Reelpol

TALES OF TURKEY AND GREECE PART I

Part I May 15-17, 2005

Istanbul, the only city in the world located on two continents.

Istanbul, home to the Grand Bazaar where sesame pretzels, roasted chestnuts, blue evil eyes, hand-woven carpets, aromatic spices and boxes of Turkish Delight crowd the stalls.

Istanbul, the last stop on the Orient Express.

Istanbul, where women so shrouded in black veils that only their dark brown eyes show.

Istanbul, the only place you can see venders with urns of cherry juice strapped to their backs as well as such man-made wonders as the vast Hagia Sophia or the six slender minarets (forcing Mecca to add an seventh) of the Blue Mosque.

The old city, surrounded by remnants of defensive walls (Justin’s in 600 BC, Constantine’s in 300 BC and Septimus Severus’ in 193 BC) is separated from the new city, with its modern skyscrapers and shopping malls, by the Golden Horn (an inlet of the Bosphorus).

According to our tour guide Gazi Seyit, Istanbul got its name from a corruption of a Turkish sign reading “to the city.” Twelve million people make their home there at night. A million more fill the city streets during the day.

Istanbul was first established by the Megaran leader Byzas (and named Byzantium) in 657 B.C. The oracle at Delphi told Byzas to settle across from the “land of the blind ones” but the area known as Anatolia (“land of sunrise”) could have been inhabited as early as 3000 B.C.

Byzas immediately realized the wisdom of the oracle when he saw the strategic potential (trade and defense) of the Bosphorus (“White Cow”). Empire builders from King Midas to Alexander the Great all appreciated the idea that Byzantium had “location, location, location” going for it but fortunately for the residents, nearly a millennium would pass before the city would fall under the control of the Holy Roman Empire via the conquest by Septimus Severus.

Like a phoenix rising out of the ashes of the original Istanbul, a new city, initially called New Rome, but later re-christened Constantinople, was founded in 330 by Constantine to house the countless cultural treasures he pilfered from the ancient world.

The next hundred years would be a time of tremendous upheaval for the Roman Empire with barbarian hordes (Their language sounded like “bar-bar-bar” to the Greeks) laying siege to the west. The Byzantine Empire in the east, however, flourished.

Constantinople, a truly international city, borrowed from every culture that invaded or traded with its residents. Waterways and walls came from Rome; carpets and coffee from Vienna; and the military cannon and goulash from Hungary.

Thanks to Constantine and Justinian, the streets of Constantinople were both paved and protected from the elements by coverings, decorated by beautiful fountains, and punctuated by magnificent buildings utilizing the graceful columns and intricate capitals of Rome.

But turnabout's fair play and courtesy of Italian crusaders, the four golden horses that once decorated the Hippodrome now top the portal of St. Mark’s in Venice. Constantine established the Hippodrome’s arena (crowd capacity 100,000) as the public center of the city. We were able to wonder at the Obelisk of Pharoah Thutmose (plundered from Karnak in Egypt), the Serpentine Column (stolen from the Temple of Apollo at Delphi) and the Column of Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus (with charmic justice, its bronze plates ended up in Venice). By the 9th Century, the population of Constantinople had reached one million. Although over the next few centuries, Constantinople, coveted for its incomparable location by Persians, Arabs, and nomads, managed to survive. It was the knights of the Fourth Crusade, diverted from Jerusalem, who finally sacked the city in 1204. All that remains from the Imperial Palace (Bukoleon Sarayi), a structure of 500 interconnected halls and 30 gold mosaic-decorated chapels is a single length of crumbling wall. Legend has it that the Byzantine emperors enjoyed a life so luxurious that even the birds sang at their command--a tree made from pure gold was said to be filled with mechanical singing birds.

Weakened by constant conflict during the next two hundred years, Constantinople was finished off by the Ottoman Turks in 1453. Under Sultan Mehmet II, the city was renamed Istanbul. The Ottoman Empire (Albania, Algeria, Armenia, Azebaijan,Bahrain, Bosnia, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cypress, Georgia, Greece, Hungary, Iraq, Israel, Joran, Kuwait, Lebanon, Libya, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Slovenia, Sudan, Syria, Tunisia, Turkey, Yemen, Yugoslavia, and the Ukraine ) too saw its collapse in 1918.

The Janissaries, basically slave soldiers kidnapped from farm families and indoctrinated into Islam as an elite praetorian force, became the terror of the Ottoman Empire. After a while, however, their power, as Lord Actin predicted, corrupted them. The Ottoman Empire lost its monopoly over trade routes once Christopher Columbus opened up the New World. Since Islam restricted scientific inquiry, the Ottomans lost the technological race to more developed nations. Their finances came under Western financial control as a result of an 1825 bankruptcy. They chose the losing side in WW I--Gallipoli was their only victory against Allies

The Republic of Turkey originated in 1923 after the War of Independence and Kemal Ataturk secularized the Moslem empire of the Ottomans. It wouldn’t be until the 80s and 90s, however, that tourism would prosper the Turkish economy. Germans seem to be in the majority these days and hotels especially cater to them with meat- heavy breakfasts and ugh, caffeine-challenged Sanka.

Islam remains the predominate religion--which has led to considerable resistance on the part of member nations of the E.U. (in addition to unfair labor practices) to Turkish membership.The two most famous buildings (Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque) in Istanbul are located right across Sulltanahmet Square from one another. Hagia Sophia (Church of Holy Wisdom), the greatest surviving example of Byzantine architecture, is enjoying its third reincarnation as a church. Nothing remains of the first, which was destroyed by protestors when Emperor Arcadius sent Archbishop John Chrysostom into exile in 404 AD. The second, rebuilt by Theodosium II, was torched during the Nika riots of 532. The third time proved the charm with Justinian, who chose professors of geometry (Isidore of Miletus and Anthemius of Thralles) as his architects. He rededicated the huge, 260’ by 270’ structure on December 26, 536.The interiors are so embellished with marble, mosaics, and frescoes that Justinian is said to have proclaimed “Solomon, I have surpassed thee!” In addition, the marble walls reflected candlelight so brilliantly that the church also served as a lighthouse. The entrance door was supposedly carved from a remnant of Noah’s Ark. The first thing you notice is the Pantheon-sized “vault of heaven” dome (diameter 102’) rising 210’ above the floor which is illuminated from underneath by light streaming through an unbroken arcade of arched windows.

We were told that 100,000 laborers spent six years on an edifice constructed in the days before steel reinforcement. The ancients placed glass panels in the walls to serve as “earthquake alarms” after the structure was seriously damaged in 558 AD, 563 AD, 989 AD, and 1346 AD (causing the walls to lean like Pisa and the dome to be replaced twice).

The “sweating column” on the main floor is said to have cured Justinian of a migraine--centuries of visitors touching the same spot have resulted in a worn, round indentation. When the church was converted into a mosque in 1453, Sultan Mehmet purportedly placed his hand in “the holy hole, ” tracing the interior all the way around, which supposedly caused the building to turn around and face Mecca.
Since conservative factions of Islam found human figures sacrilegious, all frescoes, with the exception of those featuring Jesus and Mary (venerated by Moslems) were plastered over or destroyed. Islamic decorations, added when the edifice became a mosque, consisted of huge banners on which phrases offering praise to Allah were rendered in calligraphy. Under Ataturk, the church-cum-mosque was secularized as the Aysofia Museum. The extensive scaffolding attests to the fact that entrance fees are being used to undertake the considerable repair wrought by centuries of neglect.

There is not much about the Blue Mosque that is really blue except for 17th Century Iznik tiles on the upper level. Built by Sultan Ahmet I to compete with Hagia Sophia in size, splendor, and solemnity, the structure (Sultan Ahmet I Camii) took seven years to complete. There are six minarets because the architect misunderstood “altin” (which means “gold”) as “alti” (which mean “six”).

Moslems, who pray five times a day, must prepare by washing face, mouth, nose, arms, neck, and feet. All visitors to the mosque must remove their shoes and women are required to cover their arms and legs (to the knees) or they will be forced to wear a rather malodorous piece of blue cloth.

The first thing you notice upon entering is the geometrically-patterned Seljuk (first Turkish Empire) wooden gate and the low-hanging, wrought iron chandeliers. The dome is 77’ in diameter and rises 140’ above a floor covered with layers of prayer rugs. Light filters in via 260 windows. Outbuildings include a religious school, hospital, caravansaray (protected rest stop for pilgrims) and soup kitchen.

Driving around Istanbul you notice that retail stores selling the same product tend to cluster together--it could be guitars, photo finishing, or plumbing supplies. In one neighborhood identified as ultra-traditional, 13 bridal shops featuring storybook white dresses in the window could be counted within three blocks. We also noted, in a more secularized neighborhood, a couple of shops simply sold store mannequins.

The boat trip down the Bosphorus proved a special Turkish delight. The highlight was seeing the hospital where Florence Nightingale turned around the British mortality rate by merely improving cleanliness and hygiene. She traveled there in 1834 during the Crimean War. Ironically, when the Moslems were attacked by Russia, it was Christian England, France, and Italy that saved them.

TALES OF TURKEY AND GREECE PART II

Part II May 18-22
I’d already seen Topkapi Palace in the 1964 “Topkapi” movie, starring Peter Ustinov (who won an Oscar) and Melina Mercouri, but there was so much more to learn. The palace was built by Mahmet the Conqueror’s grandson, Suleyman the Magnificent (1520-66), who codified law (both secular and Islamic), patronized the arts, extended the Ottoman Empire, and dominated the Mediterranean.

His architect Sinan (who also designed Soleymaiye Mosque) built the Topkapi Palace as both a political center and royal residence. We enjoyed the breathtaking view of the confluence of the Bosphorus, the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmara at lunch.

The courtyard where janissaries protested by upending caldrons of goulash, the kitchens where a priceless collection of glass, silver (doll house was incredible) and rare Chinese porcelains were on display, and a cool walk down a Cypress tree lined walkway were all noteworthy. We were told that at one time over 50,000 people lived and worked on the palace grounds. In fact, Suleyman (shades of W.R. Hearst and Michael Jackson) kept a zoo with peacocks, gazelles, lions, elephants, bears, and other animals gifted by foreign rulers.

Since everybody and his brother was enjoying a 4-day weekend celebrating Ataturk Day (May 19th), we didn’t get to spend much time eying the 87-carat diamond supposedly stolen in “Topkapi.” No cameras were allowed but the Turks all had their cell phones poised and their sharp elbows didn’t welcome foreigners.

The Treasury also housed bejeweled daggers, Mohammed’s vest, a box of emeralds, and the bones of John the Baptist. Guy’s mother was especially disappointed that we wouldn’t be seeing the rooms of Suleyman’s Harem—she had to content herself with the pictures in my guidebook.

The most outstanding fresco at the Chora Monastery of St. Savior was the wall-filling image of Adam and Eve being pulled from the grave by Christ. I realized that the scenes depicting key events in the life stories of Mary and Jesus operated like a graphic novel for the largely illiterate congregants. Priests could sermonize on New Testament lessons with the visual illustrations available right on the walls. Many of the images, however, were destroyed between 729 and 843 AD by Christian iconoclasts.

There were basically two schisms in the early church. The first centered around understanding Jesus as both God and man—in Monophysitism, Jesus was more God than man. In Ariansism, Jesus was a superman. In Nestorianism, Jesus evolved from man to God. The second schism pitted iconoclasts, who thought any representation of God in art would lead to idol worship against iconophiles, who held that images or icons helped focus prayer or meditation. Icons can still divide Lutherans and Catholics.

We flew from Istanbul to Kayseri (Caesar’s Town), one of the major stops on the Silk Road and the capital of Cappadocia. We learned about the Hittites 1800-1179 BC (Uriel the Hittite is mentioned in the Old Testament) who left cuneiform and hieroglyphic tablets (based on the Sumerian language) as well as pottery, laws, and banking.

The Hittite language, with its deep Indo-European roots, is quite close to modern English (“water”). Jon and I purchased a circular wine urn and plate at Avanos made from red riverbank clay, fired, and decorated with primitive images of domesticated animals and flowers. The Hittite civilization was destroyed around 1250 BC by various invaders and among the casualty cities was Troy (Homer’s “Iliad”).

The Phrygians came next to Anatolia (Turkey) and two of their kings live on in legend--Gordius (The Gordian knot solved by Alexander the Great) and Midas of The Golden Touch. From 650-546 BC, the Lydians dominated western Turkey. Their last king was Croesus whose wealth inspired the expression “rich as Croesus.” The Persians then took over and ruled for 200 years.

Between 700BC and 400 AD, classic Graeco-Roman civilization advanced in Anatolia because of Alexander the Great, the boy king of Macedonia. He ruled only 11 years but he managed to liberate the Anatolians from the Persians (their hatred was so strong that residents committed mass suicide rather than subject themselves to the Persian kings), brought Greek culture to Turkey, standardized the money, and established trade routes.

Turkey also has Alexander to thank for defensive walls and aqueducts, columns and capitals, as well as pagan gods and goddesses. Many Persian nobles escaped to Cappadocia, (our next stop) where they continued to live for centuries.

At Uchisar, we visited rock churches and chapels (Churches of the Apple, St. George, St. Barbara, and the bearded female celibate, St. Onophiceus) carved out of the volcanic tuff. When tuff is protected from the air, it can be scooped away with bare hands but when the tuff comes in contact with oxygen, it hardens into rock-like durability.

The Cappadocian hills are honeycombed with residential cave-like complexes. At Derinkuyu, we visited an underground city covering eight floors, with wells, stables, wine presses, and kitchens. Erosion and wind remove the crumbly volcanic material and leave tall, thin towers of rock called “fairy chimneys.”

People lived in tuff caves until earthquakes put their lives as risk. The Turkish government paid them to build houses but they refused to live in them. In 1978, they were forced to leave the caves but many built their homes into the sides of the hills to retain their traditional cave-dwelling lifestyle.

The Cappacodians practice dry farming. In the spring you see nothing but bright orange rooftops as farmers dry apricots. There’s even a grape that grows without rain but the vines are more like short scraggly bushes—the wine, however, wasn’t all that bad.

In Cappadocia, a single shepherd watches the flocks of an entire village. The sheep are painted different colors so that the shepherd can tell one family’s flock from another.

In the fields separating the villages, acres and acres of opium poppies, which are white, are grown and harvested for "purely medicinal purposes."

In Urgup, we learned that every woman has a loom. We wondered why we would often see prayer rugs hanging in the windows. Our guide told us that it indicated that a girl of marriageable age, who had probably woven the rug herself, lived there. The rug signaled, “how cold my bedroom is!” Since the girl is veiled at menstruation, the mother of the groom takes an intended fiancée to a Turkish bath to “check her out, “ face and figure-wise, for her son. The betrothed is usually gifted with jewelry commensurate to her worth to the groom. If Americans think weddings are bankruptsy-inducing, the wedding feasts in Turkey last at least three days.

Jonathan has desired a real Turkish carpet ever since his mother sold the family heirloom out from under him. He got his wish when we dropped in on a weaver’s co-op (30 families subsidized by the government) where he fell in love with a 4’ x 6’ wool-on-wool, hand-woven, double-knotted Cappadocian carpet in blues, gold, and reds. I was not nearly as smitten so I held out for what I thought was a ridiculously low offer. The carpet, which was woven in Yahyali, now resides under our oak coffee table.

On my list of “things to do before I die” was riding a camel. I crossed this item off on May 19, 2005 at a rest stop outside Kayseri. I think everyone in our group documented that Kodak moment. It was not as uncomfortable as horseback riding, but, in fact, it reminded me more of the roll of a shipboard deck. Perhaps that’s why camels are known as “the ships of the desert.”

Another Turkish delight was smoking a hookah with a whirling dervish. The priests, a Sufic sect of Sunni Muslims, lived at a convent called Mevlana Tekkesi. Our dervish permitted us to ask him about his religious beliefs as we drank apple tea and smoked Turkish tobacco. The sema (Whirling Dervish) ceremony was quite moving-- hypnotic music (drum, stringed instruments, and flute) is played and the priests slowly spin as they seek a mystical union with Allah. You could sense total peace.

Their costumes, basically a white jacket over a long, full white skirt and a high red head wrap, added to the spirituality. During the strictly religious ceremony, the dervishes, who practice for years, turn in unison despite having their eyes tightly closed. There is no a planned choreography but the movement seems to be guided by a non-whirling priest who simply walks through the others.

In Konya (capital of the Seljuk Empire between 1071 and 1308 AD) a museum is dedicated to the teachings (tolerance, forgiveness and enlightenment) of poet Mevlana Master Celaddan Rumi and also serves as his final resting place. We learned that Rumi’s father was buried standing up--"to be closer to Allah." Many residents work at the Konya brewery but, as religious piets, they passed a law banning the sale of alcoholic beverages in the city. Konya was visited by St. Paul around 50 AD.

You can see why Pammulke is called the “Cotton Castle.” Shimmering white calcium carbonate cascades from limestone-laden hot springs cover the hills for miles. We walked from one terraced pool to another—our feet and legs enjoying bathtub temperature water while our faces were whipped by cold, grimy winds.

We also visited the Hierapolis ruins—the city founded by Eumenes II of Pergamon and bequeathed by Attalus II to Rome. Although leveled by an earthquake in 17AD, it was rapidly rebuilt as a Las Vegas style resort for Roman nobility. We enjoyed the thermal springs experience for ourselves at the Lycus River Hotel where the hottest pool was wrapped around a fiberglass volcano.

The guide introduced us to the pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses who figured in Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey—Ares, Hera, Athena, Appolo, Aretemis, Hermes, Aphrodite, and Zeus as well as the human heroes of the Trojan War such as Ajax, Paris, Priam, and Achilles. We found a great book of Greek mythology that proved most helpful as we visited pagan shrines to the various Greek deities.
As to the “Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts” Trojan horse story, it seems there are three theories being debated these days. The first contends that there really was a wooden structure filled with especially well disciplined soldiers (they remained immobile and silent for 48 hours) who opened the gates from inside during the dead of night. The second argues that a catapult resembling a horse was used to batter down the gates. The third claims the Trojan horse was a metaphor for an earthquake that knocked down the walls at a propitious moment.

We visited a modest stone house, high on a hill overlooking Ephesus, where John allegedly brought the mother of Jesus to live after the ascension. There is no evidence that Mary actually lived there but the faithful pop in, nuns continually pray for the defeat of evil in the world, and the springs originating on the property supposedly hold healing powers.

Jon doesn’t believe much in miracles but he did take handfuls of water and bathed my tortured knees. For defensive reasons, the ancients insisted on building their cities on mountaintops and all the climbing up and down took quite a toll on my ancient joints. Immediately I felt warmth and relief. Within 30 minutes, all the pain was gone. The cure didn’t last beyond that day but for me, the real miracle was the power of Jon’s love.

The ruins at Aphrodisias included an immense, 30,000-spectator stadium and tiled baths (Hadrian) as well as a Roman make-over of a Greek theatre (orchestra and stage converted into an arena for gladiator fights during the 2nd Century). The city of Aphrodisias was buried by earthquakes during late antiquity, abandoned by the survivors after Arab attacks, and excavated in the 60s by Kenan Erim and National Geographic. What made this site stand out was the exquisite white marble sculptures that celebrated sensual love and femininity. The monumental ruins of the Temple of Aphrodite were also quite impressive.

TALES OF TURKEY AND GREECE: PART III

Part III May 23-30
The most beautiful view out of a hotel window goes to the Pine Marina Hotel. We could have remained on that balcony (pausing occasionally to sip a libation) as we gazed upon the Kusadasi harbor and the Aegean Sea for the rest of the trip. The side trip to Sardis (one of seven cities mention in Book of Revelation) however, was really worth the trouble. The reconstructed (Sir Howard Butler) Ionic temple of Artemis (which cost King Gyges 10 tons of gold) was awe-inspiring and the gold, brown, blue and black mosaic tiles in the First Century synagogue as well as the gymnasium/bath were staggering. Sardis dates back 3,000 years when it developed from a prehistoric lakeside community into a major Roman (and Byzantine) city. When it served as the capital of the Lydian empire, young girls were encouraged to become prostitutes in order to earn their dowries. The Lydians invented dice and knucklebones as well as lion-headed coins made of a gold and silver alloy. The Pactolus stream, which flows next to the road, is supposed to give bathers “the Midas touch.”
The ancient city of Ephesus (also mentioned in Revelation) is a truly unmatched archeological site--accommodating all sorts of wonders from the Temple of the many-breasted Artemis (only foundation and a single Ionian column is still visible) to the grave of St. John, the author of Revelation who returned to Ephesus after Patmos and the only apostle to escape martyrdom. We had too little time to examine the Roman imperial period ruins of the Gymnasium of Vedius, the horseshoe-shaped Stadium, Church of the Virgin Mary, the Harbour Baths, the 30,000-seat Theatre, the Library of Celsus, the Agora, the Temple of Serapis, the Baths of Scolastica, the Temples of Hadrian, and, of course, the titillating Brothel—directions on Curetes Street consist of a footprint, an arrow-pierced heart and a woman’s face.

We learned that Ephesus was supposedly founded by Amazons, ferocious female warriors, who allowed no men in their communities. Legend has it that these women amputated the right breast so as not to interfere with the accuracy of their bows.

Another Ephesian myth is that the original settlement (Efes) came about after the Delphi oracle advised the founders to establish a city where a fish and a boar could be found. It seems that the Athenian prince Androklos was frying a fish at the northern foot of Mount Pion. The fish jumped out of the pan, scattered live coals, set a bush (where a boar was hiding) on fire and the prophesy was fulfilled. When King Croesus of Lydia, who coveted Ephesus and its prosperous harbor in 560 BC, the Ephesians thought they could protect their city by stretching a rope from the Temple of Artemis to the heart of Efes. They were dead wrong.

The Temple of Artemis was set on fire in 356 BC (the night of Alexander the Great’s birth) by a fame-crazy Herostatus who did realize his dream of becoming a footnote to history. The replacement structure became one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World along with the Pyramid of Khufu, Mausoleum, Colossus of Rhodes, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Lighthouse at Alexandria, and Temple of Zeus. As part of the Roman Empire, Ephesus was named by Caesar Augustus as the capital (population 250,000) of Asia Minor (instead of Pergamon). Despites efforts to deepen the harbor or divert the Cayster River, the harbor silted up—Ephesus now lies three miles from the sea. St. Paul arrived in 53 AD and established his first church in Ephesus. He took a powder to Macedonia however, when a backlash against Christianity occurred when jewelrysales of silver Artemis statues declined in direct proportion to the number of converts Paul won.

The cruise portion of our adventure began by boarding Perla, a very fast (beat the other cruise ships into port) Greek ship carring 900 passengers. Jon found it disconcerting that so many of them were from Texas. The food was delicious, the swimming pool inviting, and the hammocks were just perfect for an afternoon nap.

There were five ports of call:
Skala (Patmos), where we viewed the cave in which John received the Revelation (Noteworthy: a huge three-way rift in the rock that occurred when the voice of God blasted through solid stone and the parchment deed signed in 1088 by Emperor Alexis I Comnenus—it seems Abbot Christodoulous won Patmos on a bet);
Rhodes, where the 102 ‘Colossus no longer guards the harbor but an internet café provided the opportunity to file my column, three museums of Byzantine art-viewing filled our afternoon, and a chat with the artist provided insights into a painting purchased for Brendan;
Heraklion (Crete), where we explored the 1,300-room Palace of Knossos (3000 BC Minoan culture boasting the world’s oldest road, flush toilets, light wells, drains with bends, and colorful frescoes) reconstructed by the controversial Sir Arthur Evens. We especially enjoyed tales of the Labyrinth and Minotaur;
Santorini, where whitewashed buildings teeter on cliffs--the remnants of a volcanic caldera (1500 BC) that supposedly swept Atlantis to the bottom of the Aegean. Piraeus, a fortified port founded in 5th Century BC (where “Zorba the Greek” and “Never on Sunday” were filmed) from which we made out way to Athens. If we were ever tour the Greek Isles again, I think I would much prefer to join a sailing flotilla (Jon is a competent sailor) so that we could arrive at a time when each port of call (Greece consists of 2000 islands, only 197 of which are inhabited) isn’t glutted with the passengers aboard four or five cruise ships. It was the Greek equivalent of Attaturk Day crowds, EVERY day. The Byzantine And Christian Museum, housed in a Florentine mansion constructed by an eccentric 19th centry duchess, was chock full of the sorts of icons and church relics (13th-18th Century) we were here to see. The collection simply reinforced two ideas: 1) that Christians often simply “converted” pagan temples for worship, and the blending of the old and new religious symbols together helped “convert” the natives, and 2) Byzantine religious art was more often desecrated or destroyed by iconoclastic Christians (as opposed to non-Christians).
It wouldn’t be Athens without a climb up to the Acropolis, visible from our Hotel Stanley window, and especially remarkable, misted in the rain. I could visualize the stirring orations delivered by Pericles or the sermons of Paul being preached in front of the Parthenon. Much restoration work has been accomplished since the Ottomans used the building as a munitions depot—1600 chunks of white marble released in a 1687 explosion have been identified and catalogued. Debris still covers the grounds and I later found a marble chip in my sandal. It’s a shame that Lord Elgin persuaded the Sultan to allow the removal of merely “some blocks of stone with inscriptions and figures.” Greek history is now being housed in the British museum. A 39 ‘ statue of Athena was taken to Constantinople in late antiquity and has subsequently disappeared. The Greek Dining Experience in downtown Athens provided by our guides (moussaka, lamb kabobs, baklava) was not so very different from a restaurant in Ventura Harbor but proved to be a definite crowd pleaser for the students who, assisted by a little ouzo, grape-vined along with the folk-costumed entertainers in long serpentine lines on a cramped stage. Yours truly must have enjoyed the Greek wine—she agreed to take a turn at the mike in the singing department.

Delphi was one of the most spiritual places we visited. I don't know if it was the dizzying heights of Mount Parnassus or the mysterious fog that constantly obstructed the sun or the lighting flashes and claps of Zeus-like thunder, but it was easy to believe that Apollo could have delivered up another memorable prophesy--just so it wasn't the same as the one he delivered to Oedipus. In ancient times, the oracle ceremony included a cold-water cleansing in the Castalian Spring, the babbling of an entranced Pythia (priestess), and then paying a pelanos to a priest to “translate,” often ambiguously, the message . The museum’s most impressive inhabitants were a bronze statue of a 470 BC charioteer and a life-size silver bull dating from the 6th Century BC.On our return to Athens we stopped at Distomo to visit the monastery of St. Luke—not the gospel writer but a 10th century holy man with the same name.

Unfortunately most of the monastery’s icons had been stolen in 1980, but we refreshed ourselves in the serenity of the surroundings. As we drank wine under a gnarled, centuries-old tree, we contemplated all that we had seen during the past two weeks

It was time to return to Los Angeles. Yasas Athina--efharisto.