Every day, he raises the shutters at “Mouria” a little after 7 a.m., well before most of the surrounding shops in Exarchia. One of the first sounds heard on the sidewalk is the clatter of chairs and tables being set out. Next, he checks the supplies.

The goal is to make sure there are enough appetizers to go with the patrons’ midday beer and siesta. He’ll also pick up the newspapers from the convenience store across the street. At the same time, he’ll be on the lookout for the first Greek beer that the morning customers will order.

Any moment now, a flame will engulf the entire briki from below.

This routine, which he repeats consistently, Christos Vanas adopted this routine in 1982.

“I chose to come here on my own; I liked this job,”, he tells the Orange Press Agency about the traditional café in Ano Exarchia that offers a haven to those worn down by the struggles of daily life.

And while he himself is about to mark half a century with a record in hand, Mouria has roots that reach even deeper into time, for to find the year of its opening, we must go back to 1915 —just nine years after Kallidromiou Street was incorporated into the city plan (1906), one of the two streets where it is located, along with Charilaou Trikoupi Street.

The café is even older than the neighborhood’s famous open-air market, which was relocated there from Stournari Street in 1949. Through its windows, the café’s patrons have witnessed the entire history of modern Greece, fragments of which can be found in the stories told by the older generation.

From a coffeehouse to a pharmacy

Christos Vanas is the seventh consecutive owner of the Mouria coffeehouse. Now, however, there is widespread concern that he may also be the last. That is why the memories he brings to light are meant to remind us, but also to warn that one of the most important landmarks of Exarchia and downtown Athens is in danger of being turned into a faceless intersection.

Mouria is under threat because, as recently revealed by the owner of the property where it is located, the intention is to change the space’s use and convert it into a pharmacy.

There are two more pharmacies on Kallidromiou Street and even more on Charilaou Trikoupi Street. As the regulars point out, what the neighborhood needs is something it can’t easily find elsewhere. A meeting place and a space that preserves the connection to different eras and generations.

Thousands of signatures, one hope

“I have so many wonderful memories here, and now I’m fighting to have this café designated as a historic landmark because I love it. It’s my life,” says Chr. Vanas, speaking with photographs of old gatherings at Mouria on the walls behind him.

The walls also feature drawings by many cartoonists. One by Stathis seems perfectly suited to the occasion. It depicts a mulberry tree and, below it, a table, with a man raising a toast, saying: “No one on their own.”

This prophetic message in the sketch came to life at the most opportune moment. According to Christos Vanas, nearly 7,500 people have signed—both in writing and online—his petition to preserve the coffeehouse as part of the city’s identity. A letter calling for the traditional coffeehouse to be designated a modern monument of contemporary cultural heritage by the Ministry of Culture’s Department of Modern Monuments and for its use to remain unchanged

A Coffeehouse Defying the Times

The news came as a bolt from the blue to the café’s regulars, who had also come up with the idea of collecting signatures. Everyone had a memory to share.

Erato Angouraki, who lives in the neighborhood, first learned about the café from her parents. She recalls, she tells Orange Press Agency, that when she was little, they would take her with them and stay there for hours chatting with their friends. Today, she does the same with her own group of friends. Upon hearing the news, she says she felt sad.

As she points out, what makes “Mouria” unique is that it remains resilient in the face of the current trend toward mass entertainment. “I think it’s important for ‘Mouria’ to stay open because it’s not just for show. And it has remained unchanged over the years; no matter how many trends come and go, this place has stayed the same for many, many years,” he says. Daily life at Mouria also stands in contrast to the general sense of alienation that city life tends to bring anyway. “You’ll always find someone you know here; you’ll always feel at ease here.”

Thanasis Asimakopoulos, a native of Exarchia, but also from the Asimakopoulos family, which owns the well-known pastry shop on Trikoupi Street—which opened the same year as Mouria, in 1915. “What I remember from around here, back when I was still in short pants, was that during the years 1962, 1963, 1964, all the EDA pre-election rallies. And I remember the police gathering all around and cordoning off the entire block for the EDA rallies.”

For Th. Asimakopoulos, this particular outcome stems from the state’s indifference. “All over the world, traditional establishments are protected by the state, and there are cafés dating back to the 1700s in Paris and Italy. Here, unfortunately, we’re closing them down one by one.”

An irreplaceable community

The “duo” that attracts the most attention and affection at Mouria, however, is Mr. Kostas and his little girl, Zelda. A little dog that sits almost constantly at his feet.

As Mr. Kostas revealed, the bond that develops between customers and the café is so strong that there’s a framed photo of Zelda on the wall and a chair with her name on it. He himself doesn’t want to even consider the possibility of Mouria closing down. “I think about it and say to myself, all these people who’ll be gathering here… Mouria’s clientele is special; they’re not the kind of customers who can easily go to other bars,” he observes, explaining that older patrons in particular find it a convenient option since most places are closed at noon, as the focus of entertainment shifts to the evening, when the young people go out.

But Erato believes it will also be a loss for the younger crowd. “I don’t know what to say; I really don’t want it to close—not at all,” she concludes with a heavy sigh.

“Let whoever wants it take over the shop. What matters to me is that it remains a café,” adds Christos Vanas with calm determination. Because Mouria is his life, but it is also the life of many others.

As the resolution states: “Mouria is a café. Mouria is also a doctor’s office and a law office, an amphitheater and a kindergarten. It is our literature and our arts. Mouria is where you leave your keys; it is the neighborhood. It is the first “good morning.”