Return to Mycenae

Mycenae…

The name conjures something deep inside, something out of myth and legend. There is a feeling of mystery about the name, of power, and perhaps of dread.

How is that? It’s just a name after all, isn’t it?

Not really. It’s much more than that.

Mycenae.

It echoes in the mind, in the memory of time. For me, it is something of a sign post in far away antiquity. It’s not just a place, but also a culture, a people… It is a warlike period that stands out in the vast Bronze Age, between the Age of Heroes and the Archaic period.

Mycenae itself, the place, is a symbol of a brutal time, long ago, that continues to captivate our imaginations, the same way that it has done for our ancestors since then.

Mycenaean Warriors

A barrage of names comes to mind when I think of Mycenae, like so many barbed bronze arrows raining down in the midst of a battle – Atreus, Agamemnon, Achilles, Menelaus, Helen, Clytemnestra, Electra, Orestes and all the heroes of the Trojan War. I think of Homer whose epic Iliada immortalized them all, and even of Alexander the Great who is said to have slept with a copy of that epic beneath his pillow.

Before the summer of 2023, the last time I had visited Mycenae, that dread cyclopean-walled palace whose corridors echoed with war and murder, was on a warm day in March over twenty-years ago.

On my first visit, it was springtime, the ruins surrounded by wild flowers.

I had been back to Greece frequently since then, of course, visiting other archaeological sites, writing about them in my novels and articles, but in all that time, I avoided Mycenae.

I don’t know why exactly, but my natural tendency was to give it a wide berth, to be near it, but only orbiting it. I avoided the tourist assault upon the great ‘Lion Gate’, and the blazing heat that one experiences when visiting it in high summer.

I felt like returning to Mycenae too soon was like returning to the scene of a crime. There is a lingering sadness, a sense of loss about the place that is difficult to describe.

As the epics teach us, however, life is beautiful, and terrible, and fleeting. Since my first visit long ago, time seemed to have flowed more quickly than I would have wished when I as a child.

The citadel of Mycenae as seen from the approach on the road from the modern village of Mykines.

When I first visited Mycenae I was much younger, a little naive, and definitely more idealistic. I was just setting out for my own battles beneath the walls of a distant, metaphorical Troy.

Older now, and having endured my own toils, I wondered if I was ready to return to the flattened halls of Mycenae with a perspective that is afforded by age and experience.

With my wife, and our own children bearing the same excitement and idealism I once possessed, the decision was taken. We would make our way to Mycenae.

Aerial view of the archaeological site

Though it is mostly known as the fortress of King Agamemnon, who led the Greek army at Troy, Mycenae has a long, rich and mythical past.

Briefly then…

Although it is believed that there has been habitation on the acropolis of Mycenae since roughly c. 2500 B.C.E, legend has it that Mycenae was originally founded by Perseus, the son of Zeus and Danae, and first King of Mycenae. Perseus is said to have used the legendary Cyclops to build Mycenae’s great walls some time in the first half of the 14th century B.C.E.

For a long time, Mycenae thrived under the descendants of Perseus, including Eurystheus for whom Herakles performed his famed Labours. After Eurystheus was killed in battle against the children of Herakles and the Athenians, the people of Mycenae chose Atreus, the son of Pelops and Hippodameia to rule them.

Many years of prosperity and greatness followed under the Atreidai dynasty, beginning with King Atreus, and then under his son, King Agamemnon, who was said to be the greatest king in Greece, ruling over the plains of Argos to the south, and the entire northeastern Peloponnese, including Corinth, sometime between 1220-1190.

Mycenae was at the heart of this world, and one of the most important cultural and political centres during Greece’s Bronze Age until its destruction toward the end of the 12th century B.C.E.

It was (and remains) a place where the history of the curse of the Atreidai, written about by ancient playwrights, still echoes about the landscape, and behind the mass of Mycenae’s great Cyclopean walls.

Ajax, Agamemnon, and Odysseus

The later traveller Pausanias, who visited Mycenae in the middle of the second century C.E. is thought to be the last ancient author to write about Mycenae:

There still remain, however, parts of the city wall, including the gate, upon which stand lions. These, too, are said to be the work of the Cyclopes, who made for Proetus the wall at Tiryns.

In the ruins of Mycenae is a fountain called Persea; there are also underground chambers of Atreus and his children, in which were stored their treasures. There is the grave of Atreus, along with the graves of such as returned with Agamemnon from Troy, and were murdered by Aegisthus after he had given them a banquet. As for the tomb of Cassandra, it is claimed by the Lacedaemonians who dwell around Amyclae. Agamemnon has his tomb, and so has Eurymedon the charioteer, while another is shared by Teledamus and Pelops, twin sons, they say, of Cassandra, whom while yet babies Aegisthus slew after their parents. Electra has her tomb, for Orestes married her to Pylades. Hellanicus adds that the children of Pylades by Electra were Medon and Strophius. Clytemnestra and Aegisthus were buried at some little distance from the wall. They were thought unworthy of a place within it, where lay Agamemnon himself and those who were murdered with him.

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.16)

The Murder of Aegisthus by Orestes

When we made the decision to visit Mycenae again, these are the stories and people whom I was thinking about the night before as we ate dinner on a terrace beneath the stars.

The night was hot and calm, those ancient mountains black against the purple and indigo night sky pocked with stars. From our hotel in the modern village of Mykines, I was constantly aware of the citadel up the hill, surrounded by the tombs of legends. As I sipped cool wine from a glass and listened to the bark of a distant dog, or the screech of a fox, I wondered if, from the palace of Mycenae itself, Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, Orestes and Electra, or even a young Iphigenia, had seen what I was seeing.

Had those people of myth and legend looked from their palace walls to see the flickering of fires atop the walls of Argos across the plain? Had they travelled to make offerings to Hera at her sanctuary down the mountainside on the way to Tiryns? Did they enjoy the slash of brilliant blue afforded by the Gulf of Argos that lit the distance on a clear day? Did they too savour the wine, oil, and fruit of that very same land as I was in that moment?

It that ancient landscape laced with history and myth, I felt certain that they had done all of that.

The myths are everywhere in the Argolid.

Dinnertime view from the village of Mycenae to the south from the terrace of our hotel, La Petite Planète.

The next morning we rose early with the crowing of a nearby cock and the barking of a dog, had a hearty breakfast, and drove the short kilometre up the road to the archaeological site in the hopes of beating the crowds.

It was just 8 a.m. and yet the car park was already half-full, the sun beating down, priming us for yet another day of 45 degrees Celsius.

While most of the sweating hordes of tourists went first to the museum, or a stop at the loos, we marched directly up the curving path toward the high walls of Mycenae and found ourselves with a blessedly unobstructed view of the famed ‘Lion Gate’ of the citadel.

The ‘Lion Gate’ of Mycenae

It took my breath away, though I had been before, and seen it countless times in books while doing research.

To stand in the shadow of those Cyclopean walls, before that monumental gate, to imagine Mycenaean warriors with their spears and boar’s tusk helmets staring down at you, is an experience unlike any other.

The pictures don’t do it justice.

How many kings and warriors had walked through that gate? How many chariots with bronze warriors had driven up to it? How many Trojan slaves, like Cassandra, had been forced within that stoney curtain of unimaginable size?

After taking it in, we filmed what we needed to, and pressed forward to begin our exploration of the vast ruins.

It can be overwhelming to visit a site as big as Mycenae, especially if you don’t know what you’re looking at.

Fortunately, that was not us. It helps to be familiar with the site and to come armed with a proper map such as we were. There is no grid pattern such as one might find in ancient Roman settlements. Mycenae is spread out over the top of a high rock, and surrounded by higher mountains with deep chasms on the north and south sides, and and rocky cliffs that fall away to plains covered in olive groves and fruit trees in the valleys to the northwest and southwest toward Argos and the sea.

Inside the Lion Gate, and past the guardhouse on the left, we made directly for one of the most famous locations within the citadel: Grave Circle ‘A’.

This vast, deep circle surrounded by upright slabs was the royal cemetery, intended to impress those who entered the fortress, and to honour the dead rulers of Mycenae. This is where Heinrich Schliemann, the German archaeologist who discovered Troy, found the six grave shafts in 1876 and the remains of nineteen skeletons, including eight men, nine women, and two children. They were buried with riches, gifts, food and furnishings for their journey to the Underworld.

Bronze daggers found in ‘Grave Circle A’

It is also here that Schliemann and Greek archaeologist, Panagiotis A. Stamatakis, discovered among the grave goods some of the most famous artifacts from the period, including the bronze swords and daggers, golden goblets and cups, five golden death masks and other objects with elaborate gold leaf designs, amber and more.

Though Schliemann was determined that one of the graves and the golden death mask within it, belonged to Agamemnon, it was later determined that these burials predated that period by a few hundred years.

Still, the beauty of those finds is unmistakable, and the site unlike anything else.

Site of the Royal Tombs in Grave Circle ‘A’

After visiting Grave Circle ‘A’, most people will begin the trek to the upper acropolis where the palace is located, but before one does, it’s a good idea to continue ahead to view the southern sector of the citadel where there was a temple and the dwellings of the priests of Mycenae. From here, beneath the shade of a lone fig tree, one can look out across the plain to the distant mountains and sea.

I stood there for a few moments, the air white hot and dusty, the light blinding as I looked over my map to see my route up the stairs and the path that leads to the propylon of the palace.

View from the ‘Great Court’ and propylon of the megaron of the palace toward the Argolic Gulf and Argos across the plain.

On my first visit to Mycenae I didn’t really know what I was looking at. It was all quite overwhelming. Of course I knew about the Trojan War, and something of Agamemnon, but the importance of that place, those stories and characters in the identity of the west, and corpus of literature of western civilization, was still unknown to me.

However, on this visit, as I passed through the propylon, the grand entrance to the palace, I knew what lay ahead, knew that I was walking in the footsteps of legends.

The pathway leads up until, on your right, you come to a series of rooms that were the beating heart of the palace. There is a guest chamber where dignitaries would have stayed, and the ‘Great Court’ where courtiers and guests would have waited for an audience with the king. And then from the ‘Great Court’, you can see another propylon leading to what was the megaron of Mycenae, the throne room.

Artist impression of the megaron of Mycenae

On my first visit to Mycenae, I was able to walk though the ‘Great Court’ unimpeded, forward through the propylon, and on into the megaron itself. I remembered looking at the outline of a great circle in the middle where the hearth fire was supposed to have been located.

Sadly, today, the ‘Great Court’ and megaron are closed off, so I could only admire them from the path higher up. There is also now a small shelter over the location of the hearth fire, shielding it from the elements, and also from the prying eyes of tourists.

The megaron of Mycenae today. Note the roof covering the site of the hearth fire in the centre.

Perhaps one of the most interesting parts of the site, that may be linked to one of the bloodier episodes purported to have taken place at Mycenae, is the room adjacent to the throne room. This long oddly shaped room that has some low walls is thought to be the bathroom where, as legend has it, Clytemnestra murdered her husband, Agamemnon, as he bathed.

The Murder of Agamemnon, painting by Pierre-Narcisse Guérin (1817) – though not in the bath in this representation.

Having taken in the heart of the site, it is worth crossing the path and climbing up the ruins on the other side for a magnificent 360 degree view of the site and surrounding countryside. There was a later temple on this high spot, believed to be dedicated to either Hera or Athena. The temple is long gone sadly, but it is still worth standing there and taking it all in.

That done, we proceeded down the path that led to the eastern quarter of the citadel where it is believed there were artists’ quarters, store rooms, and other structures that formed part of the palace’s east wing.

Stairs leading down to the cistern of Mycenae

If you pass this eastern area of the citadel and proceed to the end of the path, you will find low ruins of buildings flanked by an arched ‘sally port’ on the right, and to the left the north ‘sally port’ beside which is the arched tunnel that leads down a staircase to the underground cistern of Mycenae. It is definitely worth having a look down there, but if you do go, bring a good flashlight so that you can properly peer into the darkness below.

The ‘North Gate’ of Mycenae’s citadel

After we emerged from the cool dark of the cistern, we exited the citadel at the North ‘Sally Port’ and took a path along the outside of the north wall to re-enter the citadel at the sturdy north gate of the acropolis. From here, the cliff falls away to olive groves and the site museum down the hill, built to look like the palace itself might have done.

Beautiful views are a constant when one visits Mycenae. You just have to remember to look up.

From there, the path leads along the inside of the north wall back to the guardhouse and the inside of the ‘Lion Gate’.

When we arrived back at the main gate, it was to a great invasion of tourists, all of them crowded beneath the monumental sculpture which they admired, taking advantage of the shade afforded by those magnificent Cyclopean walls.

I was grateful we had come early, and felt blessed to have had a quiet moment alone with the Lions of Mycenae.

One of the golden death masks found in Grave Circle ‘A’ at Mycenae. This one was believed by Schliemann to be the ‘face of Agamemnon’

Admittedly, the heat had been so intense, my mind so taken up with the site itself, that the museum which we visited afterward, was a bit of a blur. The most impressive finds from Mycenae are in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, but there is still a lot to see in the site museum at Mycenae itself. Once you have rested, it is definitely worth a look.

There is another aspect to my return to Mycenae that I have not covered, and that is my exploration of the great tombs that surround it.

Mycenae, it seems to me, is surrounded by the Dead, and after a brief rest, we went in search of them.

But that is a story for next time…

Stayed tuned for the next post on the ‘Tombs of Mycenae’

If you are interested in visiting Mycenae for yourself, be sure to check out the deals that are available from Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s subsidiary, Ancient World Travel here: 

https://www.ancientworldtravel.net/travel-resources-1  

Check out our specially-curated deals on visits, tours (many from Athens) and tickets to Ancient Mycenae by CLICKING HERE. 

If you want to see the magnificent collection of artifacts from Mycenae, you can get affordable tickets to the National Archaeological Museum in Athens by CLICKING HERE.

Also, read the review of La Petite Planète, a lovely hotel (with an amazing terrace for dinner!) in the village of Mycenae where you can stay here: 

https://www.ancientworldtravel.net/post/hotel-review-la-petite-planète-a-warm-welcome-in-the-shadow-of-ancient-mycenae

Lastly, check out the video of our site visit to Mycenae on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube and Rumble channels.

Walk with us through the ruins of this legendary site!

Stay tuned for our next post about the Tombs of Mycenae…

Thank you for watching, and thank you for reading!

 

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New Video! – Ancient Akrotiri: A Short Tour

Greetings History-Lovers!

Today we’ve got a new video tour that will transport you back in time to one of the greatest volcanic eruptions in the world’s history: the Minoan Eruption of Thera (Santorini).

This past summer, we had the wonderful opportunity to tour the archaeological site and it was, to be honest, quite a moving experience.

As we walked around, we forgot about the heat and the crowds around us. Our thoughts were solely of the Minoans, the people who had inhabited ancient Akrotiri. We wandered the ruins of this advanced, ancient civilization, looking at their homes, their streets, the pottery, and the walls that were adorned by some of the most beautiful frescoes ever discovered.

The ‘Spring Fresco’ from Akrotiri (National Archaeological Museum)

This is an ancient ghost town, a place that was once full of life, and art, and song, but which is now covered by layer upon layer of volcanic rock and ash.

In this short video, you will experience the excavations up close and personal to see how archaeologists have, over the years, brought Akrotiri back into the light.

For those of you who have not read it, be sure to check out our previous blog post Ghosts of Akrotiri by CLICKING HERE.

And so, without further ado, Eagles and Dragons Publishing presents our newest mini documentary Ancient Akrotiri: A Short Tour.

We hope you enjoy it!

Be sure to subscribe to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel so that you don’t miss any new releases.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for watching.

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Ghosts of Akrotiri

Greetings History-Lovers!

This week on Writing the Past, we have a special post to share with you.

This past summer, after twenty-two years, we were finally able to make a return trip to the Greek island of Santorini to visit the archaeological site of ancient Akrotiri.

It was a magical journey to a place that has not changed in thousands of years, on an island that has, in a way, changed a great deal.

Today, we want to share a bit of our adventure with you…

Santorini from Space (photo: Nasa Earth Observatory)

It is no secret that we visit Greece often. It is our other home and the place where most of our family is located. While we have our usual haunts, we do try to visit different places and islands whenever we are there.

This year, our family voted to go back to the Cyclades, that magical, swirl of rocky islands almost smack dab in the middle of the Aegean Sea. When one thinks of the Cyclades, one thinks of rocky shores dotted with whitewashed buildings with blue trim, brilliantly-clear turquoise beaches, and sunsets so beautiful they burn into your memory forever.

This group of islands set in the midst of Homer’s eternal wine-dark sea, is a place of gods and goddesses, of myth, and of legend.

When one thinks of the Cyclades, or the Greek Islands in general, it is no great surprise that the island that most often comes to mind is Santorini, and that is the island our family decided on.

When we began planning our Aegean odyssey last winter, it quickly became apparent that things had changed in the last twenty-plus years since we had last been there, mainly the prices.

The first step was to book our ferry tickets out of the ancient port of Piraeus, and herein was our first surprise. Whereas twenty years ago one could get ferry tickets to Santorini for around $40.00, we were shocked to see that the average cost now was closer to $200.00 per person!

After searching for some time, we found a better price and jumped on the tickets quickly as the ships were already selling out out. (CLICK HERE to see how we found the best deal).

Tickets in hand (plane and ferry), all that was left was to wait until summer. It was a long wait, but eventually, the time came for us to board.

Boarding Minoan Lines’ ‘Santorini Palace’ ship

When we arrived in Athena’s beautiful polis, it was in the midst of a heatwave in which temperatures hovered around 45 degrees Celsius! Let us just say that, in Athens, without air conditioning, that is hotter than Hades!

After four scorching days, it was time to board our Minoan Lines ferry at Piraeus, which we did after a tense taxi ride in which the driver seemed to be battling an army of tourists doing the exact same thing. It was as if the heat was driving everyone out of the city into the Aegean’s embrace.

Eventually, perspiring in the extreme from the outset, we found our ship, lugged our suitcases into the hold, found our seats, and settled in for the eight hour trip to our destination.

There is something special about sailing on the Aegean, a feeling one gets that is difficult to explain, but is inevitably brought about by that vast blue expanse.

Perhaps it is the fact that the Odyssey is so ingrained in our western psyche that there is an immediate sense of adventure, or even of impending danger around the next ‘corner’ of the journey? Or maybe it’s just the gentle lulling one experiences when immersed in myriad shades of blue beneath an Aegean sun.

Whatever it is that weaves a spell, as we reclined in our seats, the ship riding the waves like Poseidon’s hippocampus, we thought on the things we wanted to do during our three day sojourn on Santorini. Of course, eating as the sun set, swimming, and a bit of shopping were on the list, but top of mind for the history-lovers among us was our visit to the archaeological site of ancient Akrotiri.

Minoan Boxers and the Saffron Gatherer, from Akrotiri

For those of you who may not be familiar with the history of Santorini (or ancient ‘Thera’ or ‘Calliste’ as it was called in the ancient world), the island was part of the Minoan civilization that was based on the island of Crete. Minoan civilization is often considered the earliest in Europe, and the Minoans themselves were highly advanced and traded all over the Mediterranean. They excelled in in art and architecture, though they also manufactured weapons.

This beautiful civilization, whose influence was felt across the Mediterranean world, existed from about 3100 B.C. to roughly 1100 B.C. when they were finally overrun but the much more warlike Mycenaeans. It was in the midst of this long period of existence that Minoan civilization experienced one of the most devastating natural disasters in human history – the Minoan Eruption at Thera.

Santorini’s Port and the Caldera

The eruption of the volcano of ancient Thera, which occurred sometime between 1600 and 1500 B.C., was catastrophic and is thought to have been one of the largest volcanic events to have ever occurred on Earth. It completely destroyed the island of Thera and the Minoan settlement of Akrotiri which was buried under layer upon layer of rock and ash. As a result of this cataclysmic eruption there were earthquakes, tsunamis, and mega-tsunamis that even destroyed parts of Minoan civilization on Crete far to the south.

The island of Thera, which was once whole, was blown to bits giving it the now-familiar crescent shaped outline we know today with the still-active volcano sleeping menacingly in the middle of the caldera.

The Minoan settlement of Akrotiri had been silenced forever after that eruption.

It is said that Akrotiri is the ‘Pompeii’ of Greece, but in reality the eruption was much worse. It is believed that the Minoan eruption at Thera was one-hundred times more powerful that the eruption of Vesuvius which destroyed Pompeii.

This ancient island of dangerous beauty was our destination as our ferry cut its way across the Aegean from the mainland, and while my mind wandered back in time to my previous visits to the island, our ship stopped at other islands en route.

Syros, Mykonos, Paros, and Naxos all teased us with their cliffs and beaches, their rocky shores surrounded by winking waves, all of them beautiful, and unique, and tempting. It is one of the joys of travelling by ship on the Aegean that one gets to see other islands along the way to your destination.

However, as Santorini came into view through the heat and sea haze, we were quickly reminded of how different it truly is from other islands.

Santorini’s Cliffs

Even approaching on a decent-sized ship, one feels small sailing up to Santorini with its red, black, and tan cliffs towering over you, topped by the whitewashed towns of Fira and Oia. You want to immediately disembark, to get to the top of the island and peer out over the world, but there is one thing that draws the attention away as you approach: the volcano.

Like a black, sleeping Titan in the midst of the deep caldera, you are acutely aware of the dark force that destroyed Akrotiri and the Minoan settlements on Thera. You are ever aware – once you find out – that the volcano is still alive.

That is something that rests at the back of your mind during your stay on this mysterious island.

Cruise ships around the volcano

As we said before, while some things on this ancient island have remained the same for thousands of years, other things on Santorini have changed a great deal. For us, this was quite evident in the costs of, well, everything!

Santorini is not an island for budget travellers, and it took some searching to find a hotel that did not cost more than the Golden Fleece. Thankfully, we succeeded in finding a welcoming roof that was centrally-located at the Nautilus Dome Hotel (CLICK HERE for a full review of this lovely hotel).

After the shock of disembarking into the chaos of Santorini’s port, we found our shuttle to the hotel and quickly got out, the car taking the long, switchback road up the cliff face to the summit.

The Nautilus Dome welcomed us with beautiful surroundings accented with bougainvillea and palms rustled by the hot Aegean breeze and views of the sea and caldera on two sides, the hilltop village of Megalochori on another, and Fira where it lay baking in the cliff-top sun on the other.

Entrance to the Nautilus Dome Hotel

After settling into our accommodation, it was time to head into Fira town for an evening of food, wine, and browsing the shops. The next morning we were scheduled to visit the archaeological site, and we went to sleep beneath a star-pocked sky, thinking of walking the long-silent streets of Akrotiri.

When morning came, it was bright and breezy, and the heat settled on that rocky landscape early in the day. We had a hearty breakfast, gathered our gear, and set out for Akrotiri.

Santorini Sunrise

When visiting Santorini, some people chose to rent a car or scooter or ATV, but we have always found that the buses are very reliable, and that they get you everywhere you want to go, including the archaeological site. The fare is only about two Euros per adult, so it is also affordable.

While riding the bus through various villages, one also notices how desolate the landscape is. This island is volcanic and very little grows here other than the famous grape vines used to make Santorini’s Assyrtiko wine, something that has been done for over 3,500 years.

One notices these strange, low vines that look more like bushes everywhere one goes on the island. They fill every field and backyard and, though they are ever-present, the yield is quite low, a major factor, we were told, in the high cost of Santorini wines.

When we arrived at the bus stop outside the ticket office for Akrotiri, our eyes were met with a blinding light and radiating heat that both seemed to be amplified by the rocky landscape where natural shade is a rarity.

Entrance to the archaeological site of Akrotiri

Fortunately for us, and perhaps unfortunately in a way, there were not many tourists heading to the archaeological site, most people opting to head from the bus stop to the nearby ‘Red Beach’ for the day.

Our footsteps, however, led us up the path to the archaeological site which is, thank the gods, covered and enclosed.

As we stepped from the blaze of Helios’ chariot outside into the dark silence of Akrotiri’s remains, a silence fell that is somewhat inexplicable.

Akrotiri is an ancient ghost town.

Main street of archaeological site

To visit ancient Akrotiri today is to be touched by a deep sadness. You ask yourself What happened here? though you well know the answer. You feel an affinity for the people who lived here, who shopped along those silent streets, who raised families, who ran their businesses or traded with others from across the sea.

As we walked around the perimeter of the excavations, peering down into the houses, buildings, and streets, admiring the remains of beautifully-decorated amphorae from the modern walkways, our imaginations could not help but hear the screams of the Minoans there, of men, women, and children who realized their world was coming to an end.

The sleeping Titan among them was awakening.

Minoan ship procession from Akrotiri

Unlike Pompeii however, the population of which Vesuvius destroyed so violently, so absolutely, no human remains have been found at ancient Akrotiri. Not a single body buried beneath the layers of rock and ash.

Akrotiri is a tomb without remains.

As one walks around the deserted settlement, it is something of a comfort to know that the Minoans of Akrotiri seemed to have had enough warning to be able to perform an orderly evacuation of the island before the eruption.

Whether their great sailing ships escaped the subsequent tsunamis, we do not know. Perhaps the people of Akrotiri went to the bottom of Poseidon’s sea, or perhaps they escaped to Crete, or to other friendly shores. No one knows for certain. It is one of those ancient mysteries we will never really know the answer to.

Storage amphorae at Akrotiri

Walking around the archaeological site, after one comes to terms with the tragedy and magnitude of what happened to the island, to the settlement of Akrotiri, you then begin to notice the details of the settlement.

Akrotiri was indeed an advanced civilization. From the walkways we could see two and three-storey buildings and homes. There are the remains of toilets, and drainage systems, and sewers. There was ventilation in homes to allow for cooling during the Mediterranean summer. They had ways of keeping their food properly stored so as to preserve it.

And there was art, oh yes…

The ‘Spring Fresco’ from Akrotiri (National Archaeological Museum)

Perhaps some of the most beautiful pieces of art from the ancient world are from Minoan civilization, and from Akrotiri itself. The homes of the people of Akrotiri were richly decorated with frescoes exploding in colour, displaying plant and wildlife, the people, and their seafaring world. Many of these frescoes are on display in the new museum in the main town of Fira, and at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens.

Whether Akrotiri was the doomed civilization of ‘Atlantis’ mentioned by Plato, as some scholars have supposed, we cannot say for certain (another ancient mystery!).

What we can say for certain, however, is that the Minoan settlement of Akrotiri was part of a beautiful, advanced civilization that met a sudden and terrible end.

As we finished our walk around the archaeological site, imagining what life might have been like there, mesmerized by the beauty of a Minoan house as recreated in a short video beside that very house, a strange feeling came over us. It was something that cannot really be explained.

That silence returned, a deep and eerie silence. The hum of tourist voices and fans seemed to turn to wind blowing through the main street of Akrotiri, pushing dust through thresholds and off of windowsills where people once peered down to the street below.

Though nobody seems to have perished at Akrotiri during the eruption of Thera, it still feels like a place of ghosts.

Minoan people lived here, they loved, they laughed, they worked, they created works of art, and when life happens in a place, that leaves an imprint on that place, and on time itself.

Ancient Akrotiri is indeed a place of ghosts, but also a place of vibrant life.

We were reminded of that on our return journey there.

As we stepped back out into the bright light of day, Helios’ chariot now high in the far-blue Aegean sky, we wondered what the great Minoan eruption of Thera must have felt like for the people of Akrotiri. Certainly the gods must have been angry with them for, as history teaches us, no civilization is without fault or hubris.

Then we remembered that the Titan that destroyed the island was yet sleeping in the caldera of Santorini very near to us, and we pushed the thought away, not wanting to wake it.

Hot and overwhelmed by what we had seen, we joined the long train of people making their way to the nearby ‘Red Beach’. It was time to cool off in the sea beneath rich red volcanic cliffs, to rest and reflect in that desolate landscape now packed with masses of spendthrift tourists.

The world of the Minoans of Akrotiri, their homes, their art and artifacts, and their end still haunt us.

We may never return to Santorini, that ancient island of Thera, but we will be thinking of Akrotiri’s silent, ancient streets for years to come…

Thank you for reading.

Santorini Sunset

Coming Soon!

Eagles and Dragons Publishing will be releasing a video tour of Ancient Akrotiri soon, so be sure to subscribe to our YouTube Channel so that you don’t miss it.

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Inspired by ancient Akrotiri and the art of the Minoans, Eagles and Dragons Publishing has also released a limited edition mug and bag bearing one of our favourite pieces of Minoan art, the ‘Minoan Birds’.

Click the image of your choice below to visit the Eagles and Dragons Publishing AGORA on Etsy for these and other gifts for history and mythology-lovers.

If you are interested in booking a trip to Santorini, check out the ‘Travel Resources’ page on the Ancient World Travel website for deals on airfare, ferry tickets, and the highly recommended hotel, Nautilus Dome.

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part VI – Epidaurus: Place of Dreams and Healing

Happy New Year, and welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we are taking a look at some of the research that went into our latest novel set in ancient Rome.

If you missed Part V on prostitution in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In Part VI, we’re going to be exploring one of the most important theatrical and healing sites from the ancient world: Epidaurus.

We hope you find it interesting…

Theatre of Epidaurus (photo: Dimitrios Pallis, IG @pallisd)

You may be wondering what a blog post about an ancient Greek theatre and sanctuary has to do with a story set in ancient Rome.

Well, let me tell you, it has a lot to do with it. Not only was the healing sanctuary at ancient Epidaurus well-known in the Roman world, but the great theatre there also plays an important role in Sincerity is a Goddess. However, not in the way you might think.

Don’t worry though, for there are no spoilers if you haven’t read the book yet.

In this post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at the two faces of ancient Epidaurus – the theatre itself, and the sanctuary of Asklepios which was renowned across the ancient world for its healing…and snakes!

Let’s get into it!

Plan of the Theatre of Epidaurus

Firstly, as Epidaurus is, today, famous for its well preserved odeon, and as Sincerity is a Goddess is partially a story about a theatre troupe, we’ll start with the theatre itself.

I’ve been to this site several times in the past, and I never tire of it. Some places are like that, I suppose. You can visit them again and again, and each time you do you get a different perspective that adds to your overall impression of the site.

The theatre of Epidaurus is like that.

For the history-lover in me, going there is like visiting a wise old friend. We greet each other, sit back in the sunshine, reminisce, and contemplate the world before us.

There is something comforting about going back to familiar places.

When you enter the archaeological site from the ticket booths and follow the path, you find the museum on your left, its wall lined with marble blocks covered in votive inscriptions from the sanctuary of Asklepios (more on that shortly). 

I don’t know why, but every time we visit Epidaurus, I’m always drawn to the theatre first. Perhaps it is more familiar, simpler than the archaeological site of the sanctuary opposite? You walk up the steep stone steps beneath scented pine trees and then, there it is!

The theatre lies in the blinding sunlight all limestone and marble, rising up in perfect symmetry before you with the mountains beyond.

It’s always a shock to stand there and see it for the first time, this perfect titan, an ancient stage beneath a clear blue sky where the works of Euripides, Aeschylus, Aristophanes, Sophocles and so many more have entertained the masses and provoked thought in the minds of mortals for well over two thousand years. 

In ancient times, one’s view from this vantage would have been partially blocked by the stage building, or scaena, but as it is today, you have a perfect view over the ruins of that building’s foundations.

Side entrance to the orchestra

The Epidaurians have a theatre within the sanctuary, in my opinion very well worth seeing. For while the Roman theatres are far superior to those anywhere else in their splendour, and the Arcadian theatre at Megalopolis is unequalled for size, what architect could seriously rival Polycleitus in symmetry and beauty? For it was Polycleitus who built both this theatre and the circular building. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.27.5)

The theatre of Epidaurus is considered the best-constructed and most elegant theatre of the ancient world. It was built in the 4th century B.C by the sculptor and architect, Polykleitos the Younger, who also designed the tholos in the sanctuary nearby. 

The theatre sat 14,000 spectators, and every one of them could see the stage and hear every momentous word that was spoken. 

As people are wont to do when visiting this theatre, I’ve stood at the centre of the stage (the orchestra), and dropped a coin so that my family and friends could hear it where they sat at the top row.

Then I speak…

It is a surreal, dreamlike experience to do so, from that orchestra, for your voice is so loud in your ears, you can’t quite grasp what is happening at first. It feels like you are speaking into a microphone, your voice amplified. But there are, of course, no electronics, just an ancient perfection of design that has set the standard for ages. 

You don’t want to tumble down this aisle!

I always climb the long central isle to the top row and sit down to take it all in. It’s a long way up, but the top provides the perfect vantage point of the sanctuary and landscape surrounding Epidaurus. I love to just sit there and listen to the cicadas, take in the view, and enjoy the dry, pine-scented air. 

I’ve had the privilege of seeing Gerard Dépardieu perform in Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, and Isabella Rossellini in an adaptation of Stravinsky’s Persephone in the theatre of Epidaurus. It was amazing to watch such wonderful actors giving a performance there, and it was obvious too that they were enjoying the space, the tradition they were taking part in. 

The last play I saw at Epidaurus was a performance of Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, a comedy in which the women of Greece withhold sex from all the men in order to put an end to the Peloponnesian War.

Isabella Rossellini in ‘Persephone’

When you see a play at Epidaurus, the audience is also participating in an ancient tradition. How many people have gone before us, sat in those seats, laughed and wept at the drama being played out before them?

It’s difficult not to think about that when you sit in the seats of Epidaurus. Whether you are basking in the hot rays of the Mediterranean sun, or waiting for a play to begin as the sun goes down and the stars appear, Centaurus and Cygnus twinkling in the sky above, one thing is certain – you will never forget the moments that you spend there.

Next, we’re going to venture away from the theatre for a brief visit to the museum, and then on into the peace and quiet of the Sanctuary of Asklepios, a place of miracles and ancient healing that was famous across the Greek and Roman worlds.

Looking north from the theatre to the sanctuary

When you enter the abode of the god

Which smells of incense, you must be pure

And thought is pure when you think with piety

This is the inscription that greeted pilgrims who passed through the propylaia, the main gate to the north, into the sanctuary of the god, Asklepios, at ancient Epidaurus.

The ancient writer, Pausanias, gives us some interesting insights…

The sacred grove of Asclepius is surrounded on all sides by boundary marks. No death or birth takes place within the enclosure. The same custom prevails also in the island of Delos. All the offerings, whether the offerer be one of the Epidaurians themselves or a stranger, are entirely consumed within the bounds. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.27.1) 

After the glory of the ancient theatre, it feels like something of a contrast to step into the quiet realm of the sanctuary of the God of Healing. This was a place that was famous around the ancient world for the miracles of health and healing that occurred there.

But perhaps the contrast is not so great? After all, Asklepios was the son of Apollo – an interesting union of healing and art – and it could be argued that the experiences one had in the theatre and the sanctuary were both transformative and healing.

Toward the back of the sanctuary there is a small, but wonderful, site museum that is well worth a visit for the collection of architectural and everyday artifacts. 

The vestibule contains cabinets filled with oil lamps, containers and phials that were used for medicines and ointments within the sanctuary, as well as surgical implements and votive offerings.

Medical Instruments in the Epidaurus museum

Above the cabinets and into the main room of the museum, there are reliefs and cornices from the temple of Asklepios decorated with lion heads, acanthus and meander designs, many of which still have the original paint on them.

However, in the first part of the museum are some plain-looking stele that are covered in inscriptions recording the remedies given at Epidaurus, and the miracles of healing at the sanctuary in ancient times. These inscriptions are where much of our knowledge of the sanctuary comes from.

Stele with accounts of healing at the sanctuary, as well as quotes of the Hymn to Apollo

In the main part of the museum, your eyes are drawn, once more, to the magnificent remains of the tholos and the temple of Asklepios – ornate Corinthian capitals, cornices decorated with lion heads, and the elaborately-carved roof sections of the temple’s cella, the inner sanctum. 

There are statues of Athena and Asklepios that had adorned various parts of the sanctuary, and the winged Nikes that stood high above pilgrims, gazing out from the corners of the roof of the temple of Artemis, the second largest temple of the sanctuary.

The Museum Interior

I wonder if people walking through the museum realize how beautiful the statues are, the meaning they held for those who came to the sanctuary in search of help?

After one cools off in the museum, it’s time to head for the sanctuary of Asklepios just north of the museum and theatre.

Every time I’ve visited, the sanctuary itself is usually completely empty.

It seems that most visitors head for the theatre alone, some to the museum afterward, but most do not want to tough it out among the ruins of one of the most famous sanctuaries in the ancient world.

The Sanctuary of Asklepios from the North

The Sanctuary of Asklepios lies on the Argolid plain, with Mt. Arachnaio and Mr. Titthion to the north. The former was said to have been a home of Zeus and Hera, and the latter, whose gentle slopes lead down to the plain, was said to have been where Asklepios was born.

To the south of the sanctuary is Mt. Kynortion, where there was a shrine to Apollo, Asklepios’ father. Farther to the south are the wooded slopes of Mt. Koryphaia, where the goddess Artemis is said to have wandered. 

This is a land of myth and legend, a world of peace and healing, green and mild, dotted with springs. The sanctuary was actually called ‘the sacred grove’.

Asklepios, as a god of healing, was worshiped at Epidaurus from the 5th century B.C. to the 4th century A.D. According to archaeologist Angeliki Charitsonidou, it was the sick who turned to Asklepios, people who had lost all hope of recovery – the blind, the lame, the paralyzed, the dumb, the wounded, the sterile – all of them wanting a miracle.

Asklepios

But who was Asklepios?

Some believed he learned medicine from the famous centaur, Cheiron, in Thessaly. Another tale from the Homeric age makes Asklepios a mortal man, a king of Thessaly, whose sons Machaon and Podaleirios fought in the Trojan War and learned medicine from their father.

Eventually, it came to be believed that Asklepios was a demigod, born of a union between Apollo and a mortal woman. His father was also a god of healing, and prophecy and healing, in the ancient world, went hand-in-hand. The snake was a prophetic creature, and a creature of healing, so it is no wonder this animal came to be associated with Asklepios and medicine.

At Epidaurus, snakes were regarded as sacred, as a daemonic force used in healing at the sanctuary. These small, tame, blondish snakes were so revered that Roman emperors would send for them when in need. Once again, Pausanias gives us some insight:

The serpents, including a peculiar kind of a yellowish colour, are considered sacred to Asklepios, and are tame with men. These are peculiar to Epidauria, and I have noticed that other lands have their peculiar animals. For in Libya only are to be found land crocodiles at least two cubits long; from India alone are brought, among other creatures, parrots. But the big snakes that grow to more than thirty cubits, such as are found in India and in Libya, are said by the Epidaurians not to be serpents, but some other kind of creature. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.28.1)

Now you know where this symbol comes from!

I’ll stick with the tame blond snakes, thank you very much!

The thing about Asklepios was that he was said to know the secret of death, that he had the ability to reverse it because he was born of his own mother’s death. Zeus, as king of the gods, believed that this went against the natural order, and so he killed Asklepios with a bolt of lightning.

There are no written records of medical interventions by the priests of Epidaurus in the early centuries of its existence. The healing that occurred was only through the appearance of the god himself. However, over time the priesthood of Epidaurus began to question patients about their ailments, and prescribe routines of healing or exercise that would carry out the instructions given to pilgrims by Asklepios in the all-important dreams, the enkoimesis, which they had in the abato of the sanctuary. 

It is quite a feeling to walk the grounds of the sanctuary at Epidaurus, to be in a place where people believed they had been touched or aided by a god, and actual miracles had occurred and were recorded. 

Faith and the Gods are a big part of ancient history, and cannot be separated from the everyday. I’ve always found that I get much more out of a site, a better connection, when I keep that in mind. You have to remove the goggles of hindsight and modern doubt to understand the ancient world and its people. 

From the museum you walk past the ruins of the hospice, or the ‘Great Lodge’, a massive square building that was 76 meters on each side, two-storied, and contained rooms around four courtyards. This is where later pilgrims and visitors to the sanctuary, and the games that were held in the stadium there, would stay.

Map of the Sanctuary (from the site guide book)

Without a map of what you are looking at, it’s difficult to pick out the various structures. Most of the remains are rubble with only the foundations visible. This sanctuary was packed with buildings, and apart from a few bath houses, a palaestra, a gymnasium, a Roman odeion, the stadium and a large stoa, there are some ruins that one is drawn to, notably the temples. 

The sanctuary of Asklepios has several temples the largest being dedicated to the God of Healing himself, within which there stood a large chryselephantine statue of Asklepios.

There were also temples to Artemis (the second largest on-site), Aphrodite, Themis, Apollo and Asklepios of Egypt (a Roman addition), and the Epidoteio which was a shrine to the divinities Hypnos (sleep), Oneiros (Dream), and Hygeia (Health). These latter divinities were key to the healing process at Epidaurus.

Ancient Epidaurus was a sacred escape where the mind, body, and soul could recuperate. It is a place of sunlight and heat, of fresh air and green trees set against a backdrop of mountains tinged with salt from the not-too-distant sea. Cicadas yammer on in a bucolic frenzy, and bees and butterflies wend their way among the fallen pieces of the ancient world as your feet crunch along on the gravel pathway, past the ruins of the palaestra, gymnasium, and odeion to an intersection in the sacred precinct of the sanctuary.

Reconstruction of the Temple of Asklepios’ south side (from site guide book)

Here you find the temple of Artemis to your right as you face the ruins of what was the magnificent temple of Asklepios to the north. You can see the foundations, the steps leading up. 

The image of Asklepios is, in size, half as big as the Olympian Zeus at Athens, and is made of ivory and gold. An inscription tells us that the artist was Thrasymedes, a Parian, son of Arignotus. The god is sitting on a seat grasping a staff; the other hand he is holding above the head of the serpent; there is also a figure of a dog lying by his side. On the seat are wrought in relief the exploits of Argive heroes, that of Bellerophon against the Chimaera, and Perseus, who has cut off the head of Medusa. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, Book 2.27.2)

It is interesting that in a place where dreams were part of healing, the images carved on the seat of Asklepios portray some of the greatest heroes fighting and defeating their own ‘monsters’.

How many people in need had walked, limped or crawled up those steps seeking the god’s favour.

On your left you see a large, flat area of worn marble that was once the great altar of Apollo where pilgrims made blood sacrifices to Apollo and Asklepios in the form of oxen or cockerels, or bloodless offerings like fruit, flowers, or money.

Remains of the Great Altar of Apollo

Standing there, you can imagine the scene – smoke wafting out of the surrounding temples with the strong smell of incense, the slow drip of blood down the sides of the great altar, the tender laying of herbs and flowers upon the white marble, all in the hopes of healing. 

As people would have stood at the great altar, they would have seen one of the key structures of the sanctuary beyond it, just to the west – the tholos.

The tholos was a round temple that was believed to be the dwelling place of Asklepios himself. It was here that, after a ritual purification with water from the sanctuary, that pilgrims underwent some sort of religious ordeal underground in the narrow corridors of a labyrinth that lay beneath the floor of the tholoscella, the inner sanctum.

Reconstruction of Epidaurian Tholos and Temple of Asklepios (photo reconstruction: CNN)

After their ritual ordeal, pilgrims would be led to the abato, a long rectangular building to the north of the tholos and temple of Asklepios.

The abato is where pilgrims’ souls would be tested by way of the enkoimesis, a curative dream that they had while spending the night in the abato.

Miracles happened in this place, and there are over 70 recorded inscriptions that have survived which detail some of them – mute children suddenly being able to speak, sterile women conceiving after their visit to sanctuary, a boy covered in blemishes that went away after carrying out the treatment given to him by Asklepios in a dream. There are many such stories that have survived, and probably many that we do not know of. 

Inside the partially restored Abato

As you stand in the abato, careful not to step on any snakes that may be hiding along the base of the walls, it’s a time to reflect on the examples of healing on the posted placard. It seemed that the common thread to all the dreams that patients had was that Asklepios visited them in their dreams and, either touched them, or prescribed a treatment which subsequently worked. 

Relief of Asklepios healing a dreamer

Sleep. Dream. Health.

When I think of those divinities who were also worshiped at Epidaurus, right alongside Asklepios, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched. In fact, standing there, in that place of peace and tranquility, it seems highly likely.

The people mentioned on the votive inscriptions – those who left vases, bronzes, statues, altars, buildings and fountains as thank offerings to the god and his sanctuary for the help they received – those people were real, as real as you and me. They confronted sickness, disease, and worry, just as we do.

Today, some people turn to their chosen god for help when they are in despair. Others turn to the medical professionals whom they hope have the skill and compassion to cure them.

At ancient Epidaurus, people could get help from both gods and skilled healers, each one dependent on and respectful of the other.

This place haunts me in a way. I always think about how special this place is, how the voices of Epidaurus, its sanctuary, and its great theatre, will never die or fade.

Indeed, just as Asklepios was said to have done, this is a place that defies death and time.

Remains of Temple of Asklepios

It is indeed fitting that the theatre and sanctuary go together, for both are healing experiences, forcing the mortal attendees to look inward, to delve into the darker depths of their selves to observe their own trials and tribulations so that they can manage their healing. 

Theatre is a transformative experience, and so it and the healing sanctuary both deserve their places beside each other, as well they do in the pages of Sincerity is a Goddess.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.

CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s information for the edition of your choice.

 

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New Video! – The Ancient Citadel of Tiryns

Greetings History-Lovers!

After a bit of a summer break, we’re back on the blog, and today we’ve got something exciting for you – a video premiere!

Some of you may have noticed on our social media accounts that we were fortunate enough to go back to Greece this summer. Amidst the pleasant chaos of visiting with family and friends we had not seen in over three years, we did manage to squeeze in a visit to a particularly wonderful archaeological site: Tiryns.

It had been about twenty years since the last time we visited this Mycenaean fortress of myth and legend, and so, armed with some new camera equipment (much gratitude to our Patreon patrons!), we were able to film a short tour of the citadel of ancient Tiryns!

We’re very excited to share this video with you.

It was wonderful to go back to this archaeological site, even on a day where it was 45 degrees celsius and the cicadas were so loud it was almost deafening!

Having already seen this site, we found that it was just as magical and awe-inspiring now as it was twenty years ago with the dry heat, the golden stones of the cyclopean walls, and the brilliant turquoise expanse of the Gulf of Argos before the distant mountains of the Peloponnese.

It was also good to see that the restoration work has come a very long way, allowing us access to areas we could not see previously, though the famed ‘East Galleria’ was sadly closed to our cameras.

The East Galleria

For those who would like to learn all about the history and mythology of Tiryns, be sure to check out our previous blog post Tiryns: Mycenaean Stronghold and Place of Legend.

It is also worth noting that Tiryns is also one of the major settings in Book 4 of the Mythologia series, The Reluctant Hero: The Story of Bellerophon and the Chimera, which you can check out HERE.

And so, without further ado, Eagles and Dragons Publishing presents our newest mini documentary The Ancient Citadel of Tiryns: A Short Tour.

We hope you enjoy it!

Be sure to subscribe to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel so that you don’t miss any new releases.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for watching.

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The Pyramid of Hellinikon

Greetings history-lovers!

I hope your Summer has been brilliant thus far.

For myself, I returned from Greece a couple of weeks ago and I am well into my bout of Aegean Blues.

But that’s ok, because I have a couple thousand pictures to gaze at and rich memories of historical outings to keep me inspired.

I hope you enjoyed the pictures on Instagram – if you haven’t seen them, you can do so by CLICKING HERE. I will, of course, continue to post more of them as time goes on.

Today however, I want to share with you my experience visiting a site I’ve longed to see for some time – the Pyramid of Hellinikon.

I’ve mentioned this site before, but now that I have actually been to it I want to give you my impressions before the sound of cicadas fades from my ears, and the memory of intense heat upon my skin cools into Canadian autumn.

In short, this site exceeded my expectations and fired my imagination.

It also nearly fired my physical body as we had arrived in Greece on the tail end of a heat wave that saw temperatures soar into the mid-forties Celsius!

So, after a night of wine and food beneath the stars at the southern tip of the Argolid peninsula, we set out early(ish) over the high peak of Mt. Didyma, down toward ancient Epidaurus, and across to that beautiful jewel-of-a-city, Nauplion.

Now, I know my way around the area pretty well, but let’s just say that finding the Pyramid of Hellinikon was not easy, even with Google Maps.

Our car meandered around the curve of the Argolic Gulf to Nea Keos, then to the far side where we turned northwest.

You might think that with a map, and seeing it on a screen, the place would be easy to find. However, the routes we had to follow were the shape of a Greek Key at best.

And it was HOT!

There was also very little signage, so we had to stop and ask a man who was out watering his grass. As an aside, I think he is the only man in Greece with a large patch of manicured lawn!

Anyway, the fellow simply pointed up the mountain in the direction we were already headed, so we continued on our path, climbing up, turning, climbing again in the shadow of terraces where orange and olive trees grew on the side of the mountain.

We came around a corner and there it was. A pyramid!

The site is just adjacent to a church in the village of Hellinikon. The funny thing is that it stands out like a sore thumb compared with the village houses and church, but it blends almost completely with the ancient landscape itself. By rights, we should have seen it from the road along the gulf below, it stands in such a prominent position.

I pulled the car into the shade of a single tree (hoping it could cool off in thirty-seven degrees in the shade), and got out.

I had to stop and stare at this place, for no pictures had prepared me for the sheer size and antiquity of it. I didn’t feel the sun or heat anymore. I only saw the pyramid, and at the back of my mind the words of Pausanias crept in…

On the way from Argos to Epidauria there is on the right a building made very like a pyramid, and on it in relief are wrought shields of the Argive shape. Here took place a fight for the throne between Proetus and Acrisius; the contest, they say, ended in a draw, and a reconciliation resulted afterwards, as neither could gain a decisive victory. The story is that they and their hosts were armed with shields, which were first used in this battle. For those that fell on either side was built here a common tomb, as they were fellow citizens and kinsmen. (Pausanias; Description of Greece 2.25)

If what Pausanias, writing in the second century A.D., said was true, then I was standing before a pretty well-intact monument of the Greek Heroic Age.

Even now, it sends shivers down my spine…

According to Pausanias, who wrote many hundreds of years later, this pyramid was believed to be a tomb or monument to the fallen Argive soldiers in the opposing armies of Proetus and Acrisius.

Now, Proetus and Acrisius were brothers, sons of Abas and Aglaea, and mythical kings of Argos. Proetus was king first but after many battles with Acrisius, and subsequent losses, went into exile. Acrisius became King of Argos, and this is the same Acrisius who banished his own daughter, Danae, to the sea, along with her infant son – you guessed it! – Perseus.

Acrisius putting Danae and the baby Perseus into the box before throwing them into the sea

In truth, nobody is really certain of the age of this pyramid. There is no exact date for the battle between the legendary kings of Argos, Proetus and Acrisius. Another battle mentioned in the sources, in which a large number of Argive soldiers died, apparently took place in c.669 B.C.

It seems that as far as history and sources, the evidence is pretty misty. This is when archaeology and dating can help us a little.

From what I’ve read, the dating of the Hellinikon pyramid is highly controversial. On the one side we have the legend mentioned by Pausanias. Then, in 1937, excavations were undertaken by the American School at Athens in which they found pottery ranging from the proto-Helladic period to the Roman period. This shows the site was in use for some time, but what about dating?

A look at Thermoluminescence dating

There is a method of dating called thermoluminescence dating, and this was carried out on the pyramid of Hellinikon. Without going into too much detail about this, this method of dating measures the accumulated radiation in objects or sediment.

The team that carried this out, in addition to geophysical surveys, excavations, and a study of the masonry of the pyramid, dates the Hellinikon to the period of about 2000-2500 B.C.

That’s also about contemporary with the pyramids on the Giza plateau. It also falls more or less in the broad period of the Greek Heroic Age.

But this dating method has been highly criticized as inaccurate and sloppy, with one camp of academics taking shots at the group that undertook the study of the pyramid. Other groups believe the style of masonry sets the Hellinikon pyramid in the Classical period.

When I arrived at the site, however, I wasn’t so much concerned with academic theories or arguments. I was just captivated.

In Greece, history and mythology have a way of coming to life unlike anywhere else I’ve been. Perhaps it’s the remoteness of the sites, the landscape that has changed little since ancient times, or the fact that sites such as this are not encased, guarded or protected (for better or worse).

As I stood before the slanted cyclopean walls of this ancient structure I wondered not about the age of the structure, but more of its use. There are a very few pyramids in this part of Greece, and this one is the best preserved.

But what was it for?

I remembered reading that it was either a tomb or monument, as Pausanias suggests, or a sort of guardhouse.

Plain of Argos toward the Argolic Gulf as seen from the Pyramid

I opened the gate of the rusty fence surrounding the pyramid and approached, scanning the rocks and shrubs for any snakes or scorpions before pressing on.

Maybe it was my overactive writer’s imagination, but this place seemed to be pervaded by a deep thrumming, as if an ancient drum were being beaten in the earth below. I wondered if the shades of the fallen Argive soldiers might still dwell in that place. Had their ashes been placed within?

I wandered around to the back which faced the plain of Argos far below and found that there was a doorway, an arched gallery leading into the pyramid, not unlike the galleria at ancient Tyrins.

First I decided to explore the outside, to get a better feel of the place before heading in.

It hit me as I turned around to see the view from the pyramid…

The entire plain of Argos was clearly visible from the pyramid! You could see every approach – from the South along the sea, from between the mountains to the southwest, from the North toward Argos itself, from the mound of ancient Tyrins to the East, and from the other side of the Argolic Gulf and Nauplio to the southeast.

Then I thought of the other use of this place as a guardhouse. It was perfect. The pyramid blended perfectly into the landscape when ‘seen’ from far below, and it provided a perfect view of the surrounding area, a place from which to spot any threat to Argos itself. Also, I wondered if the shape was better suited to that high and no doubt lonely, windswept place in Winter.

In truth, I can’t be sure either way. Was it a tomb or monument, or was it a guardhouse? Both uses have merits.

After looking around, I turned and went in.

From the rubble strewn about, and the discolouration of the stone around the entrance, it did seem like the pyramid had been sealed at one point, otherwise, one of the corners would have been flat.

I pictured a procession of priests or warriors carrying the urns containing the remains of their fallen comrades into the pyramid beneath the peaked gallery, or a soldier finishing his shift on watch outside and heading back into the pyramid to sleep or eat while another took over outside to watch the valley.

Door frame between the gallery and main chamber of the pyramid

There was a high step at the end of the gallery, and then a door frame with grooves for hinges. I stood on this and looked down into a large square room.

This inner room of the pyramid was in good condition, and free of litter left by modern visitors. There were no stone shelves upon the cyclopean walls, just cracks and the odd, occasional circle cut into the stone. Below the door, there appeared to be a sort of broken basin or drain, but it was difficult to tell.

Standing inside the main chamber of the Hellinikon Pyramid

I stood in the middle of the room and turned around, noticing that it was much cooler and quieter inside the stone walls even though the roof is gone and it’s open to the sky.

After looking around and taking more photos, I made my way back outside to look at those wonderful walls once more and take in the view from that commanding position.

I stood there beneath the full heat of Helios’ orb in the heavens, the cicadas having reached fever pitch now, and lizards skittering away at my footfalls to hide in the shadowy cracks of rubble from the pyramid.

I had never been to a place like this before, and I doubt that I will again, for the Pyramid of Hellinikon is truly unique. True, it’s nowhere near as grand as other pyramids, but it made me feel directly linked to that ancient land and the events that had (or may have) taken place there.

As I took one last look from the wall of the pyramid to the valley, the roads disappeared far below and the air was filled with the sounds of battle, of warriors in bronze and leather, the charge of horses and cry of eagles.

You can’t help but see the past through romantic lenses in a place like this, and that’s ok. It makes it exciting.

I didn’t know if the shades of dead Argives were standing beside me then, but I do know that while at the Pyramid of Hellinikon, I did not feel alone.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little tour of the Pyramid of Hellinikon. If you ever find yourself near Argos or Nauplio, you should definitely check it out.

If you want to see the rough video clips I took on the site, I’ve put them all together below in a short YouTube video…

In the comments below, be sure to share your thoughts on this pyramid. Was it a guardhouse, a tomb or war memorial, or was it something else?

Thank you for reading!

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End of a Summer Odyssey

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Greetings readers and fellow history-lovers.

Well, I’m back from my adventures across the sea, and I had an amazing, blessed time.

I tried to keep you all up-to-date via the Instagram feed, but my Peloponnesian connectivity was a bit dodgy.

Needless to say, I’ve got a tonne of pictures and some video which I’ll be sharing with you over the coming months.

The ancient theatre of Epidaurus

The ancient theatre of Epidaurus

I didn’t get to all the sites I wanted to see, but I did manage to visit the ancient theatre and agora of Argos, which I’ve wanted to see for years. I also made return visits to the theatre of Epidaurus, as well as the Sanctuary of Asclepios there. In Athens, I made a return visit to the Acropolis, and the new museum which was amazing.

Feeling good after lunch by the sea

Feeling good after lunch by the sea

Normally, I would have taken in many more sites, but this trip was more about family and friends for me. That said, just driving across the landscape in Greece, or swimming in the turquoise sea, is not only inspiring, it’s also a form of research. This ancient landscape, especially in the Peloponnese, remains relatively unchanged, from the incredible light and colour, to the flocks of goats and sheep bounding up mountainsides, to the whirring of cicadas in the dry, pine-scented heat. You step back in time in rural Greece.

The Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens, as seen from the Acropolis

The Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens, as seen from the Acropolis

 

I’ll share my experiences of the sites and more with you in future blog posts.

As for the book I had planned on finishing, well… let’s just say that the goal I had set myself was unrealistic. I managed to finish about a third of Heart of Fire, and I’m happy with that. Here’s why:

For the first half of the trip, I was getting up at about 7 am every morning to write outside for a couple of hours, but, as the ‘schedule’ began to fill with visits from dear friends and family I hadn’t seen in a long time, it became harder to squeeze in the writing time. Worse, I began to stress about getting that writing time!

Theatre and agora of ancient Argos

Theatre and agora of ancient Argos

That’s when I had an epiphany.

I realized that my vacation was slipping by, and that I was wasting my precious time worrying and not relaxing. After all, isn’t that what vacations are for?

I also remembered that, in the past, I wasn’t trying to squeeze in writing while on vacation. I was always absorbing the history, the sights, the smells, and the feel of the world around me.

The Wine-Dark Sea

The Wine-Dark Sea

The writing was always something that came afterward, when I was missing the places I had been to, reviewing my mental tapes of the entire odyssey. I forgot that I would have an acute case of the ‘Aegean Blues’ after my trip, and that this would be something I could use well after the fact.

So, about half-way through my trip, I stopped worrying and began to absorb and enjoy much more. I wrote when I could, but I just let it go if the day was not conducive to it – plenty of time to write afterward.

Detail of the Erectheion on the Acropolis of Athens

Detail of the Erectheion on the Acropolis of Athens

I’m happy with what I’ve written of Heart of Fire so far, though as often happens when writing historical fiction, there are a few research gaps I need to fill in. That’s fine, as it keeps me immersed in the period.

This was a wonderful holiday and it reminded me what a lovely country Greece is, the land, the sea, the history, the people. I miss it already, and I can’t wait to go back.

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Sunset in the Olive Grove

I’m struggling now, back in my cubicle. Honestly, who wouldn’t? But I’m writing full speed ahead.

On Friday, I finished the first draft of an Eagles and Dragons series prequel novel which I have kept secret till now (more on that to come!). It’s called A Dragon among the Eagles.

Now, I’m going to stay put in the year 396 B.C. and Heart of Fire, until the story is completed.

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That’s the update for now.

Thanks for following along, and thank you for reading!

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Ancient Everyday – Mirror Mirror

Woman using mirror

I thought I would try a new series of blog posts looking briefly at everyday items in the ancient world.

Historical fiction is often about great battles, political events, and large-than-life characters.

However, one of the things that anchors these stories more firmly in the past are the everyday items that decorate the homes of the characters around whom the stories revolve, or the tools they use without a passing thought.

We might not notice these items ourselves, as readers, but trust me, if they were missing you would get the impression that the story was not quite authentic, or that it was lacking something you couldn’t put your finger on.

I was going through some photos I had taken the other day and saw this one of some Etruscan mirrors in the display cabinet at the Royal Ontario Museum.

Roman and Etruscan polished bronze mirrors at the Royal Ontario Museum

Etruscan polished bronze mirrors at the Royal Ontario Museum

Today, mirrors are things that we definitely take for granted, though I bet we all glance in them a few times a day.

The first mirrors were probably calm pools of water into which people could gaze at their reflections, or crude vessels filled with water. These are primitive, but they are still mirrors.

Polished stone mirror

Polished stone mirror

The earliest man-made mirrors appear to have been made of volcanic glass, or obsidian, and examples of these have been found in Anatolia which date to about 6000 B.C.

Obsidian Mirror from Anatolia

Obsidian Mirror from Anatolia

Polished copper mirrors have been found in Mesopotamia which date to about 4000 B.C., and some in Egypt which date to roughly 3000 B.C.

Egyptian Mirror

Egyptian Mirror

Dating to around 2000 B.C. there are examples of polished stone mirrors from Central and South America, and bronze mirrors from China dating to the same period.

During the ancient Greek and Roman period, polished bronze mirrors such as those pictured above seem to have been the norm, though these were not something that would have been possessed by the lower classes. Mirrors were probably more of a luxury item, especially the ornate ones. There is also mention of metal-coated mirrors, or glass mirrors backed with gold during the Roman period.

Ancient Greek Mirror

Ancient Greek Mirror

Mirrors such as these have been found among grave goods, indicating that they were, in some cases, prized possessions of the deceased.

When I see these more or less unassuming artifacts, it always makes me wonder who held this mirror, and what did they see, or think, or feel when they saw their own image staring back at them.

This is one of the things I love about archaeology and storytelling.

Every artifact has a human story behind it.

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