Our travel day began with incredible wind on Santorini and ended with a misty arrival in Delphi. The wind on Santorini was very dramatic. Our rooms were inside caves carved into the side of the hill, so they were very dark and very sound proof. The wind prevailed however, waking everyone up, rattling patio furniture and umbrellas. It howled all night.
I dragged my suitcase up the flights and flights and flights of stairs, until a nice Greek man came by and scooped it up as if it were nothing and ran up the stairs with it. He got two euro for his trouble. Thank god for sturdy Greek men. These are the same guys who brought my breakfast tray up and a down the stairs each day.
Another up and down flight from Santorinin to Athens, then we hopped in cabs to the bus terminal. The whole time our driver was fiddled with his beads. No, not those beads. These are called komboloia. They are de-stressing worry beads that all the men here flip and fondle and play with. One book I read gave a couple of theories about the origins of these beads. One theory is that they are a version of the Orthodox monks' rosaries, another is that the Greeks may have been mocking their Ottoman enemy's Islamic beads. I'm more partial to the Orthodox monk theory myself. But wherever I go, I hear the click, click of the beads being swung around the men's hands.
The bus terminal is just like all bus terminals everywhere. The very last infrastructure to get developed or improved, it is sticky and chaotic. However, we did have assigned seating, and it was a nice coach style bus for a three hour ride, so that was good. We all went to get settled and I realized that my seat mate was a large, fragrant Greek man. He didn't decide to start chatting until after our mid way point rest stop. This was good, as it gave me a chance to get used to the overwhelming odor of him. It was a combination of sweat, some sort of food and spices and smoke. He was also quite large. When he accidentally grabbed my water bottle, I said, "No yours is the bigger one," and he replied, "Ah, like me! I'm also bigger!" After that we were off and running. He said that he and his neighbor would be slaughtering the lambs for Sunday - Easter was coming. He made a cutting their throat motion just to make sure I understood what he meant. When the ticket collector came around, he said not to worry, that he knew the guy - if I couldn't find my ticket, he could clear it up for me. Then he winked. All of my traveling friends thought this encounter was very humorous. I did, too, actually. It is fun to have these chats with people. I left my new friend on the bus when we got off in Delphi.
Delphi met us with a cold misty rain. Most of the promised views were obscured by the fog, but it create an mysterious atmosphere appropriate to the place. Delphi sits high on Mt. Parnassos - crating not just a marvelous ancient site, but one with magnificent views. Well worth more than a day trip.
And it is pronounced "Dell-Fee." Just for the record. I was unclear on the proper pronunciation, but the matter was quickly put to rest by every Greek who uttered the town's name.
The seven of us had our last dinner together. Lamb with pasta, wild boar with onions, stuffed tomatoes, goat-in-the-oven, olives, fresh bread, wine, lush salds. The food here has been outstanding. There is so much variety that we never get tired of the cuisine.
In the morning, I woke up to this. I took this picture in the morning when I stepped out onto my balcony.
We are staying at a hotel that P stays at each time he comes here. The Hotel Acropole sits on a side on the mountain, overlooking the valley. We were sitting in the comfy lobby when suddenly there was a earthquake. It was strong, but short. We all glanced at each other nervously. I had to walk outside afterwards to shake out the adrenaline. I hadn't been in an earthquake since the large one hit us in the Northwest many years ago. It was another of those reminders about place. Beauty often comes from destruction (earthquakes, volcanoes) and that is why we come. It was also a reminder about why the ancients believed Delphi to be the center of the world, it's special placing determined by Zeus himself. Maybe he decided to give us a good shake.
We mere mortals have to walk along the road from town to the site. Along the way, we saw this memorial.
Delphi is where the worship of Apollo grew. Priestesses would speak in riddles, messages that were from Apollo himself. The Sanctuary of Apollo is where all the action took place. When we went, we could not have asked for better weather. Brilliant blue skies, but a little bit cool. Perfect for the hike up the archaeological site.
This polygonal wall is from the sixth century BC and is about 250 feet long and 12 feet high. I could not get over how old this was, and how long it has supported the terrace of the Temple of Apollo. Maybe the earthquake was still fresh in my mind, but the fact that it has survived because of how well it was fitted together in the first place amazed (and reassured) me.
The view from just above the Temple of Apollo was beautiful.
''At Delphi I prayedDenise Levertov, "The Prayer."
to Apollo
that he maintain in me
the flame of the poem
and I drank of the brackish
spring there....''
The fourth century BC theater sits on the side of the mountain. It could seat 5,000 - but imagine a poor actor competing with the view behind him.
The last level of the site contains the stadium.
We returned to town briefly for lunch, but the walk back brought more spectacular view of the Gulf of Corinth.
Some of our party left us after lunch. The remaining four of us trekked down to the Sanctuary of Athena. The tholos (the round structure amidst the ruins) is interesting because it's purpose is still unknown. I could just imagine it with all twenty columns intact around it.
The Archaeological Museum in Delphi contains some of the sculptures that have been found here. This dashing young lad was the lover of Hadrian (remember him from the Arch, the Library, and the Temple of Zeus in Athens?). Antinous was from Turkey, but drowned in the Nile in 130 BC. Hadrian was so despondent that he declared Antinous a god and put up many statues of him - making him a recognizable celebrity from the ancient world. This statue is so revered because the preserved detail on it is fantastic and he was (minus his arms, of course) found intact.
The museum's real showcase piece is the famous Bronze Charioteer. He is life-sized and just a part of the oriniganl sculpture containing a chariot, horses and a stable boy. His eyes are inset stones and enamel, giving him a more thoughtful and intriguing look. His robe and toes and hair are given such detail that they seem to almost move. It is a stunning piece of work.
We reaming travelers spent our last dinner together at a wonderful spot, overlooking the valley, watching the mountains change with the clouds. It was an excellent end to a wonderful day.
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