As Greece prepares to host next year's Games, the organisers and its government are racing to build the stadiums. Gretchen Friemann reports

With less than 11 months until the opening ceremony of the 2004 Olympic Games, Athens remains choked under a haze of dust, its roads chewed up by an army of pneumatic drills and its magnificent Parthenon shrouded in a trellis of scaffolding.

Punctuality has never been a strong Greek characteristic, but with much structural and cosmetic work still to be done on many of the capital's sporting venues and facilities, there is a rising sense of panic among Athenians that the Games will be a fiasco. And while the International Olympic Committee (IOC) publicly issues assurances that the Games will begin on August 13th, as scheduled, the dangerously plentiful opportunities for error are embarrassingly evident.

Greece has suffered a barrage of criticism in recent week for shoddy organisation, delayed construction work and poor security arrangements, forcing the IOC and the Greek government into robust denials that some venues may only be partially finished. Last month Denis Oswald, the IOC's chief inspector, claimed he was "impressed" by progress in a series of delayed construction projects, but he warned the organising committee that it could not afford to waste time. "If the pace Greece had in the last six months goes on until the end, there is no reason why the timetables which have been made will not be fulfilled. But the schedule is tight; we cannot lose any day."

Many observers felt that, having passed over Greece in favour of Atlanta for the millennial Games, the IOC had an obligation to award the next Olympics to the country whose ancient notions of democracy and sportsmanship inspired the modern Games. And when Athens's bid to host the Games beat Rome, the front runner, in September 1997, an IOC official agreed. "We owed it to Athens morally. This is the right decision for the Olympic movement."

But the run-up to the Games has been one of the sourest on record. Not only has Greece, a famously proud country, suffered the ignominy of two warnings from the IOC for its tardy preparations, but also there was even talk a few years ago of stripping the country of its right to stage the world's largest sporting event, in favour of its previous host, Sydney.

In April 2000 Juan Antonio Samaranch, then the IOC's president, criticised the Athens committee for reneging on promises in its bid and said the Games faced the worst organisational crisis in 20 years because of chronic construction delays.

At the time the Olympic village was a year overdue and still open to grazing for goats and rabbits, four major sporting sites had yet to be constructed and only a third of the 65 kilometre highway linking the main stadium with the city's northern suburbs was completed.

Since then the organisers have turned the city into a vast construction site. Cranes crowd the skyline, construction teams dot the main roads, slowing the usual traffic jams into gridlock, and the beautiful tourist heart of Plaka, whose cobbled streets and vine-clad tavernas nestle under the Parthenon, is smeared in dust and grime.

But while many Athenians fear the Games are in danger of descending into farce from poor planning and slipshod construction, few believe the venues will not be completed on time. As with other Mediterranean countries, last-minute panics are part of Greek culture.

Even as late as last February the new IOC president, Jacques Rogge, again warned the Greek government and the Games' organisers that continued delays and bureaucratic wrangling had created an "urgent" and "serious" situation.

After the first test events last month, however - which were marred by gales and capsizing boats at the rowing course and an outbreak of salmonella at the German team's hotel - Oswald admitted the Greeks are now sprinting to the finishing line.

"When it really comes to . . . the important things, [the Greeks\] are able to make . . . miracles and work very efficiently," he said.

But Athenians are increasingly anxious. Many grumble about the mess and say the venues are likely to be unusable after the Games because of the frenzied building pace. They worry, too, about the economic burden of hosting the mammoth spectacle in a country that is one of the poorest in the eurozone and whose main industry is tourism.

Greece has a population of less than 11 million yet yet is borrowing billions to fund the colossal cost of the Games in the hope that the tourist and business spin-offs will make the country a better place to live, as the prime minister, Costas Simitis, has promised. His gilded assurances are likely to be repeated with even greater force in coming months, as the country heads to the polls next spring to test the near 30-year dominance of his ruling Panhellenic Socialist Movement.

But as Greeks debate the impact a new government will have on the stretched Olympics preparations, the rest of the world is wondering where to stay during the 13-day event. Despite an annual influx of 12 million tourists to the country's islands and coastal holiday resorts, the chaos and smog mean Athens often features as little more than a transit stop for most visitors.

Simitis claims the Olympics will banish the capital's Cinderella status, but with most accommodation already booked by the IOC, sponsors and the media, any remaining hotel rooms are either exorbitantly expensive or outside Athens. Cruise liners, including the vast Queen Mary 2, will berth in Piraeus, the city's main port, to accommodate some 13,000 people during the Games, but for most visitors the only option will be private accommodation at top rates.

Problems like these have worried many Greeks that the Games will not live up to their country's rich Olympic heritage. And with a fragile pride at stake, the Kathimerini newspaper is exhorting the government and organisers to "tackle the organisational issues that threaten to torpedo next year's Games, resulting in the humiliation of this country".