The whole time I’ve been around Athens, restaurants have come and gone. Some have managed to have long tenures. Since its doors opened in 1975, the Bluebird survived at least two locations and probably more major reorganizations than that—last time I ate there, the menu was about half Indian food, a migration from its long-time Southern hippy style.
Now, the café seems defunct forever. Somehow its space is emptied, but not completely, so that a signature painting is still hanging on the wall opposite the door.
* My ignorance: our North American bluebirds are true thrushes.