Greece - Nafplio

Corinth

There were only about forty feet separating me from my family, but I watched them nervously and tried to mentally force the people in line ahead of me to move faster.  We were thirty minutes away from leaving Santorini, and Deena had already gone through airport security with the kids while I stayed out front waiting on the Hertz guy to show up for work so I could return our rental car.  Due to his late arrival, I was now sweating out the security process while I could see my family gathering our luggage for the boarding line.  Santorini airport security consisted of a portly gentleman in a blue uniform with a pistol strapped to his hip, and he took his job seriously.  By the time I got through the metal detector, my hands were shaking, but I was thankful to be reunited with my crew ready to fly back to Athens after three relaxing days on Santorini.  After an easy flight and quick rental car process, we left the Athens airport bound for Nafplio in our dark gray Ibiza on a clear day with a cloudless blue sky surrounding the mountains.

For the next eight days, we’re exploring the Peloponnese, the southernmost section of mainland Greece which is connected at the Isthmus of Corinth.  This legendary peninsula is marked by mountainous topography, and it was home to the original Olympic Games, the Mycenaean civilization, and many of the most powerful city-states in ancient Greece including Corinth and Sparta.  The Peloponnese is rich in beauty and history, and travel pundits rank the area highly on the best of Europe lists.  The highways were well maintained and almost empty as we made our way south, and since we couldn’t check into our apartment in Nafplio until 2:00, we planned to stop at ancient Corinth for a visit to the ruins.  Thanks to Google Maps and good signage, we pulled into a free parking lot in the modern town of Corinth and made the short walk to the archaeological site of the ancient city, where we completely immersed ourselves in many years of complicated history while touring this incredible place.

Temple of Apollo

Corinth

Fountain

Ancient Corinth was always a place of wealth due to its fortuitous location which made it a center for trade and a blending of cultures.  As far back as 800 BC, the Greeks perfected the workings of this city leading up until the classical period when it reached the height of its beauty and infrastructure.  Those pesky Romans came along and burned the place down in 146 BC then rebuilt it in under the auspices of none other than Julius Caesar in 44 BC.  By the time the Apostle Paul came to Corinth in 51 AD, the city was once again a major trade center with unparalleled architecture and a lot of naughty things happening in the temples.  On the highest point in the complex of ruins, the remains of the Temple of Apollo visually testify to the former beauty and power on display in the ancient city.  Surviving the Roman destruction, this temple was built in 500 BC, and it’s still impressive twenty-five hundred years later.  The site was uncrowded, and we practically had it to ourselves as we wandered around for a couple of hours reading about the forms of architecture used in construction of the buildings and the planning and skill needed to build the main roads, drainage systems, and fountain complexes.  One of the highlights of our visit to Corinth was standing in the place of judgment where Paul was brought to give an account to the proconsul of the region, Gallio. He dismissed Paul’s accusers without the apostle ever having to open his mouth to give defense.  We left ancient Corinth walking down the avenue of marble pavers that used to stretch three miles from port to port two-thousand years ago, and they’re still firm underfoot today.

Paul stood here to be judged

Marble Corinthian Road

Ancient ruins generate modern hunger, so we chose an outdoor cafe near the complex in which to have our luncheon, and we enjoyed chunks of herb encrusted roast pork served with potatoes and tzatziki sauce and a generous bowl of Greek salad with tomatoes, onions, olives, and crunchy cabbage lining the bottom of the bowl.  The salad was dripping with rich olive oil, and we used our crusty bread to soak up the excess.  As we pushed back from empty plates, the proprietor's son brought a bowl of freshly picked oranges to our table, and the tennis-ball-sized fruit still had stems and slender leaves still attached.  The oranges peeled easily, and we devoured every last section of the sweet ripe fruit.  

We still had about an hour’s travel to Nafplio, and drove mostly through long valleys lined with orange and olive trees and fringed with low, sharply contoured mountains.  Our house was located a short distance from town at the point where the road began to climb the mountain of the citadel.  As we pulled into the driveway, our host, Theofilos, came out to meet us with a friendly wave and a lopsided grin.  Theo owns two buildings on the property, each one consisting of four apartments with views of the surrounding mountains.  His relatives live in most of the apartments, but he keeps two of them open to rent to travelers.  Our unit is large with commanding views of the countryside and gnarly, centuries-old olive trees just outside our windows.  Theo sat with us for a long time marking places of interest on a map and giving us advice to make our four-day stay easier.  He was a handsome fellow with thick black hair flecked with silver and bright green eyes covered by a dark brow.  His English was almost flawless, and he made us feel perfectly at home.  Joseph had already discovered the basketball court out back hidden in the olive grove, and he was soon joined by Theo’s equally handsome son, Vasili—I kept my beautiful daughter under close watch to prevent a local Greek god from sweeping her off her feet.  After resting a bit, Deena and I drove around until we found a grocery store and bought some supplies for supper which we brought home assembled into our own version of Greek salad.  

Coffee in the backyard

Next day, we rose early, and after a breakfast of omelets and grilled bread, we set out for the archaeological site of ancient Epidaurus which was a healing center constructed in 600 BC.  A cold front pushed through during the night leaving a gusty breeze and crisp air behind.  The sun was bright, but the deep blue sky from the day before was diluted to a watery hue as it appeared through wispy clouds.  We had only about a forty-five minute drive, and the main highways stayed on the valley floor, but we ascended into the hills several times on smaller connecting roads which narrowly cut through the center of small villages.  The larger mountains were desolate with light sienna-colored rock showing through gaps in the covering of dense, dark green scrub.  The low hillsides and valley floor had a hazy cast produced by the thin sunlight dissolving into the silver green foliage of the olive groves.

Other than a couple of cars and one tour coach, the parking lot at Epidaurus was empty, and we parked the Ibiza, paid a paltry eight euro-admission, and received the better end of the bargain as we set out on an amazing three-hour lesson in ancient history starting at the small museum.  The exhibits in the low narrow building were well curated, and we saw many statues and reliefs that told the story of this place of healing. From an up close perspective, a beautifully preserved Corinthian column capital revealed the skill necessary to complete such a fine work of art and architecture.  

Corinthian capital

Centers of healing in ancient Greece were called asclepions in honor of Apollo’s son, Asclepius the Healer, and the one located at Epidaurus was built in the sixth century BC and became famous and prosperous over the centuries.  The archeological prize in the complex of ruins here is the ancient theater of Epidaurus built in the fourth century BC and still retains its beautiful structure and near perfect acoustics.  The theater seats 14,000 people and is situated to look out over the soaring mountain range in the distance.  Music and theater were important elements of healing to the ancient Greeks, and they spared no expense in making this theater the finest in the land at that time.

We’ve had a lot of practice at home climbing to the cheap seats in the stratosphere of several arenas, and we used that experience to ascend the marble steps of the ancient theater for pictures of the view and to test the acoustics.  The once gleaming white marble steps, risers, and benches are now splotched with greenish-grey lichen, but this condition does nothing to detract from the beauty and excellent preservation of the arena.  The high rear perimeter is bordered with live oaks and olive trees, and there are mounds of acorns and olives to navigate at the top, but it’s a small nuisance compared to the view of the mountains behind the performance area.  I dropped a coin on the stone circle at center stage, and my crew heard it perfectly on the top row.  Then, to the sheer horror and embarrassment of my children, I turned on my radio voice and regaled the few other tourists in the theater with some broadcast lingo, Shakespeare quotes, the Scout Oath, and the Scout Law—it sounded like I was speaking into a high-powered microphone, and it was awesome.  

That's me down there center stage

"On my honor, I will do my best..."

We spent the final hour at the asclepion touring the vast field of ruins that contained a dormitory, bath complex, temples, and stadium complete with stone bleachers and starting blocks.  There was a small snack bar beside the parking lot, and we bought a light lunch of ham and cheese pies and hot dogs and ate at a stand-up table surrounded by a pack of cats and dogs hoping for a dropped morsel.  We had pity on the smallest animals forced to the outside of the circle by the larger ones, and made sure they got a bite to eat.  We drove back to Nafplio talking about the famous ruins we had just witnessed and wondered how people that lived so long ago were able to harness the technical skill to produce such a fine theater that is still being used for theatrical performances in the summer months.  I’m sure those productions pale in comparison to my oratory, and I was pleased to have stood on such a vaunted stage today.

Ancient loveseat

The ancient civilization of Mycenae was the subject of our next day on the Peloponnese, and thankfully the predicted weather forecast of cold temperatures and rain turned out to be incorrect as we struck out under sunny skies.  The citadel of ancient Mycenae was only about a thirty-minute drive from our apartment, and once we got outside Nafplio, the traffic was very light on the highways.  There are many questions debated among the smart guys about Mycenae, a civilization described by Homer in the epic poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, and many doubt that Homer existed at all.  Was he a historian or writer of fiction?  Was he an individual or a team of writers that collected and preserved folk legends?  Did he live in 500 BC or 1000 BC?  Was there really a Mycenaean king named Agamemnon, and was there a Trojan War?  Did Homer get beat up on the playground a lot because his parents named him Homer?  We’ll never have the answers to most of these questions, but there is no doubt that there was a powerful civilization anchored in the northern area of the Peloponnese which had branches of control extending into the Mediterranean region, and the remains of the citadel attest to its former glory.  We pulled into another empty parking lot just outside the ruins and paid another eight euro admission that entitled us entry into the museum, citadel, and the Treasury of Atreus.

We tackled the museum first, and although it was small, the exhibits here were well presented and offered many examples of Mycenaean art on pottery, weaponry, and small sections of frescos that survived the centuries.  A substantial quantity of gold artifacts and coins were found in shaft graves on the site, and many fine pieces were on display with wide variances of dates ascribed to them, but they were all at least three-thousand years old.  The famous Mask of Agamemnon that we saw in the museum in Athens was found on this site, and it was a treat to close that circle of archeology.  

From the museum, we climbed the steep path up to the citadel of the settlement, and stood for a long time in front of the mighty Lion Gate constructed of four huge stones weighing at least six tons each and 3,500 years old.  This amazing and imposing entrance surely filled visitors centuries ago with awe, and it had the same effect on us even with the settlement in ruins.  The citadel sits on a hilltop surrounded by mountains with a view to the sea over fifteen kilometers away.  We climbed to the highest point of the complex and looked out over the ancient realm of a once muscular empire that endured long enough to produce exquisite art and architecture and skills in language and writing.  As I stood in the bright sun with a stiff breeze whistling through the broken and weathered walls of the former citadel, I had a feeling similar to the one I experienced at Stonehenge.  I looked all around at the panorama full of high sage green mountains with the rocky hills sweeping up in between and wondered if the Lion Gate were gone and the walls removed, would I still sense that something significant happened here?  As powerful and influential as the Mycenaean civilization was, the mystery surrounding its rapid demise is deep, and we’ll never have all the answers, but viewing the evidence and pondering the former grandeur was satisfying enough for us on this day.

The Lion Gate of Mycenae

The summit of the citadel

Mycenae

On the way out of the complex, we stopped at the Treasury of Atreus, which is a Mycenaean tomb built around 1300 BC.  The tomb was carved into the hillside and contains a corbel arch with a lintel stone weighing a whopping 120 tons, and the lintel stone experts say it's the largest of its kind in the world.  The interior room is a huge dome which for over a thousand years had the distinction of being the biggest one in the world until the Pantheon was built in Rome.  Until a tour coach pulled in thirty minutes later, we had the entire place to ourselves, and after contemplating the amazing masonry work on the passage walls, we sat inside the tomb and stared at the sloping walls of the dome which were smooth and blackened with age.  Back outside, Joseph and I couldn’t resist the temptation to scamper up the steep slope to the summit of the tomb while Deena and Deveny stayed below to photograph our efforts.

Treasury of Atreus

Inside the tomb, the lintel stone is above me

Joseph and me on top of the treasury

A copy paper menu for the Elektra restaurant had been placed under our windshield wipers in the parking lot, and the prices were reasonable, so we stopped there on the way down and dined al fresco with a view of the mountains from the center of the little village.  We were the only ones in the restaurant during our entire meal of roast chicken and pastitsio, and the proprietor made a big fuss over us while his wife prepared the delicious food.  Over a desert plate of rich yogurt and honey, we discussed the things we learned at Mycenae, still amazed and thankful for the opportunity to be here together.  We drove back to our apartment on the hillside and picked a couple of oranges from the tree out front which we enjoyed as a snack before dinner.

We have one more day in Nafplio, which we’re hoping to spend catching up on school, laundry, and rest.  The town is considered one of the most beautiful on the Peloponnese, and we plan to spend a little time this afternoon exploring the old castle nearby and having lunch in the village center.  We’re moving on to the seaside town of Gythio in the southern Peloponnese tomorrow, and thankfully we don’t have to wake up at 4:00 in the morning to leave Nafplio.  We have seen incredible evidence of the rise and fall of empires here and understand why regional pride runs so deep in this beautiful part of Greece.