I spent the fourth day of the trip on the Acropolis, Areopagus Hill, the Hill of the Muses, and the Hill of the Pnyx.
Athens.
Acropolis.
Areas around the Acropolis (Ancient agora, Agora Museum, hills around).
15 October 2007
12 October 2007
Please Don't Stand on My Monument, but You Can Sit on Those Rocks
I am convinced there is no animal dumber than the tourist in search of the perfect photo. Well, maybe the sea cucumber, but it would be a tight race. Hence, the tourist herder. These brave souls, bane and boon alike to the tourist, are responsible for the protection of the archaeological monuments and the dignity of Greek antiquities. She (they are almost all women) has a badge; but most importantly, she has a chrome whistle, and she's not afraid to use it. Shrilly and repeatedly. Again and again.
At the Acropolis, I watched an older Italian man step over a cordon less than two feet tall--when he was already in front of all others--in order to take two steps toward the Parthenon. I'm not sure what advantage those two feet gave him, but he sure wasn't going to be stopped by the steel wire fence and the presence of two tourist herders.
"Please, stay on the other side of the cordon," one woman says. The man squints into the viewfinder of his camera and pretends not to hear.
Tweet! Tweet! Both women whistle and walk toward the man pointing at the wire cordon.
He snaps his photo, then looks up. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know," he says, adjusts his floppy hat, and steps back over the wire.
Didn't know . . . yeah.
Not surprisingly, the tourists and tourist herders were thickest in Athens. As I traveled farther from Athens, the tourists and tourist herders grew fewer, and there was much more freedom to explore the archaeological sites. Ancient Messene was my favorite site for a couple of different reasons. 1) I pretty much had the entire site to myself--I even had my own tourist herder. 2) The work there had been ongoing for some time and many structures at the site were beautifully restored.
In the museums the tourist herders primary responsibility was to ensure that people weren't touching the artifacts. Their second responsibility seemed to be preventing tourist from taking posed pictures in front of or with the statuary. Again and again, I saw them shake their hands and tell people not to pose in front of the life-sized and larger statues. (At least they didn't have whistles indoors.) Finally, in Olympia, I asked one of the herders what this was about. She said that it was about respect for the works and the Greek cultural heritage. It was the policy throughout Greece to allow photos of the works alone because that placed the focus on the artifact, its maker, and its place in Greek history; but when people posed for photos with the artifact, that changed the focus of the photo to themselves instead of the work. The Greek cultural bureaucracy had determined that goofy pictures were somehow disrespectful, and so they decided to enforce this rule throughout all the museums. As you can probably tell from my word choice, I'm somewhat suspicious of this move. While I certainly agree that when one screws off and takes goofy pictures, the emphasis of the photo is placed on the person instead of the artifact; however, it seems highly unlikely that one can enforce respect by restricting the kinds of photos taken. I'm not even sure how simply posing with the statues is disrespectful, though I can imagine certain interactions with the statues that would be objectionable to some (say, groping the "Aphrodite" of Praxiletes, humping the sphinx statues, or placing a Groucho Marx mustache and glasses and a cigar on the "Athena Promachos").
At the archaeological sites, the herders primary function was to keep tourist off the monuments and out of dangerous or unsightly areas. To this end, they employed the chrome whistles with ferocity.
Did I get whistled at? You bet.
The problem was that there was no consistency. Crossing a cordon would pretty much get you whistled at every time, but otherwise it was difficult to figure out what actions would gain you a rebuke from the tourist herders. In Athens and Delphi some rocks you could sit on, but if you stood on them, out came the whistle. This got me in trouble in the Stoa of Attalos in the Ancient Agora of Athens and along the Sacred Path at Delphi. At other sites (Olympia, Corinth, and Messene), you could wander all around, through, and on top of the structures. In Messene, you could enter buildings and touch the walls and sit in the stadium and theater seats, but in Delphi none of the above. Often I asked myself before sitting or standing, Just what is rock and what is ruin? It's not like there were clear markers, or in many cases, any markers at all.
Yet in spite of their obnoxious whistles, the tourist herders are absolutely necessary, as my story of the Italian man illustrates. Without them, I can't imagine that the sites would last more than a century of modern tourist trampling and pilfering.
At the Acropolis, I watched an older Italian man step over a cordon less than two feet tall--when he was already in front of all others--in order to take two steps toward the Parthenon. I'm not sure what advantage those two feet gave him, but he sure wasn't going to be stopped by the steel wire fence and the presence of two tourist herders.
"Please, stay on the other side of the cordon," one woman says. The man squints into the viewfinder of his camera and pretends not to hear.
Tweet! Tweet! Both women whistle and walk toward the man pointing at the wire cordon.
He snaps his photo, then looks up. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know," he says, adjusts his floppy hat, and steps back over the wire.
Didn't know . . . yeah.
Not surprisingly, the tourists and tourist herders were thickest in Athens. As I traveled farther from Athens, the tourists and tourist herders grew fewer, and there was much more freedom to explore the archaeological sites. Ancient Messene was my favorite site for a couple of different reasons. 1) I pretty much had the entire site to myself--I even had my own tourist herder. 2) The work there had been ongoing for some time and many structures at the site were beautifully restored.
In the museums the tourist herders primary responsibility was to ensure that people weren't touching the artifacts. Their second responsibility seemed to be preventing tourist from taking posed pictures in front of or with the statuary. Again and again, I saw them shake their hands and tell people not to pose in front of the life-sized and larger statues. (At least they didn't have whistles indoors.) Finally, in Olympia, I asked one of the herders what this was about. She said that it was about respect for the works and the Greek cultural heritage. It was the policy throughout Greece to allow photos of the works alone because that placed the focus on the artifact, its maker, and its place in Greek history; but when people posed for photos with the artifact, that changed the focus of the photo to themselves instead of the work. The Greek cultural bureaucracy had determined that goofy pictures were somehow disrespectful, and so they decided to enforce this rule throughout all the museums. As you can probably tell from my word choice, I'm somewhat suspicious of this move. While I certainly agree that when one screws off and takes goofy pictures, the emphasis of the photo is placed on the person instead of the artifact; however, it seems highly unlikely that one can enforce respect by restricting the kinds of photos taken. I'm not even sure how simply posing with the statues is disrespectful, though I can imagine certain interactions with the statues that would be objectionable to some (say, groping the "Aphrodite" of Praxiletes, humping the sphinx statues, or placing a Groucho Marx mustache and glasses and a cigar on the "Athena Promachos").
At the archaeological sites, the herders primary function was to keep tourist off the monuments and out of dangerous or unsightly areas. To this end, they employed the chrome whistles with ferocity.
Did I get whistled at? You bet.
The problem was that there was no consistency. Crossing a cordon would pretty much get you whistled at every time, but otherwise it was difficult to figure out what actions would gain you a rebuke from the tourist herders. In Athens and Delphi some rocks you could sit on, but if you stood on them, out came the whistle. This got me in trouble in the Stoa of Attalos in the Ancient Agora of Athens and along the Sacred Path at Delphi. At other sites (Olympia, Corinth, and Messene), you could wander all around, through, and on top of the structures. In Messene, you could enter buildings and touch the walls and sit in the stadium and theater seats, but in Delphi none of the above. Often I asked myself before sitting or standing, Just what is rock and what is ruin? It's not like there were clear markers, or in many cases, any markers at all.
Yet in spite of their obnoxious whistles, the tourist herders are absolutely necessary, as my story of the Italian man illustrates. Without them, I can't imagine that the sites would last more than a century of modern tourist trampling and pilfering.
08 October 2007
Day 3 - National Archaeological Museum of Athens
The National Archaeological Museum of Athens was just up the street from my hostel, so I decided to start there for my exploration of all things Classical.
NAMA
NAMA
Day 2 - To Athens! (continued)
More thoughts about driving and Greece:
Contrary to what the guidebooks say, I have found the Greeks to be fairly guarded in their interactions with strangers. Yet, no one ever refused to help and they generally did their best--with one important exception: directions. The Greeks suck at giving directions. Many times they simple won't give them or they say something vague like, "go that way, take a right, take a left then ask someone else."
There's just a completely different view of automobile navigation here than in the States. In the U.S., we are automobile-centric. Our cities and signs are all designed to cater to the driver: gridded streets, signs at street corners at the right height to be seen from the car, lots of stop signs and street lights. As a result, it is very easy to get from place to place without too much fuss and stopping for directions. With Mapquest, Google, and Yahoo Maps, it's almost not necessary at all. There is no equivalent in Greece (that I know of).
I really had no idea that the U.S. was so orderly, until I arrived here. There are rules for every situation, and people generally follow them. In Greece, well, there might be rules, but the people really don't seem that interested in following them, nor the police that interested in enforcing them. As a consequence, Greece feels in a way more free. We spend a lot of time talking about freedom in the U.S., but we seem to spend an inordinate amount of time creating and following rules which restrict our freedoms. The Greeks seem to be more tolerant of randomness, and would rather deal person to person when things don't go quite right, than try to create systems of rules to cover every potential situation.
Contrary to what the guidebooks say, I have found the Greeks to be fairly guarded in their interactions with strangers. Yet, no one ever refused to help and they generally did their best--with one important exception: directions. The Greeks suck at giving directions. Many times they simple won't give them or they say something vague like, "go that way, take a right, take a left then ask someone else."
There's just a completely different view of automobile navigation here than in the States. In the U.S., we are automobile-centric. Our cities and signs are all designed to cater to the driver: gridded streets, signs at street corners at the right height to be seen from the car, lots of stop signs and street lights. As a result, it is very easy to get from place to place without too much fuss and stopping for directions. With Mapquest, Google, and Yahoo Maps, it's almost not necessary at all. There is no equivalent in Greece (that I know of).
I really had no idea that the U.S. was so orderly, until I arrived here. There are rules for every situation, and people generally follow them. In Greece, well, there might be rules, but the people really don't seem that interested in following them, nor the police that interested in enforcing them. As a consequence, Greece feels in a way more free. We spend a lot of time talking about freedom in the U.S., but we seem to spend an inordinate amount of time creating and following rules which restrict our freedoms. The Greeks seem to be more tolerant of randomness, and would rather deal person to person when things don't go quite right, than try to create systems of rules to cover every potential situation.
07 October 2007
European Cars
The Hyundai Gety--otherwise known as the Little Green Death Box on Wheels. I toured around Attica, Central Greece, and the Peloponnese in this gutless wonder. This photo was taken southeast of Thiva (modern Thebes) on the plain of Leuctra, where the Thebans defeated the Spartans in 371BC. Now--just like then--it's all farmland. To take this photo, I stood on a marble victory monument in the middle of an onion field.European cars, in general, are tiny. Boxy little Hyundais, Hondas, Peugeots, Citroens, VWs, Cooper Minis, and even a couple Fords. I suppose that makes a lot of sense, since gas costs about $4 a gallon.
My favorite was the DaimlerChrysler Smart ForTwo hybrid. They're about as long as a Hummer is wide.
06 October 2007
Days 1 & 2 - To Athens!
So I got caught up in the delayed flight epidemic in the US. Stuck in Philadelphia for 3 hours beyond the departure time. I spent the time reading Paul Cartledge's Agesilaos and the Crisis of Sparta, which is by far the most useful book I've found so far for my research. Tons of background detail on the exact time period my novel covers; he pulls together all the ancient sources on this narrowly focused topic. Anyway, we finally got on the plane to go to Zurich, taxied for takeoff, and then the pilot came on: there was a hydraulic problem. So we taxied back to the gate, and it turned out it was actually two hydraulic problems. After another hour, we taxied back out to the runway and this time we actually took off. I missed the connection to Athens and so they scheduled me on a Swiss Air flight that was only 45 minutes late. After 17 hours of flights and airports and whatnot and 4 hours of sleep, I arrived in Athens.
Rule #1: Never drive in Athens. Alas, I learned this lesson the hard way. It took me 3 hours to make the 1/2 hour drive from the airport to the hostel. I managed to drive out of the city twice before finding the street I was looking for. Here's why:
Athens is pure chaos molded in concrete. There are mopeds, scooters, and motorcycles whizzing by, weaving through, spinning out, roaring past everywhere. Half the time there are no lanes. No one signals. Everyone is in a state of extreme haste. Wait! There's more... There's no city planning and almost no street signs. Those that exist are high up on the sides of buildings hidden under awnings or trees. And, well, they're in Greek--which I can sound out but not in the time it takes to drive past them.
After 2 hours of this adventure, I was ready to start bawling. That was when I figured out it was faster to stop and walk around a bit, ask for directions and then drive a bit and then repeat the whole process. I end up, purely by accident, parking on the street that the hostel is on, but I walk the other direction and pester some men chatting in front of a taverna. They point to a gaggle of tourist walking up the road, and that's when I finally discover the street sign, 12ft up on a building facade, and learn that I've been on the right street for the last 20 minutes.
More later.
I've started a web photo gallery. Here's the general link where you can see all the individual albums from each day of the trip: Greece Trip Gallery.
Here's Day 2.
Rule #1: Never drive in Athens. Alas, I learned this lesson the hard way. It took me 3 hours to make the 1/2 hour drive from the airport to the hostel. I managed to drive out of the city twice before finding the street I was looking for. Here's why:
Athens is pure chaos molded in concrete. There are mopeds, scooters, and motorcycles whizzing by, weaving through, spinning out, roaring past everywhere. Half the time there are no lanes. No one signals. Everyone is in a state of extreme haste. Wait! There's more... There's no city planning and almost no street signs. Those that exist are high up on the sides of buildings hidden under awnings or trees. And, well, they're in Greek--which I can sound out but not in the time it takes to drive past them.
After 2 hours of this adventure, I was ready to start bawling. That was when I figured out it was faster to stop and walk around a bit, ask for directions and then drive a bit and then repeat the whole process. I end up, purely by accident, parking on the street that the hostel is on, but I walk the other direction and pester some men chatting in front of a taverna. They point to a gaggle of tourist walking up the road, and that's when I finally discover the street sign, 12ft up on a building facade, and learn that I've been on the right street for the last 20 minutes.
More later.
I've started a web photo gallery. Here's the general link where you can see all the individual albums from each day of the trip: Greece Trip Gallery.
Here's Day 2.
03 September 2007
Tentative Itinerary
Day 1: Outbound.
Columbus --> Philadelphia --> Zurich (why Zurich? I've no idea) --> Athens.
Day 2: Athens.
Check in at Athens International Youth Hostel. Eat at a taverna and get my bearings.
Day 3&4: Athens.
Wander the Acropolis, Acropolis Museum, and the National Archaeological Museum of Athens.
Day 5: Athens.
Wander the Monastiraki flea market. Day trip to Piraeus or Marathon.
Day 6: Thiva (Thebes).
Visit Leuctra where Thebes defeated Sparta in 371B.C. (maybe also Haliartus[Aliartos?]). Check into Hotel Niovi in Thiva.
Day 7: Thiva/Delphi.
Wander the Archaeological Museum of Thiva. Drive to Delphi. Check in Hotel Athina. Hike one of Mt. Parnassos three peaks.
Day 8: Delphi.
Wander the site and museum.
Day 9. Delphi/Olympia.
Drive to Olympia. Check in at Hotel Kronio. Wander site & museum (if time).
Day 10: Olympia/Messinia.
Wander site and museum if not finished. Check in at hotel in Langada Pass (if not burned up in forest fires).
Day 11: Messinia/Sparti (Sparta).
Wander Ancient Messenia (Mt. Ithome).
Day 12: Sparti.
Wander the Archaeological Museum of Sparti. Explore Eurotas Valley.
Day 13: Sparti.
Explore Eurotas Valley. Hiking in Taygetos.
Day 14: Sparti/Gythion (port city of ancient Sparta).
Wander through Mystras. Explore Eurotas Valley.
Day 15: Gythion.
Wander, eat, swim. (Maybe Diros Caves or Monemvasia).
Day 16: Argos/Corinthos (Corinth).
Wander Acrocorinth and Ancient Corinth.
Day 17: Inbound.
Drive to Athens. Athens --> Philadelphia --> Columbus
Columbus --> Philadelphia --> Zurich (why Zurich? I've no idea) --> Athens.
Day 2: Athens.
Check in at Athens International Youth Hostel. Eat at a taverna and get my bearings.
Day 3&4: Athens.
Wander the Acropolis, Acropolis Museum, and the National Archaeological Museum of Athens.
Day 5: Athens.
Wander the Monastiraki flea market. Day trip to Piraeus or Marathon.
Day 6: Thiva (Thebes).
Visit Leuctra where Thebes defeated Sparta in 371B.C. (maybe also Haliartus[Aliartos?]). Check into Hotel Niovi in Thiva.
Day 7: Thiva/Delphi.
Wander the Archaeological Museum of Thiva. Drive to Delphi. Check in Hotel Athina. Hike one of Mt. Parnassos three peaks.
Day 8: Delphi.
Wander the site and museum.
Day 9. Delphi/Olympia.
Drive to Olympia. Check in at Hotel Kronio. Wander site & museum (if time).
Day 10: Olympia/Messinia.
Wander site and museum if not finished. Check in at hotel in Langada Pass (if not burned up in forest fires).
Day 11: Messinia/Sparti (Sparta).
Wander Ancient Messenia (Mt. Ithome).
Day 12: Sparti.
Wander the Archaeological Museum of Sparti. Explore Eurotas Valley.
Day 13: Sparti.
Explore Eurotas Valley. Hiking in Taygetos.
Day 14: Sparti/Gythion (port city of ancient Sparta).
Wander through Mystras. Explore Eurotas Valley.
Day 15: Gythion.
Wander, eat, swim. (Maybe Diros Caves or Monemvasia).
Day 16: Argos/Corinthos (Corinth).
Wander Acrocorinth and Ancient Corinth.
Day 17: Inbound.
Drive to Athens. Athens --> Philadelphia --> Columbus
Liar!
Yep, I'm a lying bastard. July 1st? Hmm... Well, even so, I'm still not ready to get back to doing story words. Instead I'm going to use the blog for the next couple weeks as a travel journal. I'm going to Greece! I'll be researching the Classical Period of Attica and the Peloponnese for a novel about the decline of Sparta after their victory over Athens in the Peloponnesian War. After the trip, I plan to resurrect Word-of-the-Day.
30 April 2007
On hiatus
18 April 2007
deus ex machina \DAY-us-eks-MAH-kih-nuh\ noun
You would not believe the wonders housed inside the mad god's treasure room. Shelves lined all the walls and in the far corner a great machine hummed, burbled, and fnorked. I tried to put deus back into the machina, but he wouldn't fit. Descartes and Newton had gained a bit of weight and filled most of the interior. Squashed into a little nook, I saw Laplace, who was complaining that he couldn't find his spectacles, because Newton was so corpulent that he blocked all the light that was rightfully his. "He's a great fat modern eclipse," I heard him say as I shut the lid on the machine and set it for spin cycle.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Apr.18.2007
02 April 2007
rebarbative \rih-BAR-buh-tiv\ adjective
Willie Mac was a rebarbative sonovabitch out of Tuscaloosa. He flunked out of AU ten years back on account of too much whiskey and whippets and a nineteen-year-old girl, name of Sandee, who worked the Quick Stop on MLK Jr. Blvd. He'd been floating around Ohio for the better part a year, when he decided to wreak his vengeance on all things Northern, starting with my car interior. His weapon of choice, a double order of frijoles. Last Thursday, off we went to Black Lick to pick up my squeeze, Wanda, and her cousin, Sammi Lyn; me driving and Willie Mac spewing invective from both ends.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Apr.02.2007
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Apr.02.2007
30 March 2007
ersatz \AIR-sahts\ adjective
Tucker sat in the doctor's waiting room surrounded by fellow patients and a wealth of ersatz: fake potted plants, imitation leather chairs, chipboard end tables veneered to look like oak. He drank coffee from a polystyrene cup. The irony that he was here today to have his hip joint replaced with titanium, ceramic, and plastic was not lost on him. He laughed bitterly, but no one paid him any mind.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.30.2007
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.30.2007
29 March 2007
bucolic \byoo-KAH-lik\ adjective
Merle and I strolled across the Johnson acreage. My piss yellow '78 Scout had crapped out three, four miles back on Route 57. It was growing dark, and we were about twenty miles yet from town with nothing to keep us company except sage and a trio of the Johnson's horses out to pasture.
"Didn't you grow up on a ranch?" I asked my friend. He nodded his shaven, sun-burnt head. With that red head atop his scrawny neck, he looked more buzzard than man.
"Well, then," I said, "get your bucolic ass over there and rustle us up a horse."
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.29.2007
"Didn't you grow up on a ranch?" I asked my friend. He nodded his shaven, sun-burnt head. With that red head atop his scrawny neck, he looked more buzzard than man.
"Well, then," I said, "get your bucolic ass over there and rustle us up a horse."
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.29.2007
28 March 2007
inveigh \in-VAY\ verb
Mother was a noted sesquipedalian who would never use a ten cent word when she could employ a ten dollar word. I remember one morning, years ago now, when she said to me, "Inveigh all you want, but you are not wearing that skirt to school." I just laughed at her and poor Mother's face, since she had no idea that I was laughing at her diction rather than her demand, turned all blotchy red.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.28.2007
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.28.2007
27 March 2007
corrigendum \kor-uh-JEN-dum\ noun
Constable John Williams stood outside the door of the printer's house, waiting for a small detachment of his men to arrive. They were to arrest the man for corrupting the corrigendum of the new property rights bill from the Commons. He had taken the opportunity, among all the corrections, to add a provision that barred foreigners from purchasing new lands within the Commonwealth. Likely the King, who was a well-known xenophobe, was behind the printer's audacious act. The King would no doubt pardon the printer as soon as John had arrested the man. And so John found himself caught yet again between the political machinations of Commons and King.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.27.2007
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.27.2007
26 March 2007
panoply \PAN-uh-plee\ noun
We Spartans lined up before the Theban hoplites, and we did not fear their sharp-bladed spears nor their spindles nor their swords. Our shields formed a wall and we were as a wall, a wall of brothers. I knew that my own spear would pierce the Theban panoply in the thick of the crack and thunder of our meeting, just as I knew my brothers' would strike through to the hearts of our enemy.
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.26.2007
http://www.webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Mar.26.2007
25 March 2007
Welcome
Hi,
My name is Brian Richard Wade, and I'm a writer living in Columbus, OH. I'm currently in the Ohio State creative writing MFA program, and I'm at work on my first novel. This blog is going to be non-standard. It will be a short bit of daily writing to get the creative ichor flowing though my vital parts. I'm going to use the word sent to me via Merriam-Webster's WotD site as my prompt for each session. Read if you wish, comment if you must.
-brian
My name is Brian Richard Wade, and I'm a writer living in Columbus, OH. I'm currently in the Ohio State creative writing MFA program, and I'm at work on my first novel. This blog is going to be non-standard. It will be a short bit of daily writing to get the creative ichor flowing though my vital parts. I'm going to use the word sent to me via Merriam-Webster's WotD site as my prompt for each session. Read if you wish, comment if you must.
-brian
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