Mad Dash To the Start

You might have to go as far back as the age of Pericles, in the 5th century B.C., to find a time of such frantic — and transforming — construction in Athens. Everywhere you turn, workers are digging roadbeds, throwing up scaffolding, building overpasses — all in anticipation of Aug. 13, 2004. That’s when the Olympics come home for the first time since 1896, the year Athens hosted the first Games of the modern era. No one is suggesting that the new Nikaia Weightlifting Hall matches the Parthenon for elegance or grandeur. Nor is the new Olympic Village being carved out of marble from Mount Pentelicus, the pride of ancient architects. But the tempo of building is impressive — even Periclean. And it comes not a moment too soon. The Games begin in less than 690 days — as digital countdown signs at major construction sites helpfully remind the workers — and despite remarkable progress in recent months, serious doubts remain about whether all the projects will be completed on time.

In April 2000, Juan Antonio Samaranch, then president of the International Olympic Committee (I.O.C.), warned that the Games were endangered by delays in construction and planning. Heads rolled in Athens. Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki, who had led the bid to secure the Games for the city, was brought back in May 2000 to head ATHOC, the Athens Organizing Committee. She got results. She reorganized ATHOC, forged close links with the Greek government and by weight of her formidable personality steamrolled the opposition and made contractors meet deadlines. In recent weeks, a stream of I.O.C. officials has visited Athens and issued complimentary statements. “A lot of progress has been made, and things are moving quickly,” says Denis Oswald, chairman of the I.O.C. Coordinating Commission. “I am confident that in the end we’ll be ready on time.”

Still, I.O.C. officials — many of whom are, after all, punctual Swiss — remain nervous. They fret that any further delay, no matter how slight, will be disastrous. Greek officials smile and shrug. We are a last-minute people, they say. It is a national characteristic to leave things to the end. The work will be done.

A relaxed national character is not what’s causing most delays. Protests are the problem. Dig nearly anywhere in Athens and you come across antiquities, like the fragments from a second century A.D. Roman aqueduct built by the Emperor Hadrian discovered on the site of the Olympic Village. After delays caused by negotiations with the department of antiquities, Olympic officials decided to include the ancient ruins as part of the village’s design. Want to build a sailing center on the site of the Battle of Marathon? Not so fast. First you have to take apart three 4,500-year-old homes — and move them 50 yards. Want to widen the road from Marathon to Athens? Citizens went to court to save ancient trees along the route. “It’s our way of democracy,” says Panos K. Protopsaltis, ATHOC’s general manager for transportation. “We let everybody appeal.

Most of the court cases and the protests have now been resolved. “It’s quite amazing and encouraging,” says Gunilla Lindberg, an I.O.C. member who recently visited Athens. “Six months ago, the Olympic Village was just a blank hillside. Now the buildings are up.”

But much remains to be done. ATHOC has yet to put out tenders for a new boxing facility, much less break ground. A site for the 11 soccer matches to be held in Athens has yet to be found. Aek Stadium, the planned venue, suffered earthquake damage in 1999 and was deemed unsuitable. Negotiations to secure the Karaiskaki Stadium, home of the Olympiakos football team, collapsed in bickering. The delay in building and securing venues has meant that many of the 40 test events held to iron out wrinkles in the sporting facilities have been delayed. Some tests will now take place as late as May 2004, leaving just three months to make fixes.

Building venues for the 28 sports — not to mention housing for 10,500 athletes, 21,000 journalists, 3,100 judges and officials — is only part of this massive exercise. Hundreds of thousands of fans, athletes, journalists, volunteers and staff have to be moved from place to place, and Athens — with its ancient, narrow, car-choked streets — is a transportation nightmare at the best of times. The Greek government has been spending billions of euros building a new airport (successfully completed), new metro lines (mostly completed), 100 km of new highways (far from completed) and a new light-rail and tram system (only just begun). “By the time the Games begin, Athens will be a different city,” says transportation manager Protopsaltis. “We will totally change the way it functions and that will be the legacy of the Olympics to Athens.” If, that is, the dozens of projects now tying Athens in knots are completed. The Greeks are hoping that their special history and passion for the Games — the Olympics began here in the 8th century B.C. — will lead people to forgive traffic delays and other annoyances.

The modern sports fan may have some adjusting to do. Athens will not be Sydney. The Australians staged enormously successful Games in venues built in special sports parks located in open space. But the Games in Athens will be played mostly in older, smaller, refurbished venues scattered amid a dense, urban setting. Critics predict gridlock, but planners speak of a more intimate Games, much like Barcelona in 1992. “We will have Games on a human scale,” says Angelopoulos. That will suit Jacques Rogge, the I.O.C.’s new president, who is determined to reduce the scale and complexity of the Olympics. At Seoul in 1988, almost 8,500 athletes took part in 23 sports; in Sydney, it was 10,960 athletes in 28 sports. Rogge has capped Athens at 10,500 athletes in 28 sports — no smaller, but at least no bigger.

The spaces in Athens may be a bit tight, but there will be magic in the settings. Cyclists will race around the base of Acropolis hill. The archery competition will be held in the Panathenaic Stadium, originally built in the 4th century B.C. and used in the 1896 Games. The marathon race will retrace the route of the very first marathon man, who sped with news of victory from the battle at Marathon to Athens in 490 B.C. Toss in Greek charm and an eagerness to succeed, and the Greeks may have the formula for a happy and successful Games.

With a population of 10.9 million, Greece is the smallest country to stage the Summer Games since Finland in 1952, when the Olympics were a considerably more modest affair. “We are determined to prove that Greece, a small nation, can deliver a set of games as good as any big nation,” says Theodore A. Couloumbis, professor of international relations at the University of Athens.

Will it all work? It has to, says Couloumbis. It’s a matter of national pride and of philotimo, the Greek fear of shame. That explains why even those Greeks who initially opposed the Games are now getting enthusiastic about them — and co- operating to get the city ready. The numbers of volunteer applications continues to increase daily. Also, after initial reluctance, people are signing up to open their homes to fans coming to Athens who cannot find hotels. Polls now show that tens of thousands of Athenians who originally said they were planning to abandon the city in August have decided to stay in town to welcome the Games back home. Come August 2004, Athens will be a happier, more crowded place — ready or not.