Ancient Delphi
At last, a day came to which I had been looking forward to for a year. The ancient ruins at Delphi. I had been looking forward to this day in particular, as Delphi is closely connected with Irene Mawer.
In 1930, the Ginner-Mawer School were invited to perform in the 2nd Delphic Festival. Irene and Co. performed in Athens (on the Acropolis right next to the Parthenon, which must have been amazing for them). As part of their trip, Irene also watched at least one performance at the outdoor theatre here in Delphi. Irene saw an Ancient Greek play called Prometheus and I was keen to get onto the site and see for myself where Miss Mawer and Miss Ginner had been.
In one of Ruby Ginner’s books about her method of Classical Greek Dance, there is a photo of the theatre at Delphi and I was keen to see if I could take a photo from the same standpoint. I almost got it. In 1930 you could stand anywhere, but now, of course, many areas are roped off to prevent damage. I felt I could have got the same camera angle, but I would have needed to stand on one of the random bits of stone that seem to by lying around everywhere (ha ha ha). I didn’t dare. The stone that I wanted to stand on wasn’t roped off, but on the other hand, neither did I want ‘the whistle’. At all of the archeological sites, wanton tourists who transgress the rules get ‘peeped’ at. Like in a swimming pool. It is a very gentle way of getting people to behave. I would have been highly embarassed, so didn’t risk it…
When Andy and I had arrived at the archaelogical site, it was relatively early, 9.30am. Andy had researched the site very well, and as we approached, he explained to me that on the right hand side was the special stream that comes out of the rocks, which has Greek mythology attached to it. I won’t go into all of the myths and legends here, but suffice to say, I wanted to look at it. This is where all of my luck fell into place and things worked out really well. Opposite the stream was a parking bay, and it had space for the van, so Andy swung into it. It had been our intention just to have a quick look at the stream and then drive on to the ‘main bit’. However, it became clear that parking was at a premium – there was barely anwhere to park, for anyone, even cars. The site is on the side of a mountain and stretches for a couple of miles – some of it you need to pay to get in to see, and some of it you can look down on to from the road
Where we parked we had a spectacular view, looking down the mountainside into the valley and across to the mountains opposite. And below us were the remains that you could look at from the road, but not go into. I also noticed that there was a tree-lined footpath and a sign pointing to the museum. So all things considered, it seemed to be a good solution to simply continue to park in our amazingly good spot. A very lucky outcome.
Dogs are not allowed into the site, and Sidney is too young to be left on his own for more than a couple of minutes, so Andy stayed with him while I donned my comfy, sturdy walking shoes and set off on an adventure. The entrance to the site was literally 60 seconds walk away and I asked the lady at the booth for a ticket. She wanted to know whether I would be visitng the site first, or the museum. I opted for the museum in case coach-loads of tourists turned up later on and flooded the place. “In that case,” she said (or words to that effect, “you need to go to the museum and buy your ticket there, then afterwards use the same ticket to come back in here.” So I did.
The museum was a splendid affair, a very modern building, all clean lines and massive walls of glass. The displays and the lighting were excellent and I had a really good look around. I have posted loads of photos, in ten parts on my just-for-fun travel blog. If you scroll back through that blog (not far) you will see that I have listed them (numbers 42 – 50). I’ve edited the photos and taken out the duplicates. Here is the link https://www.facebook.com/share/14qt5Et24sn/
When I came out of the museum, I fancied having a break before the assault on the oudoor area. The cafe and shop are right next to the museum, so I went to see if their prices were reasonable. I was in there for about three seconds, before I came out. It was tiny, horrible, and like a bus station cafe in England. I was very surprised that there was no gift shop (not that I wanted anything, but usually this stuff is pushed down your throat). So, poor show on the cafe, but full marks for not cluttering up the world with more tat. Seeing as Andy was only two minutes walk away, I messaged him to say that I was coming back for a cup of tea.
I wandered off down the path towards the van, dodging the people, the huge, shaggy stray dogs, and the myriad cats. So many cats. Loads of them. I was busy looking at all of this, and admiring how green the whole area was, when I was shocked to see two faces that I knew – Andy and Sidney! Andy had brought Sid out for a walk and was socialising him to all the hustle and bustle, and to the dogs and the cats. We all went back to the van together and I had a quick sit down and a snack to gird my loins for Operation Delphi Part Two.
Everything went beautifully. I was dressed for the cool (but not cold) weather, and it wasn’t until the end of my visit that the skies darkened. There were just the right amount of other tourists to give the place some character, but not so many that we fell over each other. I could easily take photos with no people in them, but often I included people to give a sense of scale. And, to be honest, these ancient places need people – they were busy in their original days, full of comings and goings, talking, eating, drinking, etc. So to creep around whispering in hushed tones wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Even the occasional exuberant teenager who showed off, making weird loud ‘singing’ noises didn’t bother me – they would have existed in ancient times, too.
If you intend to visit these ancient sites, be aware that it is quite ‘dangerous’ underfoot. There are bits of rock sticking out of compacted soil everywhere – and innumerable steps. So many steps. There are lots of slopes, too. If you are not very mobile, give yourself plenty of time, especially if you want to visit the sports stadium at Delphi – it is right at the top of the site, and as far as I could tell, the only way to get there is to walk. I did make it to the top, and on the way, I called in at the theatre – the main point of my visit. I was disappointed to find that the theatre is a no-go area, but I was very pleased to see that on the information board there was a photo from 1930, showing a performance of Prometheus. Standing next to the board was a French woman and her daughter, who I had already met in the museum earlier in the day – so I stood with her. She didn’t speak English, so in my best French accent I managed to point at the information and the photo and say “Mon amie etait ici.” I couldn’t quite manage “The woman whose mime technique I learned was at this performance in 1930 and I am here because I am writing a book about her.” So, “My friend was here” had to suffice.
I have to say, it did the job. Her face lit up, and so did that of her daughter and when she realised that the photo showed the performance she said words to the effect “Oh, we should look for your friend” and we all laughed. She then wrestled my ‘phone off me and took some photos for posterity, which was nice of her. It’s these small acts of friendship that restore faith in humanity and we both have a happy story to tell when we get home. I am sure that Irene would be pleased that she was the catalyst for some “entente cordiale”.
