18 July 2025
The
theatre is grander, carved into the slope, a place where tragedy and comedy
once unfolded beneath an open sky. How strange, I thought, that in this place
both gladiators and poets performed for the same applause.
Then
to the museum, which houses the excavation finds from all periods, including
from Prehistoric settlements, Roman statues, mosaic floors and murals.
And
then we were dropped off at Plaka, to wait for our next bus which would take us
to Cape Sounion. There was time enough for lunch, so I walked around and
finally settled on a restaurant that was serving fish, as I was in the mood for
seafood (as always). Here the waiter asked, “What do you want?” – like I said,
very direct, but they do not mean to be rude, it is just the way they are! I
ordered grilled salmon and rice, which was so good! I complimented the waiter
after I had finished eating, and he was so pleased he gave me a hug. There you
go!
And
then off to Cape Sounion! The road from Athens winds along the coast like a
ribbon unspooling beside the Aegean, each bend offering glimpses of blue so
bright it almost stings. The sea here isn’t gentle – it glitters like a blade. It is Poseidon's sea.
And
then you see it: the Temple
of Poseidon,
perched high on the cliffs, white marble against the sky like a beacon or a
warning. Even half-ruined, it commands the horizon. It stands where land ends,
where myth begins, and where the gods (if they ever walked the earth) might
still pause to look out.
Built
in the 5th century BCE, the temple once welcomed sailors home and
saw them off again to war and trade and storm. Now, it welcomes us, travellers
seeking something quieter. I walked slowly among the columns, worn smooth by
wind and salt. Some still rise tall, fluted and noble; others lie broken at
their feet. The names of 19th century romantics are said to be carved
into the stone – Byron among them, though I suspect the ancient wind pays them
no mind as I could find no such carvings. Or perhaps I just wasn’t looking hard
enough.
There
was very little sound. Just the wind, and the sea below, endlessly folding
itself into the rocks. I found a spot at the edge of the cliff and sat down,
the temple behind me, the sky a clear, brilliant blue, and the sea shimmering
as if a thousand stars were dancing upon the sunlight.
There’s
a story, of course, about King
Aegeus,
who threw himself from this very cliff when he saw the black sails of his son
Theseus’s ship and believed the worst. The sea still carries his name. I
thought of that as I sat there – the grief of fathers, the weight of stories,
the way Greece
never separates myth from place.
Here, the story is the landscape.
And
then back to the hotel, a quick shower and down to meet Silvia and Kiyasha for
dinner. We went to the same place we were at on Wednesday, as the food was
really good, and more importantly, it was frequented by locals which means it
had to be authentic. Unfortunately, we had a bit of a tiff about (of all
things) communism! 🙄. But back at the hotel I gave Silvia a hug and
asked her to be patient with me, as I truly did love her. I think we are ok.
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