Epidaurus

 Oct 6

We went out to Epidaurus today, an easy half-hour drive. We learned that signage is more reliable than Google maps in these parts; while Google isn't exactly inaccurate, it doesn’t tend to be clear at intersections which way to go until it’s too late and we’re headed into a warren of side roads. If intersections were simple crossroads, it might work, but here there tends to be a bunch of spokes, and instructions about which one to take is not Google’s strong point. Signage in these parts is good, however. That’s a good thing, because in a couple of days we’ll be racing off to the Athens airport for our flight to Corfu, and we don't need to get tangled in knots along the way.

We began our exploration of the site with a stop into the tiny on-site museum containing statuary and pottery and the like from the archeological site.

Why always headless?

Epidaurus is an archeological site much like others we’ve visited, but the famous structure here is the theatre. I knew it would be huge, but whew, it’s really huge. It was built in the 4th Century BCE and was not later adulterated by the Romans, as happened to many other such theatres. It had and would still have a capacity of up to 14,000 spectators. Performances are held here in the summer months.

Theatre from the bottom

  

And from the top

There didn’t seem to be busloads of tourists there, but rather there were busloads of high school students, probably on day trips from Athens, which is only a couple of hours away. They were doing clapping games in circles on the stage, listening, I suppose, to the changes in the acoustics as they moved into and out of the centre. You can stand on the marker at the centre, and from that spot, you can hear your voice bounce back to you. There were, at different times, would-be thespians reciting from that spot. No idea what they were saying, but that didn’t matter — it was lovely.

A thespian reciting ... Homer?

Carol and I climbed on up to the top, naturally. It was pretty easy, as long as we kept our eyes on our feet, because looking around would produce instant vertigo. We’re both terrified of heights. We forgot that we would have to get down again. Kind of like a cat in a tree: we’re up here, fine — now what do we do??

This was before we realized we'd have to get down from there

We're up in the nosebleed section

We sat for a long time, contemplating. And then we made it down, obviously, very very slowly. For anyone wondering, no, there aren’t any railings. 

Relieved

There was a stadium just like the ones in Delphi and Olympia. 

Stadium, with benches!

 

The site at Epidaurus was once a place of healing. Patients would lie in the long portico of a building (called the Avaton) and wait for Asclepios, a son of Apollo with special healing powers, to appear to them in dreams to cure them or prescribe treatments. One stone frieze showed a man with an injured toe being healed by a snake biting his shoulder. I would not have guessed this would be effective.

Some young guys re-enacted the scene for their friend’s camera. I love seeing young people enjoying ancient stuff.

Snake healing sore toe

 

A reconstruction of part of the Avaton, the portico of healing dreams

  

The site, like other ancient sites, was mostly what the untrained eye sees as a bunch of big rocks lying around. There’s a lot to be said for reconstruction, and there is some going on here that will mean a more interesting visit in the future. Still, it is amazing to walk where a civilization thrived more than 2000 years ago.

This will be a beautiful tholos when it's finished. A tholos is a round, domed tomb, and every ancient site seems to have one with three pillars standing.

 

Once “home” in Nafplio, we fell into what has become our normal rhythm: lunch, hang for a while, maybe walk about, dinner. Tonight we chose Italian, a nice change.

 

 

 

Kardamyli, Nafplio, and the Road in Between

 Oct 5

Late afternoon yesterday I walked up to the “old town” Kardamyli, while Carol rested after swimming three times when I was slacking off. 

The old town isn’t a town, though maybe it once was. Rather, it’s a small complex of buildings that includes a 3-storey tower, an iron workshop, olive press, and storerooms. These now function as a small museum consisting mostly of information panels and old photographs. There is also a functioning church there, and a wedding party was just wrapping up as I arrived.

The gate and church, with wedding party

View from the tower

Likely the toilet, since there's a chute below that hole which would direct waste away from the walls

Extremely steep staircases for three storeys, making me one courageous person

The Mani Peninsula, where Kardamyli is located, was the only region in Greece to not be conquered by the Ottoman Empire in the 15th Century. The Maniot clans were militaristic and independent, and at constant dispute with each other. They built their fortifications on hilltops throughout the peninsula — you can see them everywhere. The one at Kardamyli is one tower among the many in the Mani.

Dinner spot, Dioskouri Taverna

Not sure why we're leaving this place

I was speculating about this couple, who looked Keith-Richards weathered, all evening. Wonder who's the boss?

And then breakfast, at Aquarella Café

We felt so welcome at Anniska Apartments

This morning, we set off on a drive down the peninsula, taking the long way around to our destination, Nafplio. We had planned to visit a couple of hilltop towns, which would have been much like old town Kardamyli, but we both felt we had seen plenty of hilltop settlements, and were content simply to drive the curvy road and enjoy the scenery. This is dry, scrubby country, reminiscent, a bit, of the terrain around the Okanagan, except with sea views. Many little villages clung to the hillsides, and we had to wonder why they were there and what would be their livelihood. Maybe I’ll look that up. There were a few olive groves, but other than that, nothing but steep slopes.

We stopped in the tiny town of Mystras for a break. The small town square was like small-town squares everywhere in Europe. There were a couple of eateries, a bakery, and a shop that sold a few fridge magnets for the few tourists who pass by there. It was about lunch time, and though our big breakfast was only a couple of hours behind us, I ordered a lunch that turned out to be a big heap of tomatoes (and no, the tomatoes here have not been great; granted, I’m spoiled by my own home-grown ones), while Carol took the wiser choice of having an iced tea. Which came in a can. 

Just us in Mystras

We rarely enter a town without driving around in a circle or two, part of the experience, so we did that. Then headed down a nice wide highway, which turned into a nicer, wider toll road, until our exit to Nafplio. Passing through a town then, we detoured again, just because we could. Once in Nafplio, we found our place straight away, met with our host, Sophie, who showed us to our apartment. We then had to move our car to a public parking lot, which, you guessed it, took a bit of maneuvering, especially since I refused to drive down a pedestrian street (which would have been legal, but nope I’m not going to do that). Oh, driving in strange places is so much fun! 

So here we are in Nafplio, or Nafplion, our home base for three nights. The point of being here is that it’s easy access from the ancient sites of Mycenae and Epidaurus, which we’ll drive to tomorrow and the next day, in turn. The town is lively-crazy with tourists of all nationalities, the entire old town taken up with pedestrian streets lined with restaurant tables. The tourist shops have slightly different wares than other places we’ve been, with emphasis on cheap jewelry and not-so-cheap jewelry, and some nice and some not-so-nice crafts. Mostly, I wonder why people come here, but then I remember I’m here, too, and it’s to have a base to explore the more interesting sites nearby.

View from old town Nafplio

Note champagne in the lifebuoy

The weather has turned tropical, which I love. There are big yachts and bigger yachts in the harbour. One is the biggest I’ve ever seen, the Topaz. I looked it up; it’s 147m in length. For comparison, the biggest of the BC ferries are 160m long. And I found this:

TOPAZ is among the largest private luxury yachts in the world and is owned by billionaire Mansour bin Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, Deputy Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirates and member of the Abu Dhabi Royal Family. He is also owner of the Manchester City football club.

 

Topaz, apparently also known as A+

Something tells me I’m not going to be invited aboard.

 

 

To Kardamyli

 Oct 3

Olympia town seemed deserted when we stepped out for breakfast, the cafés empty, shops shuttered. We had omelets in one of them, asking first if they were really open.

From Olympia, we drove south to a little coastal town called Kardamyli. The roads were refreshingly wide, with actual lines down the middle, and, until the end, the curves were gentle. Part of the way was on a toll road. Tolls are low here, less than €3, and considering the alternative, well worth it. We were a bit trepidatious about going through our first one, just outside Athens, but the approach to them is perfectly clear: there are many booths with large, different-coloured signs above them, and you go to one of the ones that shows an image of a person. Pay the person with card or cash. A breeze!

We passed through the town of Kalamata, and thought we’d stop in because, you know, olives. The Saturday market was just off the highway, and it was bustling. Would have stopped had there been parking, but no. We squeezed ourselves back to the highway and carried on.

From the hills, we made our way down into lovely, lively Kardamyli. There is a Literary Festival happening here now, and the town is swarming with literary Brits. Apparently the topics of today were geo-political in nature, and our Prime Minister “showed” well — the leader of the Western World, someone told us. We try not to gloat.

There are a number of beautiful patios for eating, and we chose one for lunch and another for dinner, lingering with a view to the west over the Ionian Sea. This is the life!

A few Kardamyli sights:  

View from lunch patio

What better lunch -- salad and a 0% fix, er, beer?!

Sundress weather

I want one of these! Not sure Carol would fit, though.

No bike rack needed -- these loops are bolted into the curb

Dinner spot

Oct 4

With two nights in Kardamyli, our plan had been to use today to loop south in the Mani Penninsula, exploring small hilltop towns along the way, à la Rick Steves’ tours. But knowing what we now know about tiny roads and tiny villages, the idea of driving and returning has lost its appeal, and we decided to stay here and just hang out. We can go south tomorrow, adding an hour on to our planned drive to Nafplion, over on the next peninsula to the east.

Carol is back on a beach lounge chair in the sun, and I’m enjoying one of two decks in our huge apartment. In the original planning, I’d neglected to remind myself to build in a down day or two. This is it! 

My view as I write

 

We had a late breakfast on the same patio where we had our dinner last night. We looked for a likely place for Carol to set off on a swim later. (I generally don’t go near water, nope.) And now here we are. 

There'll be no need for lunch after a breakfast like this

There won’t be much to write about today — a short walk up to the tower house in old town Kardamyli, maybe, and yet another seaside dinner. They’ve left us a little bottle of Ouzo here at the Anniska Apartments, so we may indulge in that this evening. 

So this is all you get today, with greetings from heaven.

Ancient Olympia

 Oct 2

After another Gartagani Guesthouse breakfast, we headed down from the mountains towards Olympia. The drive was twisty but not terrible, though Google misled us in one village and there were a few hair-raising moments when it looked like we were meant to drive down a rocky embankment, but we did get back on track with not too much actual danger to life and limb. 

The car barely squeezed between these two walls. Google misdirection.

The road became wide enough, except when a farmer was moving his equipment.

Arriving in Olympia, we were happy to find much warmer temperatures than in the hills. In fact, it was hot in the sun, and we sought shade. We stopped in a little mom-and-pop place for lunch. I think we're learning how to eat in Greece, sharing dishes rather than ordering something for each of us. Portions are large, and plates are often a la carte, so if you order, say, fish, you get just fish. Today we had filo-wrapped cheese pies, a green salad, beets, and tzatziki. It felt like a reasonable and healthy lunch, better than we’d been doing before now, and everything was fresh, which it wasn’t up in the hills. 

We visited what we’d come here for, the ancient site of Olympia. It was much as I’d expected, mostly a bunch of rubble with very little reconstruction. Still, it’s fascinating to imagine the grandeur that was once here, and to see the remains of structures that mark the beginnings of the Olympic games. We spent some time just sitting in the stadium, where the Olympic flame is lit for every Olympic games before it starts its journey to whatever city is hosting in any given year. One can’t help but be awed in these places.

Pillars outlining what was once an arcade around a space for combat sports such as wrestling

Searching for something, anything

Inside Phidias's workshop, where he made the statue of Zeus that later became designated as one of the seven wonders of the ancient world

Pillar bases are all that's left of this temple

The one pillar still standing in the Temple os Zeus.

Lots of rubble as the Temple collapsed in an earthquake

Similar to the iconic Tholos of Delphi, this is a partial reconstruction of the Philippaeon

This arch was the end of a long tunnel through which the athletes would enter the stadium

 

The original Olympic Stadium. If you look closely, you might see two people midway down.

There is evidence of building in Olympia from the 8th century BCE, and recent excavation have revealed prehistoric occupation of the site. Olympia flourished until the 4th century CE, when earthquakes toppled temples and invaders plundered monuments. The Olympic festival was eventually banned by the Christian emperor Theodosius. Flooding led the site to be abandoned finally in the early 7th Century.

But what’s fascinating to me is that this huge, important site was buried under up to 8 metres of silt and wasn’t re-discovered until the late 18th century -- it had disappeared and no one seemed to remember it. The first excavations began in 1829, and some major structures were only revealed as late as 1972. Excavation continues still.

As always, the artifacts from the site are now housed in a nearby museum. There we saw the remains of the pediment sculptures from the Temple of Zeus, the largest religious structure of the site, second in size only to the Parthenon. Seeing the size of the sculptures helps us realize just how immense the temple was. We saw helmets and statues and lots of pottery.

Nike, the victory goddess. Same goddess as "Winged Victory" in the Louvre

I like this helmet because it's similar to the one on the cover of "Song of Achilles" by Madeline Miller, a book I recommend if you're interested in the Trojan War

Pediment statuary and spectators. The temple was massive.

We walked the short walk back to town. The current municipality of Archaia Olympia, the official name of the town, was nonexistent before the excavations of the ancient site began to draw public interest. So this is a town developed purely for tourism (aside from the need for housing for the excavation workers), and it shows. It’s a pretty setting, but it’s Disneyland. Tacky shop after tacky shop, taverna after taverna. We sat in one of them for a while, enjoying cool Radlers, until it was time to think about dinner, which we had in one of the cavernous tavernas designed for the tourbus crowd. Hundreds of tables, but fortunately for us, few of them were filled tonight. The wine was terrible.

 

Barely drinkable wine from a half-litre copper carafe. Cheers!