Fragments of Piraeus’ Underground History

Piraeus, the seaport of Athens, bears today the typical characteristics of any significant harbour around the world. A series of contrasts – wealth and poverty, misery and joy, dreams and grief – interweave into an exotic amalgam that maintains an odd sense of balance. But, above all, there is chaos, for the city streets, narrow and cramped, can hardly accommodate the overflowing traffic, and the locals’ hopes rest, among other things, on the upcoming tram and metro extensions – the delivery dates of which are perpetually postponed.

Despite the present disarray, Piraeus was, once upon a time, a paragon of urban planning, a prototype which, along with the town of Miletus on the western coast of Anatolia, influenced the design of cities from the Roman era to our days, creating the concept of our familiar urban grid.

When, after the end of the Persian Wars (5th c BC) and their favourable outcome for the Greeks, the Athenians built the Long Walls to protect the port next to their city, Piraeus developed from a meagre settlement into a flourishing town. Hippodamus of Miletus – a Greek architect, urban planner, physician, mathematician, and philosopher – was called to draw the plans of the new neighbourhoods, and, echoing the prevailing beliefs of his time, he created a city that focused on the well-being of its citizens rather than just the fulfilment of their habitation needs.

Streets were laid out, all perpendicular to each other, differentiating in size to allow for heavy, moderate, or minimum circulation respectively. They radiated from the central Agora (i.e. the market, often called “Hippodameia” in the architect’s honour), integrating the residential areas, the public sectors, and the sacred spaces efficiently, thus facilitating the interconnectivity within the city. On top of that, their orientation allowed the town to capture the breeze of the wind and the warmth of the sun, depending on the needs of the season. The blocks that resulted from this arrangement were divided into equal plots, which led to the rise of an “egalitarian” house-style according to which all residencies were alike, differing only in the location they occupied within the block.

Centuries passed by, the city followed the ebbs and tides of the fate of Athens, and the changes in culture led to architectural and urban developments as well. During the Hellenistic period, some houses were merged into larger residences, while, later, the Romans created even more luxurious villas. Gradually, new buildings were constructed on top of older ones, resulting in layers of underground history which, today, are difficult to explore since modern Piraeus sits in its entirety on the remains of the ancient city. There are only a few fragments here and there available for the interested visitor to see, while a large part of the city’s archaeological wealth is now revealed thanks to the excavations performed for the metro expansion.

 

One of the most critical challenges the city had to resolve since its inception was the water supply. Initially, following the common practice of the time, there were several wells around the neighbourhoods to cover the needs of the residents. However, the increase in the population and the insufficient aquifer led to shortages and dictated the need for alternative solutions. As such, underground cisterns, at least 15 m³ large, were constructed to collect the rainwater – the houses themselves often operating as rain collectors. As years passed by and the needs of the population continued to rise, people tried to expand the capacity of the reservoirs by increasing their size (up to 25 m³ in the Hellenistic times, and 90 m³ in the Roman era), opening dead-end tunnels adjacent to the cisterns, or connecting several tanks together. Finally, the Romans constructed aqueducts to support the requirements of their public baths and fountains, bringing water from the nearby mountains and Kifissos River.

During the recent excavations, around 330 wells and 380 underground reservoirs have been discovered in Piraeus, most, though, remaining for the time being inaccessible to the public. There is only one exception, hidden at the second basement of a building, somewhere between the main port and Pasalimani.

The building – tucked away in a small, insignificant street, full of fragrant, sour-orange trees and grotesque apartment houses – belongs to the Christian Youth Organisation and, despite its neoclassical façade, it has been only recently built. The earlier edifice (a 19th-century, stone construction) erected at the same location was severely damaged during the 1999 earthquake, hence, its demolition and re-building were decided. During the process, under a slab, one of the ancient cisterns of Piraeus was discovered, and the owners decided to change the building’s plans – biting the bullet of a significant budget increase – so that the reservoir could be preserved, remaining available for the public to explore.

Next to the main entrance of the building, the upper side of the cistern can be observed, covered with a transparent lid, surrounded by architectural elements of a neoclassical style. The entry to the reservoir is located at the second basement which, besides being a visiting ground, also hosts a chapel dedicated to Saint George.

 

Naturally, the reservoir had no doorway; the existing gate was devised merely to facilitate the exploration of the structure. The cistern follows the bell- or pear-shaped form that was common in antiquity, with the bottom part acting as a collector of the heavier elements (like sand, stones, etc.) that could be found in the water. As the water level rose, a carved canal would direct it to the nearby well, and from there it could be retrieved by the community. The locals in the neighbourhood admit they were aware of the well’s existence, but they always believed it was not more than 100 years old. The fact that it turned out to be an archaeological treasure, supported by the unknown – until recently – reservoir took everyone by surprise, giving them pride but, mostly, a sense of responsibility towards this hidden gem that Providence bestowed in their care.

 

Nowadays, this modest basement welcomes dozens of visitors who wish to peek at a fragment of the city’s ancient past. Although the construction, in its simplicity, may seem moderately attractive to many, it is a good reminder of the structure of earlier societies, the challenges of daily life, and the appreciation we should hold for the natural resources that we consume. The ease with which water is accessible in most modern homes today has made us forget that this infrastructure is a very recent achievement while, for thousands of years, people, especially in dry regions like Greece, have been struggling to cover their particular needs. The current global water crisis results from a few decades of disrespect. Learning from our past may offer us the gratitude and understanding that is required for the improvement of our future.

Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou

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