavros, and Kastello, the Karpathian café in Koumoundourou. Styl & Café in Psyrri. Also Ratka in Kolonaki, and nearby Codice Blu. Rock n Roll further down, and further north Balthazar. And even further north, in Psychiko, Ombra. And Hochlikaki. As for walks: in Thiseio, Monastiraki, Psyrri, and Filopappou. And in Psychiko, where I grew up, and in Filothei—with a stop at the Old Market for coffee.

Giorgos Tsolakis, Tsolakis Architects

Athens is full of hidden spots scattered throughout its urban fabric, small pauses that simply wait for you to notice them. They do not reveal themselves easily; they introduce themselves discreetly, almost by chance, along your daily route.

I am fortunate to work in the city center, on one of its most historic axes, Vasilissis Sofias Avenue. In the summer, just before the sun disappears, the sunset aligns with the sidewalk leading toward Parliament. The light spreads along the street and everything transforms into golden surfaces—the façades, the leaves of the trees, the shadows of passersby. For a few minutes, the city resembles a theater stage lit by an invisible set designer.

One such afternoon, as I was walking down the sidewalk, I noticed something sparkling in the air. Tiny drops were floating as the rays of the sun passed through them, creating an almost fairy-tale feeling. For a moment I felt as if I were inside a dreamlike scene. Of course, reality quickly revealed the cause: a broken gutter dripping continuously. And yet, the magic was not undone. On the contrary, it was confirmed. The city had created, out of something completely ordinary, an unexpected moment of beauty.

These small urban revelations fascinate me. The small restaurants that spread out onto narrow sidewalks between parked cars next to bitter orange trees, yet still preserve the feeling of an old neighborhood. The fleeting glimpses of the hills of the Attica basin appearing between apartment buildings.

And then, the National Garden. I could not fail to mention it. The small wooden bridge hidden among the trees seems to belong to another place and another time. Many times I deliberately make a detour toward the center so that I can pass by the pond with the ducks. A quiet moment in the heart of the bustling city, reminding me of the Japanese bridge from Monet’s paintings.

I could list dozens more such places. But perhaps the essence lies not in cataloguing them, but in our willingness to seek them out. Athens is not only intensity, movement, and contrasts. It is also those brief, almost imperceptible pauses that grant us moments of calm within the complexity of life. And perhaps its true charm lies exactly there—in the small, unpretentious moments that, if you pause for a while, transform everyday life into something almost magical. That is why I love this city so much.

Dimitris Tsingos, Omniview Design

My favorite neighborhood in Athens is where our office is located, at the corner of Evripidou and Agiou Markou, near the Central Market.

Athens is not a “beautiful” city in the classic postcard sense of Rome or Paris. Yet in those blocks one encounters an incredible layering of architectural styles—modernist buildings, neoclassical ones, art deco—mixed together in an almost chaotic way that, for me, is extremely interesting.

Within this mosaic survive particular building typologies, such as the arcade. I deeply believe that the arcade typology should also be integrated into contemporary design: it protects from the sun and the rain, creates a sense of familiarity, and forms a unique, cozy urban core of commerce and social gathering.

Added to all this is the intense multicultural character of the area—colors, smells, languages. This social and architectural layering composes an urban “recipe” which, despite its disorder, completely wins me over.

The top of Lycabettus Hill is my all-time favorite spot. I don’t know how many times I have run up there, exercising on every step and landing, just to stand at the summit as the light fades. I then come down on my skateboard, after first watching Athens at dusk.

It is a place that needs little description. It has a vintage, romantic nostalgia that is difficult to convey in words. From there, the city reveals itself completely, in the most honest way.

And then there are the southern beaches. Athens is often identified with its urban character, but it truly comes alive when you see it as a coastal city. From Varkiza and Vouliagmeni to Kavouri, the urban beaches carry something of an effortless belle époque atmosphere: meeting points, places of relaxation, transitions from the intensity of the city to a slower, brighter reality.

What is interesting is that I have not chosen—and would not immediately choose—to live by the sea. I prefer to be in the core of the urban fabric and be able, in a very short time, to escape into a completely different landscape and watch a sunset by the waves.

Pavlos Chatzangelidis, 314 Architecture Studio

My favorite place is my home in Glyfada, where I like to spend weekends relaxing. Another one is the beach at Vouliagmeni—especially when there are southern winds and the waves rise. It is my favorite place for surfing and kitesurfing in Attica.

Finally, I usually take a drive on Sundays toward Sounio, as it is my favorite route. I really enjoy driving along this coastal stretch from Glyfada to the Temple of Poseidon.

There is also one particular spot that holds special importance for me, where I always stop. It is on a bend in the road opposite a small island just before Sounio, a place where I used to stop with my father and look at the view together. That stretch, for me, has a very special energy—and it is something I will never forget.