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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 tholos’ cella, 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 Premiere! – Roman Florence: A Short Walking Tour

Salvete Romanophiles!

Today we’re excited to share a brand new mini documentary with you.

Most of us know the city of Florence as the birthplace of the Renaissance, an age that was the genesis for some of the greatest works of art in human history.

It really is one of the most beautiful, exciting and inspiring cities in the world!

This past May, I had the chance to go back to Florence after twenty years and it was, as expected, an absolute dream.

However, this time, we were seeing it from a different perspective…a more ancient perspective.

Did you know that Florence actually has Roman origins, and that it was established by Julius Caesar around 59 B.C.?

It’s true! You can read all about the Roman origins of Florence or, rather, Florentia, in the blog post Florentia: The Roman Origins of Florence by CLICKING HERE.

Though many of the Roman ruins of Florence were still closed due to the pandemic when we were there, we were still able to walk about what was the legionary fortress and the ghostly shadow of the colonia of Florentia beneath our feet.

We do hope you enjoy this latest video Roman Florence: A Short Walking Tour…

Be sure to subscribe to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel so you don’t miss any more videos about history, archaeology, Greek and Roman Mythology and more.

Thank you for watching, and thank you for reading!

 

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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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Revisiting the Etruscan Tomb of Montecalvario

It is no secret that one of my favourite places in the world is Tuscany. There are many reasons for this, including the pace of life, the wine, the food, the people and, of course, the idyllic countryside.

There is also the history and archaeology.

Over the years I have dearly missed Tuscany, especially in the dark days of a long, Canadian winter. I’ve often found myself longing for its rolling hills and spear-thrusting cypresses in a world exploding with colour and light.

This land has been a big part of my life, and the setting for many of my books.

Recently, I was blessed enough to be able to go back to Tuscany after twenty years away, and I was reminded once more why I love it so.

In this blog post, I want to share a bit about my return visit to one site in particular: the Etruscan tomb of Montecalvario.

One of the four entrances to the tomb of Montecalvario

For fans of the Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series, this particular tomb was the inspiration for Metellus family tomb which plays such an important and mysterious role in the books.

The first time I visited this archaeological site, hidden away on a lonely road outside of Castellina in Chianti, I knew right away that I wanted to use it in the novels.

Little did I know, how much of an inspiration it would be!

Adam going into the Etruscan tomb at Castellina in Chianti 20 years ago!

Before I get into my return visit, let’s briefly discuss the site.

As many of you know, Tuscany, or rather Etruria, is named for the Etruscans, the ancient people who lived and ruled there long before the Romans dominated the Italian mainland. I won’t go into the history of the Etruscan here, but you can read the full blog post entitled The Elusive Etruscans for a brief history of that fascinating people.

Tuscany is full of Etruscan archaeological sites that you can explore, including countless tombs, large and small.

The tomb of Montecalvario is one of them.

It is located in the province of Siena, on the outskirts of Castellina in Chianti, one of the main towns of the Chianti Classico wine region, on the road between Poggibonsi and Radda, the latter being the heart of Chianti Classico.

Chianti Classico region with Castellina in Chianti and Montecalvario in the top left corner (from site interpretation)

The hill of Montecalvario is actually named for a Christian chapel that had been built on top of the hill in the Middle Ages which was the last stop on the Via Crucis, or the ‘Way of the Cross’, the ‘Mount of Calvary’ being the site of Christ’s cruxifixction, but also the final stop for pilgrims along this particular trail.

The chapel is gone now, the remains of this majestic tomb visible once more.

The hill under which the tomb is located is more than fifty meters wide, and was actually discovered by accident in the early 19th century.

Historic photo of discovery of tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

What was revealed was an imposing Etruscan funerary monument made up of four chambers aligned with the cardinal directions. Each of the main burial chambers was reached by its own corridor or dromos (Greek for ‘road’) which was flanked by other, small rooms, with the South and West tombs having a more complex, three-chamber layout.

Layout of the tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

Archaeologists believed the tomb had already been looted by the time it was discovered, but the robbers did not get everything. There were fragments of gold, bronze, iron, bone and ivory scattered about, believed to have been from caskets or urns that had been buried there. In addition, there were the remnants of metal objects, including parts from two chariots and sheets with decorated reliefs on wood panels, also thought to be from the chariots.

Recreated chariot using finds from the tomb (from site interpretation)

Due to the monumental size of this tomb, and the hint of grave goods that the archaeological finds provide, it is believed that this may have been a princely tomb for members of the ruling families of this region around the seventh and sixth centuries B.C.

Artist Impression of Tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

So what was it like to return to this land, this place, after twenty years, after writing about it and imagining it many times over so that it took on a life of its own in my fiction?

It was like walking through a dream.

We had set out early that morning from our agriturismo accommodation south of Siena (under which was an Etruscan tomb!) to drive over the forested hills to the soaring Etruscan fortress town of Volterra, to the southwest of San Gimignano. It was a long, beautiful drive over winding roads across the Tuscan landscape, but the view from Volterra’s heights were well worth it.

View from the heights of the Etruscan fortress of Volterra

If you ever go to Tuscany, do so in the Spring when the weather is not too hot and the landscape is supremely green and dotted with myriad brilliant poppies bobbing their delicate heads. It is a world bursting with life when Springtime asserts itself for a few weeks before the world turns dry and brown.

From Volterra, we set out on the winding road through the Chianti region, that rich and fertile land over which Florence and Siena fought so viciously during the Middle Ages.

When one thinks of Tuscany, it is difficult not to think of rolling, grassy hills, of lanes and roads dotted with sentry cypresses, but when you come to the Chianti Classico region, you are met with an often steep and mountainous terrain covered in forests where boar and deer roam, and between the hills are smaller valleys in which ancient vines are grown alongside groves of olive.

A view of the Chianti hills

I had forgotten how thickly-forested Tuscany could be, and I was happy to be reminded as we drove past the many-towered settlement of San Gimignano in search of Castellina in Chianti and the tomb that had been such an inspiration years before.

As we drove into the Chianti Classico region in search of the tomb, the sky turned dark and a storm threatened us with black clouds and flashes of angry lightning in every direction.

It was quite a change from the hot and sunny heights of Volterra.

From the fortress town of Monteriggioni, we headed northwest through the storm to Castellina in Chianti, passing the headquarters of wineries whose names were warm and familiar to us, even in Canada.

At last, with a pause in the rain, we arrived in Castellina in Chianti, searching for signs to the tomb that seemed to elude even our car’s GPS and Siri herself.

Castellina in Chianti with the Medieval tower to the right.

After taking the wrong road, and having to turn back, we finally arrived at the small parking lot for the tomb of Montecalvario, located on a hill opposite the small 14th century castle from which the town gets its name.

There was no one else around when we parked and began the short walk up the road to the tomb’s entrance. The sky was still dark in places, and a chorus of thunder continued to rumble in the background.

I felt strange walking up the path to the tomb, almost like my character, Lucius Metellus Anguis, when he returns to the family estate after many years away.

Watch out for snakes! Adam heading into the tomb…

Make no mistake… This Tuscan experience is far different from the Renaissance grandeur of Florence. In the countryside, you step back in time. Beyond the occasional passing car on the road below, all I could hear was the distant thunder, the crunch of my boots on the path, birdsong and the beating of my heart.

As I did years before, I wondered again about the people who had built this tomb high on a hill, about the rituals they might have performed for the dead. If you block out the sound of cars, you can almost hear weeping or prayers to the gods on the air.

I spent more time exploring and documenting the tomb of Montecalvario this time. I headed farther into the tomb than I had dared previously, trying to ignore the fact that snakes could have been hiding within (there weren’t any that I could see, thankfully!).

One of the inner chambers

While in the tomb, I was reminded of the fiction I have created around this place, and it came to life in my mind as though it had all really occurred there.

That was, admittedly, a very strange feeling, and one that made me somewhat melancholy. But such is the way of things when you visit realms of the dead. There is a sadness, a thick nostalgia in the air, and I felt both of those acutely as I roamed about the Metellus family tomb of my books.

The largest of the inner chambers

After absorbing the site, and taking all of the pictures and video I had planned on taking, it was time to leave that cypress-crowned tumulus.

I walked back down the long path with an occasional backward glance over my shoulder as if bidding farewell to a friend I did not know if I would see again.

Then, it was out of site, and the sky cleared a little over the Tuscan hills as we got back in our modern chariot to wend our way through that ancient land to Radda, our next stop along the way.

It was good to revisit the tomb of Montecalvario after so many years and, despite the myriad joys of our wondrous, ten-day Tuscan interlude, reconnecting with this inspiring place was certainly one of the highlights.

Thank you for reading.

Standing at the top of the tomb.

If you enjoyed this post, you will definitely want to check out the mini-documentary I filmed at this archaeological site of Montecalvario. Just click the YouTube video below on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel to watch it.

For those of you who are interested in starting the #1 best selling Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series, you can get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for FREE by clicking HERE. The tomb of Montecalvario figures largely in the book.

We hope you enjoy the book and the video, The Etruscan Tomb of Montecalvario: A Short Tour below:

 

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Agora – A Visit to the Heart of Ancient Athens

Greetings readers and history-lovers!

It’s been a brilliant summer, but after some time off, new adventures, and a lot more writing, we’re back on with the blog.

It’s going to be a busy fall this year with some very exciting announcements coming up soon, so if you are not a mailing list subscriber, you should sign-up now so you don’t miss anything.

If you were following along on the Instagram feed, you’ll know that I was in Greece visiting with family for about five scorching weeks.

Normally, when we go back to Greece, we visit many archaeological sites, but this time, it was more about family and refilling the creative well. Besides, the days were so hot that it was bordering on dangerous. I can still feel the burning, crisping sensation on my arms!

Pegasus constellation as seen through ‘Star Walk’ app

It was wonderful to hear and see that symphony of Greek summer – the gentle lap of water on pebbled beaches, brilliant sunrises that roused the chorus of cicadas, wine-filled sunsets watching the chariot of the sun disappear into the West, and night skies filled with legendary constellations – every day it was different and awe-inspiring.

I especially enjoyed the sweet scent of pine and wild thyme in the heat of day as I stared out the sky and sea, a world in myriad shades of blue…

But the historian in me would think it blasphemous to be in Greece and not visit at least one archaeological site. And so, after my seaside idyll in the Argolid peninsula, during my last couple of days in Athens, I made my way to the heart of the city to a site I had not visited in some years – the ancient agora of Athens.

Before I tell you what it felt like to return to this ancient place, here is a bit of history for those of you who are not familiar with it.

The agora has been the beating heart of ancient Athens since at least the sixth century B.C. I don’t mean human activity, for that goes march farther back. I mean that the agora has been the social, commercial, entertainment, political and religious heart of Athens since then.

Almost everything of import in Athens’ history happened in and around the agora, including the birth of Democracy.

The Agora of ancient Athens with the Acropolis in the background

The area of the agora is actually known as ‘Thiseio’. Years ago, when I first visited the agora, I asked about this and discovered that this stems from the mistaken belief that the intact temple of Hephaestus overlooking the site was a temple dedicated to Theseus, the legendary king of Athens (yes, Theseus who escaped the labyrinth!).

As part of the Theseus connection, there is a legend (mentioned by Pausanias) that a great battle took place on the site of the agora between the Greeks and invading Amazons who had been angered that Antiope, the sister of Queen Hippolyta and Penthesilea, fell in love with the Athenian king and returned there with him.

Antiope was killed during the battle, but Theseus and the Greeks were victorious nonetheless. As an aside, this tragic tale is depicted in a brilliant novel by Steven Pressfield, Last of the Amazons.

Statue of Theseus at Thisieo metro station in Athens

The ancient agora lies in the shadow of the Acropolis of Athens with the Areopagus (Ares’ Rock), Athens’ oldest court, to the southwest. Fun Fact: the Areopagus is called that because that is where the Gods tried Ares for murder. Murder trials continued to take place there during Athens’ history.

The agora is also flanked by the hill of Kolonos Agoraios, dominated by the temple of Hephaestus to the west, and the reconstructed stoa of Attalos to the east.

The Panathenaic Way, the road that ran from the great Dipylon Gate of Athens to the Acropolis, ran directly through the agora, as did the road to the ancient port of Piraeus.

The archaeological site is packed with ruins. In fact, excavations under the Archaeological Society and the American School of Classical Studies have been ongoing here since 1931.

Map of ancient Agora of Athens

The ancient agora of Athens is a place of many layers, and it’s no wonder, for it was destroyed several times in its history. The Persians destroyed it during their invasion of 480 B.C., and the Romans under Sulla did their dirty work in 86 B.C.

Later, in A.D. 267, the Herulians (a Scythian people from around the Black Sea) sacked Athens, and then the Slavs did the same in A.D. 580, not to mention the damage that was done during the wars of independence and other conflicts.

The stones of the ancient agora had born witness to a lot before being buried beneath the modern neighbourhood of ‘Vrysaki’.

I’m not going to go into every single monument that is visible today in the agora. There arsenal of ancient Athens, various stoas, the altar of Zeus Agoraios, the altar of the twelve gods, the temple of Ares, the Odeion of Agrippa, the library, and the temple of Apollo Patroos are just a few of the ruins you can wander around.

Click here for a 360 view of the Agora

Like many archaeological sites in Greece for me, a visit to the ancient agora of Athens is something more to be felt.

After taking the subway to Monastiraki station in the heart of the flea market and Plaka tourist district, we made our way through the thick and sweaty crowds, along tavernas with misting fans to the entrance on the northern side of the agora.

It seems all the world still comes to the agora of Athens. I counted about nine different languages alone in the line to get in. After a few minutes, we had our tickets and walked through to a spot away from the milling masses of snap-happy tour groups to look up and see the shining beacon of the Acropolis and the creamy white structures of the Erechtheum, Propylaea, and the Parthenon. It always fills me with silent awe to look up at that view, and the Agora is one of the best places to admire it.

View of Acropolis from centre of Agora

To the far left, the Stoa of Attalos, where the museum is located, beckoned with its long shaded colonnades of cool marble, but we would leave that until last. Glancing up to my right, the sentry temple of Hephaestus upon the hill called to me, and so I began to make my way.

Thankfully, trees abound in the agora, so you can take your time and admire all there is to see from frequent pockets of shade brimming with cicada song.

I passed the site of the altar of the twelve gods and the overgrown ruins of the temple of Ares, unnoticed by most tourists, to stand before the imposing ruins of the Roman-build Odeion of Agrippa built in 15 B.C., and destroyed during the later Herulian attack. This spot is at the centre of the agora, and I stood there for a few minutes, gazing out from beneath the imposing statues of Tritons. 

One of the Tritons on the facade of the Roman Odeion of Agrippa

After a time pretending the murmur of tourists was the sound of ancient Athenians, I continued my walk to the altar of Zeus Agoraios, one of my favourite spots in the agora. How many offerings had been made there to the King of the Gods? The altar’s base is quite intact, and it stands in stony silence with the expanse of the agora before it, and the temple of Hephaestus and the ancient arsenal on the hill behind.

After watching most tourist by-pass Zeus’ altar as if it were just another pile of rocks, I turned around and looked up at the temple of Hephaestus, one of the most intact ancient temples I have ever seen.

Looking toward the temple of Hephaestus from the altar of Zeus

The climb up is not long, but in that heat, I passed pockets of visitors resting in the shade of trees on their way up.

I couldn’t wait, however, and pressed on along the narrow, rocky path to the top.

There is something about the design of an ancient temple that appeals to my senses. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps is it is the simple lines that give one a sense of peace and order, or the ancient belief that it was where one communed with that particular god? Maybe there is something to the golden mean that permeates every aspect of those ancient structures?

I don’t know for certain, but when I am in the presence of such a beautiful structure, I fall silent. The fact that that temple is so intact makes it even more powerful.

Looking at the interior of the temple of Hephaestus

I strolled around the perimeter of the temple, admiring the strength of its doric columns. When I reached the back, I stood peering inside, catching a glimpse of the ancient cella at its heart, so dark and quiet, cool in the middle of the inferno outside.

I had been to visit the temple before, years ago, but every time is like a first time in places like that. Our experiences change us between visits over the years. We notice new things, feel differently when we return, even though the sites themselves are frozen in time.

After admiring the temple, it was time to make our way back across the southern end of the agora toward the reconstructed stoa of Attalos. This route takes you back through the heart of the agora, along the length of the ruins of the middle stoa where you can see the rooms from which the ancient city was administered.

If you look up, you can see the Acropolis with even greater clarity, and the masses of tourists wending their way up like a flow of busy ants around a hill.

As I walked, there was much more to see, but the heat was intensifying. Some things would have to wait until the next visit.

The colonnade of the restored Stoa of Attalos

The stoa of Attalos, built in the second century B.C. by that King of Pergamon (159-138 B.C.), was busy with people taking refuge from the shade, talking, resting, shopping in the museum shop, and admiring the remnants of Athens’ great past. You could hear tour guides teaching their groups about this history of Athens, Greek visitors talking politics, and others taking in the view and discussing the next part of their journey in Greece. The scene, apart from the clothing and languages spoken, might not have been that different from two thousand years before.

As for me, I made my way into the small museum that is housed on the ground floor of the stoa. Don’t let the size of this museum fool you. It houses a wonderful collection of artifacts from the full range of Athenian history in the agora from early Bronze Age tombs, through the Geometric period, the Classical period, and into the Hellenistic and Roman ages.

One of my favourite pieces was a three-handled bowl of which I had recently bought a wonderful replica from our friends at the Ceramotechnica Xipolias in ancient Epidaurus. 

Here are a few of the wonderful artifacts that are in the museum of the ancient Agora:

A Spartan hoplon shield in the museum

Bronze spear heads and horse bits

Ostraka with the name of ‘Themistocles’, the great Athenian general, on them

Souvlaki anyone? See this small oven and kebab sticks! People also came to eat in the Agora.

After we were finished in the museum, there was one more surprise left in the stoa. If you go to the north or south end of the stoa you will see stairs leading to the second level.

We snaked our way up the stairs on the north end to find not only a wonderful view of the agora, but also, behind walls of glass, a long row of wooden shelves where myriad artifacts are stored. It was unbelievable to stand on the other side of the glass looking into the shadowed interior to see ancient black and red vases and kraters, kylixes and more. There were Mycenaean artifacts too, and all of it just sitting there silent witnesses to the ages gone past.

Oh, just some ancient pottery tucked away on a shelf.

As we finished in the stoa and museum, we decided it was time to go. We made our way along a wall of broken monuments, displayed like ornaments in the garden of some antiquarian, each one with a story to tell of Athens’ past, each one whispering as I walked by.

I had to pull myself away from those voices, to tell them that I would see them again some day.

The day was wearing on, and there was more to do, more people to see before the end of my summer odyssey. But, I had to stand at the gates of the ancient Agora one more time and look out over the ruins of Athens’ history and up to the hopeful beacon of the Acropolis.

It is never easy to say goodbye to that ancient place, but I did so with a pang before turning and disappearing into the crowded market streets of Monastiraki and the Plaka, a part of me still wandering the Agora, haunted by history.

Finishing things off with some shopping in the Plaka.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this short post on the agora of ancient Athens. If you did, you might also enjoy some previous posts on visits to Delphi, Delos, Tiryns, Epidaurus, Nemea, Eleusis, the temple of Apollo at Bassae, and Olympia.

Be sure to tune in next week as we step into the Hellenistic age with a guest post from historical fiction author Zenobia Neil.

Thank you for reading.

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Pompeii – A Brief Introduction with Archaeologist, Raven Todd DaSilva

Hello again, ancient history-lovers!

Way back in the dark days of February, archaeologist Raven Todd DaSilva came to speak to us about gladiators and the famous thumbs-up gesture that we associate with that ancient blood sport. If you missed that, you can check it out HERE.

I’m thrilled to say that Raven is back on the blog with us this week for a brief introduction to one of the great disasters of the Roman world: the destruction of Pompeii.

Raven visited the archaeological site of Pompeii recently and is here to share a bit of the history with us, as well as some new theories around dating, as well as one of her brilliant videos!

So, ready as ever to get digging and get dirty, here’s Raven Todd DaSilva…

Pompeii, a Brief Introduction

By: Raven Todd DaSilva

On an unassuming day in 79 CE, the long-dormant Mount Vesuvius erupted. For three days, volcanic ash and rock rained down on the surrounding area, completely devastating the settlements around it. Most famously- the city of Pompeii.

Founded in the 6th century BCE along the Sarno river, Pompeii originated as a local settlement in Campania. The rich volcanic soil made it favourable for agricultural activity. In the 5th century BCE, the Samnites entered the area, while the 4th century BCE saw the beginning of Roman influence on the region. Pompeii began to flourish under this regime with massive building projects. It became a major port on the Bay of Naples, leading to its “golden age” in the 2nd century BCE. Pompeii was later turned into a seaside resort in 81 BCE. An earthquake damaged many of the buildings in 62 CE, which led to significant economic decline. By the time of the eruption, many of the grand villas built in the 2nd century BCE were converted for public use, leaving the city frozen in time during a period when its glory days were behind it.

Of course, Pompeii gets its fame from the devastating catastrophe because of the rare view it gives us regarding daily life at that time. As the eruption took the city’s inhabitants by surprise, they were not able to properly pack up and evacuate the area, leaving archaeologists with invaluable evidence as to how people really lived in the first century CE.

Not only are we fortunate enough to have the physical site of Pompeii, we also have a primary document describing the eruption of Vesuvius and the immediate aftermath. Pliny the Younger described the events that happened to his uncle, Pliny the Elder, who died assisting refugees onto the warships he was overseeing. This account is also where the infamous quote “Fortune favours the brave” originated. We also have Pliny’s own personal account from Misenum (about 30km away).

Pliny the Younger

The eruption has been described by Pliny the Younger as:

…a pine tree, for it shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread itself out at the top into a sort of branches; occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which decreased as it advanced upwards, or the cloud itself being pressed back again by its own weight, expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted, according as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders.(Letter LXV – To Cornelius Tacitus)

Once the danger of this eruption was realised, people began to evacuate hurriedly, with many people successfully fleeing. Pliny described those escaping as having “pillows tied upon their heads with napkins; and this was their whole defence against the storm of stones that fell around them” (Letter LXV). The stones thrust from the volcano were deadly, crashing through roofs, collapsing buildings and crushing those trying to take refuge under stairs and in cellars. Others, like Pliny the Elder, choked to death on the air as it filled with ash and noxious sulfurous gas. It is believed that 30,000 people died from the eruption.

The traditional date of the eruption is August 24th, as reported by Pliny the Younger, but it has come under scrutiny as further scientific evidence has come to light. Even as early as 1797, the archaeologist Carlo Maria Rosini questioned the date. Rosini reasoned that, as fruits found preserved at the site, such as chestnuts, pomegranates, figs, raisins and pinecones, become ripe in the fall months, they would not have been ripe so early in August. Another study of the distribution of the wind-blown ash at Pompeii supports this theory further. Probably one of the most telling artefacts is a silver coin found that was struck after September 8th, AD 79. As we don’t have an original copy of Pliny’s manuscript, we can assume a typo had been made along the way.

After compiling all this new data, a new eruption date of October 24th, 79 AD has been suggested.

After the eruption, the city remained largely undisturbed until 1738 when Charles of Bourbon, the King of Naples dispatched a team of labourers to hunt for treasures to give to his queen, Maria Amalia Christine, who was enamoured by previously excavated Roman sculptures in the area of Mount Vesuvius. The city of Herculaneum was found first, with Pompeii excavations following it about ten years later.

Charles of Bourbon

Today, Pompeii is one of the most popular and well-known archaeological sites, with the longest continual excavation period in the world. With respect to the study of daily life of Rome, it is undeniably important due to the sheer amount of data available. Each year, thousands of visitors flock to Pompeii to walk along the large stone slabs of its roads, visit its iconic brothels, and marvel at the mosaics, wall paintings and body casts preserved by the volcanic ash.

Raven Todd DaSilva is working on her Master’s in art conservation at the University of Amsterdam. Having studied archaeology and ancient history, she started Dig It With Raven to make archaeology, history and conservation exciting and freely accessible to everyone. You can follow all her adventures on Facebook and Instagram @digitwithraven

Resources

Online Articles:

Kris Hirst, What 250 Years of Excavation Have Taught Us About Pompeii https://www.thoughtco.com/pompeii-archaeology-famous-roman-tragedy-167411

Mark Cartwright, Pompeii https://www.ancient.eu/pompeii/

Joshua Hammer, The Fall and Rise and Fall of Pompeii https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/fall-rise-fall-pompeii-180955732/

Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, Pompeii: Portents of Disaster http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/pompeii_portents_01.shtml

James Owens, Pompeii https://www.nationalgeographic.com/archaeology-and-history/archaeology/pompeii/

Wilhelmina Feemster Jashemski, Pompeii https://www.britannica.com/place/Pompeii

The Two Letters Written by Pliny the Younger about the Eruption of Vesuvius in 70 A.D. – http://www.pompeii.org.uk/s.php/tour-the-two-letters-written-by-pliny-the-elder-about-the-eruption-of-vesuvius-in-79-a-d-history-of-pompeii-en-238-s.htm

Books:

Beard, Mary (2008). Pompeii: The Life of a Roman Town. Profile Books. ISBN 978-1-86197-596-6

Butterworth, Alex; Laurence, Ray (2005). Pompeii: The Living City. St. Martin’s Press. ISBN 978-0-312-35585-2

Kraus, Theodor (1975). Pompeii and Herculaneum: The Living Cities of the Dead. H. N. Abrams. ISBN 9780810904187

As ever, I’d like to thank Raven for another fascinating post and video.

Pompeii is one of those topics that I never tire of, and the exciting thing is that more is being revealed all the time. It’s also one site that I have not yet had the chance to visit, so I really enjoyed learning a bit more.

And I’m definitely looking forward to that next collaboration and video, Raven!

If you haven’t already done so, be sure to check the Dig It with Raven website and subscribe to Raven’s YouTube channel so you can stay up-to-date on all the latest videos about archaeology, history and art conservation.

Cheers, and before you leave, here’s a fantastic time lapse video of Raven’s visit to Pompeii!

 

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The Colosseum: First Impressions and Edgar Allan Poe

We all have our memories of first impressions – of people, of feelings, of almost every activity we undertake or situation we encounter.

For me, the first impression of an historical site is always something that is seared onto the memory of my heart and mind. Some sites leave more of an impression while the memories of others linger for a short time before melting away to form part of my broader perception of a period or place.

Back in 2000, one such site that left a titanic, long-lasting impression upon me was the Colosseum in Rome.

I remember it vividly, walking along the thick paving stones of the via Sacra from the Forum Romanum, past the arch of Titus. I was busy talking with my wife when I looked up to find that most famous of Rome’s monuments staring down at me.

It literally stopped me in my tracks.

Prior to that, I had read much about Rome and the Colosseum, but nothing can really prepare you for the moment you come face-to-face with such a creation.

It reached to the sky, arch upon arch, dominating the entire area. The moment I looked upon it, I could hear the cheering and jeering of the crowds, the clang of gladii, and the roar of wild beasts.

This monument of stone and bloody memory came to life, no…exploded into life!…before my very eyes.

It was at that moment that many parts in my books Children of Apollo and Killing the Hydra began to take shape. In fact, my first visit to Rome to see the Colosseum, and indeed the vast ruins of the Forum Romanum and the Palatine Hill, helped me to truly understand the might and majesty of the Roman Empire.

I explored that ruin as much as I could from the outside to the interior corridors and sloping walls of the inside where upwards of 50,000 ancients once sat. I was ignorant of the masses of tourists, the myriad foreign languages being spoken, or the hucksters in cheap ‘Roman’ armour who charged unsuspecting tourists for a photo op while groping them.

It was the Colosseum that had us spell-bound.

It was a true wonder to me, and that first impression set me off on a journey into the past that has led me on many an adventure, both creative, cerebral and physical.

In a way, that first meeting made the world of ancient Rome my home.

Model of Ancient Rome

A couple of months ago, I was reminded of my first impression of the Colosseum when reading another work inspired by this magnificent relic of history.

I was reading from the works of that father of American Gothic poetry and literature, Edgar Allan Poe, and came across his poem The Coliseum published on October 26, 1833, in the Baltimore Saturday Visiter.

I hadn’t read the poem before. In truth, I didn’t even know about it.

Of course, I read it and, well, it made me realize that the Colosseum has likely left an impression on everyone across time who has come across it since the inaugural games of A.D. 80.

I’m not going to analyze the poem here, but rather leave you to read it for yourself and experience a first impression through the eyes of Edgar Allan Poe.

Edgar Allan Poe

I hope you enjoy…

The Coliseum

By Edgar Allan Poe

Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length- at length- after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!

Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now- I feel ye in your strength-
O spells more sure than e’er Judaean king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!

Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!
Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair
Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!
Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,
Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,
Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!

But stay! these walls- these ivy-clad arcades-
These moldering plinths- these sad and blackened shafts-
These vague entablatures- this crumbling frieze-
These shattered cornices- this wreck- this ruin-
These stones- alas! these grey stones- are they all-
All of the famed, and the colossal left
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?

“Not all”- the Echoes answer me- “not all!
Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever
From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,
As melody from Memnon to the Sun.
We rule the hearts of mightiest men- we rule
With a despotic sway all giant minds.
We are not impotent- we pallid stones.
Not all our power is gone- not all our fame-
Not all the magic of our high renown-
Not all the wonder that encircles us-
Not all the mysteries that in us lie-
Not all the memories that hang upon
And cling around about us as a garment,
Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.”

The Coloseum c.1870 (Wikimedia Commons)

Isn’t that wonderful?

If you have had the chance to visit the Colosseum yourself, please do tell us what your own first impressions of it were in the comments below.

Thank you for reading.

 

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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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Nunney Castle: A Somerset Fortress

On my recent journey through Devon and Somerset, I had the chance to revisit two of my favourite places – the Iron Age hill fort of South Cadbury Castle, and Tiverton Castle which we looked at last week.

This week I want to introduce you to a castle that is new to me – Nunney Castle in Somerset.

Unlike South Cadbury and Tiverton Castle, I had never been to Nunney Castle before. In fact, I had never heard of it until I was doing a bit of research for the trip and stumbled across a short listing in an old book of castles I have.

Somerset is not really known for its castles. Manor homes, Iron Age hill forts, and monasteries, yes, but not Medieval castles as most people imagine them to be.

That’s why I was so happy to find out about Nunney, and subsequently insert it on the itinerary after a visit to the small (smallest in England!) city of Wells where I used to work.

However, before I get into the specifics of my visit to Nunney Castle, we should, as is our habit here, look at a bit of the history of the site.

Artist reconstruction of Nunney Castle (English Heritage)

Nunney Castle was first built by the knight Sir John de la Mare (1320-1383) under a royal licence granted to him in 1373 by King Edward III.

You see, Sir John, like other knights of the time, was a veteran of the English forces fighting in France during the 100 Years War, and it was with the small fortune he had amassed there that he was able to pay for the building of Nunney Castle.

The Battle of Crecy – The Hundred Years War

He did rather well for himself, and after his service in the war, he became High Sheriff of Wiltshire in 1374, High Sheriff of Somerset and Dorset in 1377, and also attained the title ‘Knight of the Shire’ in both Wiltshire and Somerset. The latter was the formal title for members of parliament representing a county in the medieval Parliament of England.

The castle that Sir John built was an ideal stronghold for serious defence, in addition to being a symbol of his power in the area.

It was built on what is called a ‘four-lobed plan’ and encircled by a moat, with machicolations and battlements running around the top. On each of the four towers, there were conical rooftops. Some believe that the design of Nunney Castle was heavily influenced by French castles which Sir John would have encountered while fighting across the Channel.

It has been pointed out that the design of Nunney is similar to that of the Bastille in Paris, particularly the machicolations.

1790 drawing of the Bastille in Paris – you can certainly spot the similarities with Nunney Castle…

After 1560, Nunney Castle passed into the hands of another family when it was bought by Richard Prater, a rich Londoner and Catholic who allowed Nunney to be used as a refuge for fellow Catholics during the Civil War.

However, as with Tiverton Castle, it was besieged and ruined by the Parliamentarians during the war.

It wasn’t until about 1926 that Nunney Castle came under state guardianship and cleared of plants and rubble.

Gazing up into one of the four massive towers of Nunney Castle

I have to admit I was extremely curious about Nunney when we set out from Wells on a sunny, windswept day in Somerset.

Nunney is about fifteen miles south of Bath, and from Wells it was a fourteen mile drive, by way of Shepton Mallet.

This was a small corner of Somerset that was unfamiliar to me. The drive was lovely, the road weaving over hills, through farm and pasture land, and around clumps of forest. With puffs of white cloud racing across the blue, sunlit sky, there was a kind of odd light as we went. It was almost too bright and colourful!

When the sat nav voice told me to take a hard left and then a hard right, we found ourselves on a narrow country road. As ever, I hoped I wouldn’t meet a tractor head-on!

We continued on through the forest-flanked lane for a mile or two until we came to a tiny village. This was Nunney.

I expected to see the castle looming over the rooftops, but I saw no such thing. I drove farther into the village until we came to Castle Street and parked. Still no sign of the castle until I got out of the car, and took a few steps to the end of the short lane.

There it was, moat and all, jutting out of the village like a stone swamp monster.

The moat at the front of the castle where the drawbridge was located, now a permanent bridge for access to the ruins

Nunney Castle really is a beautiful piece of architecture, said to be ‘the most aesthetically pleasing castle in Somerset’.

And it’s true, though there aren’t that many medieval castles in Somerset. Still, I was impressed with the apparent strength of its walls and the sheer, squat size of it. It’s also quaint, though that may be due to the fact that it’s closely bordered by private homes that come almost to the edge of the moat.

Some villages have small parks or gardens in their midst, but Nunney has a castle! What a view out of your window as you have morning coffee!

Nunney Castle’s massive towers with machicolations

My eyes were drawn immediately to the moat, the black and green water a bit of a warning to those who might get too close. You certainly wouldn’t want to fall in there!

Once you cross the bridge, on the spot where the drawbridge would have been, you are even more struck by the high walls, the curve of the four large towers, and the remains of the castle’s various levels.

Ignoring the detritus of chips and candy no doubt left by bored local teens who hang out in there, I stepped into the middle of the ruins and looked up.

Remains of the large kitchen fireplace in Nunney Castle

It was as if the castle came alive then.

The fireplaces on the side walls began to crackle, and the voices of sentries upon the battlements snaked their way down the curving stairs of the towers. Somewhere above, the residents dined where pigeons now flutter back and forth from one tower to the other.

I was glad we had the place to ourselves, and I suspect that if any of you do visit Nunney Castle (did I mentioned there is no charge for entry?), you will find the same.

It’s quite special when you have an historic site to yourself.

I enjoyed exploring it slowly, taking photos and trying to imagine what it was like in its full vigour. This was a little difficult, surrounded as it was by the sleepy village homes, structures that were not there in the castle’s heyday when Sir John was bound to protect the villagers about his keep.

Now it’s as if the villagers’ homes protect the castle, huddled close about it, keeping it secret and safe.

After exploring the interior from the ground level, I went back outside and walked around the perimeter of the walls.

It was hard to imagine the Parliamentarians bombarding the castle in such a sleepy place; it’s easy to breathe calmly at Nunney Castle now.

I suspect it was not the same for Richard Prater, his family, or the Catholics who had taken refuge within when the cannon had been turned on these pale stone walls.

In all, the short visit to Nunney Castle was a real treat and I would recommend it if you are in Somerset and looking for a quiet break away from the busier tourist destinations.

It’s worth the drive to explore this little-known site in the heart of this beautiful county.

Thank you for reading.

Plan of Nunney Castle grounds (English Heritage)

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Top 10 Ways to get excited about History

Excited about History - Top 10

It’s no secret that I love history, and I suspect that if you are reading this blog or my books, you love history too.

This morning I was on my usual commute, herded into the cattle car, surrounded by myriad long faces, when I started to day dream. This time of year, I day dream a lot more, my mind clawing at the distant past, trying to find a way to immerse myself in the comfort of history.

What can I say? I’m a history geek through and through.

The truth is that when this hectic, modern world gets me down, I do indeed find solace in the past. I need to grasp at that thread in the labyrinth to get back to my place of balance.

So, I thought I would share some of the ways in which I connect with and get excited about history. I will do these things not only to immerse myself in history, but also to fire my creativity and imagination so that I am ready to get stuck into the next story.

Here are my Top 10:

Ouroboros-fist

#10 – Listen to Period Music

I always write to soundtrack music, but listening to music or interpretations of music from the ancient or medieval worlds is a different sort of experience.

While the music is playing, I may flip through a book, have a glass of wine, or just close my eyes and let my mind wander, imagining myself in an ancient agora, or walking the lonely halls of a castle.

There are a lot of great period music groups out there, one of my favourite medieval ones being the Ensemble Claude Gervaise, their album, Douce Dame Jolie in particular.

There are fewer ancient music groups, but lately I did come across a wonderful album called Musical Instruments of Ancient Greece by the Petros Tabouris Ensemble. I played this during a dinner in which we made some ancient dishes and it really added to the atmosphere. If you have access to Hoopla through your public library system, that is where I found it.

Musical Instruments of Ancient Greece - Petros Tabouris Ensemble

Musical Instruments of Ancient Greece – Petros Tabouris Ensemble

#9 – Maps

I love maps, and I use them frequently in my research and writing as they help me to better visualize the world and period in which I am working.

My favourite maps are the Ordnance Survey maps from Britain. This are military grade maps that give a wonderful level of detail, and the series of historical Ordnance Survey maps are the best for writing historical fiction, or simply exploring the past.

My go-to historical map is the Ordnance Survey map of Roman Britain. I used this a great deal in research in past years, but also when writing the upcoming Warriors of Epona (Eagles and Dragons Book III).

Some of my favourite Ordnance Survey Maps

Some of my favourite Ordnance Survey Maps

#8 – Primary Sources

When getting stuck into the past, you can only get so far on secondary sources, sources written by modern or later scholars about past ages.

If you really want to get a feel for a certain period in history, to hear things from the ‘horse’s mouth’ so to speak, then primary sources are key.

Most people are not able to read ancient Greek or Latin, so it’s lucky that almost everything is available in translation. Two series I like are the Loeb Classical Library, which is now available on-line, and the much more affordable Penguin classics range which you can find in most bookstores.

Both of these are fine and can really immerse you in the ancient and medieval worlds.

The problem with some classical or medieval texts is that they can go on sometimes, depending on the author.

I remember reading Froissart’s Chronicles on the Hundred Years War a while ago and being bored by the never-ending lists of nobles. So, for a modern reader, some of these sources can be a bit tedious. But not all of them are boring and, in fact, a great many are quite entertaining.

If you don’t want to pay for some of these primary sources, you can find a lot of them on the Project Gutenberg website, and the Perseus Digital Library.

Loeb Classical Library On-line

Loeb Classical Library On-line

#7 – Documentaries

I’ve written before about how I love to watch documentaries in a previous post called ‘Roaming the Past’.

There are so many great documentaries available on YouTube that with the touch of a couple buttons, you can be off on a grand adventure with some of the leading historians of the day.

The thing I like about documentaries is that they are the next best thing to actually going to a site. The presenters often go to places that are not accessible to the average person.

If they are well-done, documentaries are a wonderful way to unwind, to learn, and to escape into the past from the comfort of your own home.

I always get pumped about history after watching a good documentary!

Click here to watch one of my favourites from Michael Wood.

#6 – Big Non-Fiction Books

When it comes historical landscapes, ancient ruins, or castles, a picture definitely speaks a thousand words.

That’s why I love to sit down on a quiet Sunday morning, or after a stressful day at work, and peruse the large, full-colour pages of some of my favourite coffee table books.

I have several of these mighty tomes at home and they can always be relied upon to help me escape into history.

From a book on the Parthenon and ancient Athens, to ancient Rome, the castles of Britain, world archaeology, Egypt, and the travels of Alexander the Great, every time I heft one of these titans I’m guaranteed to get lost for a while in the best possible sense.

Some of my BIG BOOKS!

Some of my BIG BOOKS!

#5 – Visiting Museums

What better place to get in touch with different periods of history than in your local house of the Muses.

If you live in a big city, chances are you have access to a museum with a decent collection. Two of my favourites are the new Acropolis Museum in Athens, and the British Museum, entry to the latter being free!

You may also have a small, local history museum near you that could be of interest, so be sure to check it out.

Museums are a great way of connecting with people of the past, of getting close to the normal everyday objects that our ancestors used. These can add the texture to the greater historical picture we are imagining.

Having fun at the Trimontium Roman Legionary Museum. So much fun!

Having fun at the Trimontium Roman Legionary Museum. So much fun!

#4 – Living History Displays

When it comes to people dressed up in historical costume and swinging swords around, most of you may think of mad Renaissance festival goers with bad accents, and supremely laughable movies like The Knights of Badassdom or All’s Faire in Love (both are on Netflix).

These sorts of flicks can be fun, but they are not the living history displays I’m referring to.

If you want to really get into history, you should go and attend a display of one of the many living history, or re-enactor groups near you.

The people who take part in living history displays are not only die-hard history fans, but also serious researchers who have helped to further our knowledge of the past alongside our academic brethren.

Living history re-enactors use ancient and medieval methods and tools to create weapons and utensils, fabrics, horse-harness and all the other everyday implements of the past. They bring famous battles to life, and put on displays that show us how, for instance, Roman siege engines work.

A display by the Ermine Street Guard re-enactment group

A display by the Ermine Street Guard re-enactment group

For many people who have been bored by history through textbooks in school, living history re-enactments can be a welcome breath of fresh air that awakens a love of the past.

No matter what historical period you’re interested in, there is certainly a group of re-enactors that fits the bill. Ask around and see what is going on in your area, especially during the summer months.

Many of these groups put on displays at historic sites like Hadrian’s Wall. You can ask some questions, swing a sword, and maybe even try on some armour!

#3 – Watch Movies

Whenever any historical movie comes out, there is never any shortage of complaints on-line about the accuracy, or lack thereof, of the film.

And it is true that most historical movies do not depict the history exactly as it was. Of course not! They are telling a story and they have to work within the confines of their medium, and of their particular budget.

But I love watching movies that take place in an historical setting, even if it is rife with errors. It gets me excited about history. Period.

Robin Hood movie poster

I loved this movie!

I’ve said before that Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves was the movie that really turned me on to studying history. People laugh at me for that (and that’s ok!), but I say that that movie started me reading everything I could get my hands on about the 12th century, warfare, and the Middle Ages. And in reading further, I found out how things really were. The movie made me want to learn more about history.

Is that a bad thing? Absolutely not!

So, if watching movies is something that you love and enjoy, ignore the critics and just go for it, whether you’re watching 300, Kingdom of Heaven, Troy, Pompeii, Gladiator, or any other period flick. It doesn’t matter, so long as the setting is historical, you are bound to get switched on.

Great scene from Ridley Scott's epic, Gladiator

Great scene from Ridley Scott’s epic, Gladiator

#2 – Read Historical Fiction

Now I may be biased here, but I read a lot of historical fiction, almost exclusively.

Setting my bias aside, however, I truly believe that historical fiction, if done well, can both entertain and educate. It can move people’s hearts and minds, and give them an in-depth look at the past, the people, places, ways of thinking, and ways of living.

I really do believe that historical fiction should be on the curriculum for history classes at every level. It brings history to life in a more accessible way than non-fiction text-books, and in a deeper way than any film.

The reader is put smack dab into the history of the period the book is about. The reader can get lost, immersed in the history for as long as they want to read, or until the book ends.

Historical fiction, in a way, paints a more complete picture of the past, and is not constrained by any budget, or medium.

In writing historical fiction, or historical fantasy, anything goes, and there are no limits to the places a reader can be taken.

My current read! Stay tuned for a big surprise related to this book!

My current read!
Stay tuned for a big surprise related to this book!

Finally, my number one activity for getting excited about history…

#1 – Site Visits and Travel

I think I fell in love absolutely with history the first time I set foot inside a real castle. I believe it was Warwick Castle in England.

I can remember walking around, not only impressed by the sheer scale of the place, but mesmerized by the battlements, the towers, the rooms filled with armour.

Warwick Castle

Warwick Castle

Most of all I was amazed by the lives people actually led in the past.

Visiting an archaeological site, a castle, a ruin, or an ancient landscape, however big or small, is unlike any other experience.

I’m a firm believer that travel is the best education, and site visits are the perfect way to put you in touch with history and the people of the past.

I’ve written about the sites I’ve visited a lot on this blog, most recently ancient Argos, Epidaurus, and Nemea, but I remember every time I have visited an historic site. The experiences are burned in my memory.

Every time, I felt like I connected with the people who inhabited that place and age, that I gained a fuller understanding of them. I touched the altars where they worshiped their gods, smelled the air they smelled, heard the way the wind caressed the wall about their dwellings or as it rushed through their forests.

To stand on the top of Hadrian’s Wall I had an inkling of what it was like for a Roman soldier on the edge of the Empire. I’ve walked beneath the Lion Gate of Mycenae on my way to an audience with King Agamemnon, heard the battle cries of 300 Spartans at Thermopylae, and gazed across African olive groves to the Sahara from the arches of a remote desert amphitheatre.

Desert light at the theatre of Thysdrus (El Jem)

Desert light at the theatre of Thysdrus (El Jem)

Until virtual or augmented reality are perfected, there is no better way to connect with the past than standing where ancient people stood, seeing what they say, touching what they touched.

The problem with this is the cost of travel. I don’t travel nearly as much as I would like. But, if you can manage to save to go to a place of history that you’ve always wanted to visit, the memories of that journey will sustain you for a long time and give you a much greater understanding of the past.

Ipogeo Etrusco de Montecalvario (6th century B.C.)

Ipogeo Etrusco de Montecalvario (6th century B.C.)

I hope that you’ve found this interesting, and that it had perhaps given you some new ideas about how to connect and get excited about history in the chaos of modern life.

How do you like to connect with and get excited about history?

Is it something on the list above, or do you have your own preferred activity?

Let us know in the comments below. There are always new adventures waiting for us!

Thank you for reading.

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