One year and two months ago to this day, I walked into a bar in Athens where, in a haze of smoke and much to my surprise, I was allowed to break the law. A ban on smoking in public places, imposed by the then conservative government, had just come into force.

Bars and restaurants across Greece that had not elected to cater exclusively to patrons who puffed (a special opt-out clause of the then law) faced stiff fines. My little drinking spot was one of them.

But it mattered not. A gravelly voiced woman seated on an adjacent stool – several cigarette packs stacked before her – was quick to allay any fear that either I or my friend, an Australian only too aware of the stringency of anti-smoking laws in her native Melbourne, had as we pondered the possibility of lighting up. "Hey guys, in this country whatever is illegal is legal," she smiled. "Rules are made to be broken."

For the remainder of the night, a little nervous perhaps but equally buoyed by the naughtiness of it all, we sneakily puffed away. We weren't alone. In a nation where over 40% light up daily, millions of others were merrily flouting the law, in what would soon became a collective snub to the measure.

Last night, barely 12 hours after the socialist government attempted, again, to turn enclosed places throughout Greece into a no-smoke area – with a blanket ban unprecedented in scope and severity – I tested the law once more. This time, in the presence of a government minister at a reception held in another downtown drinking hole, several of us lit up. We sat in open window seats that abutted the street as we knowingly broke the law. Sanction came from neither staff nor any of the municipal police tasked with enforcing the ban (even if it has been announced that September will be a "flexible" month).

"It seems old habits die hard," said a colleague who has resided in Athens for close to 40 years. "The only way this is going to work is if Greeks feel it in their pockets, if the law is actually implemented and people are fined." In the new Greece, lead by the avidly health-conscious, non-smoking George Papandreou, that is exactly what authorities say they intend to do.

In south-east Europe, Greece stands alone as the only country where anti-smoking laws have repeatedly met with lack of success. This year, even Cyprus (home to the heaviest smokers in Europe after Greece) managed to pass legislation that has successfully prohibited smoking in nightclubs, cafes, pool halls, restaurants and betting shops.

With Athens in the midst of economic crisis, the US-born Papandreou took the unusual step on Wednesday of appealing to the patriotism of his compatriots in asking them to kick the habit. Quitting, he said, would not only revolutionise attitudes with the improvement of lifestyles and health but help the country's debt-stricken finances by curbing the effect of smoke-related diseases on its overstretched public health system. Conservative estimates suggest that the nation's addiction to nicotine costs the state over €2bn a year.

But in these difficult times, when Greeks are being asked to stomach a draconian austerity programme of tax hikes, salary and pension cuts, the anti-smoking drive is also seen as a demand too far. With bar owners and restaurateurs leading the backlash – in the midst of recession the ban will, they say, have an devastating effect on business – many Greeks have publicly complained that the campaign is tountamount to an infringement of civil liberties.

"I've been smoking for 12 years and I don't intend to change my habits," said Sia Apostopoulou, a private sector employee, summing up the mood. "In Greece, these kind of measures don't last for long."

Will this latest attempt work? I won't be testing the new law again, but it's my bet that many Greeks will fume for some time yet before they agree to stub out smoking under dictate.