7. Delphi

The Sanctuary of Apollo

Delphi is one of my absolute favorite places on the planet. Getting there from Athens is easy enough. I rented another car in Athens and knowing my driving ability, I asked the nice receptionist if they had a car with an automatic transmission. She asked me if I really needed it and I said, “I can drive in the city OR I can drive a stick shift. But not both. Your choice.”

She gave me an automatic, to the great benefit of everyone on the road. Even so, I did manage to piss off quite a few drivers when GPS said, “Turn right. NO, LEFT!!” I had to jam into the left turn lane with my back end hanging out in the other lane. This is a fairly standard maneuver in San Francisco, but the people who had to go around me were incensed. And they made their feelings known. Loudly. Signomi, drivers of Greece. Please forget I exist.

The wonderful part about driving on the mainland is that the roads have more than one lane, they are paved and GPS has a reasonable chance of getting you to your destination (reasonable, not assured). I was also the only car on the road for long stretches of time, so that was nice too. Such a relief after dodging tour buses on narrow, cliffside dirt roads and swerving away from motorcycles on streets the width of sidewalks. Also, the temperature drops pleasantly as one climbs into the mountains. I enjoyed leaving the heat and chaos of city life behind for a few days.

The scenery is not too inspiring until you reach the mountains. This side of the mainland is kind of dry and scrubby with rocky hillsides and parched grass. As you ascend, the surrounding areas become more green and lush. The road winds along the mountainside, with stunning views at every turn. The operative word here is “turn”. If you’re the driver, please try not to gawk at the stunning views for too long. You might end up part of the scenery in one of the stunning valleys a thousand feet below. Ask me how I know…

The town of Delphi is a tiny burg clinging to the side of a Mt. Parnassus with a view all the way to the Gulf of Corinth. The streets are narrow (of course), but there are only a few of them and they are for the most part, clearly marked one-way streets. This reduces the likelihood of meeting a tour bus face to face while searching for a parking spot.

Speaking of parking spots, this cliffside town has a very limited number of parking places. Grab the first available spot and walk to your hotel. The town isn’t that big, so wherever you are staying won’t be far from where you ditched the car. Unless it is on the other end of town, in that case do your recon on foot and move closer once you know there are available places nearer to your hotel.

The reason is this — if there is no place to park when you reach your hotel, you will most likely have to keep driving all the way through town and a ways down the road for several kilometers before you can turn back and have another try. One-way streets, my friends. You can’t just whip a U-turn in town. And those cross streets that you see on the map are stairs, not streets. GPS won’t tell you this until you’ve launched your rental car into the air past some surprised pigeons and cafe diners.

I got lucky with another random hotel choice. The proprietor of the Sibylla Hotel was a dear, sweet man. The room was clean and it had a refrigerator. The bed was a little on the hard side, but they gave me extra pillows, so no complaints.

It’s worth noting the steep set of stairs and lack of elevator at the hotel. Do not bring your biggest suitcase. Not only will you have to carry it up the steep stairs yourself (and pray that you are not on the top floor), but there’s not a whole lot of room in the room for such an item. And if there are two of you in said room, with two giant suitcases, you are going to have to scramble across them to get to the bed. Can’t say it enough — don’t overpack!

Anyway, got sidetracked for a minute. Back to Delphi.

The best part of the room was the balcony. It jutted out from the mountain over a vast valley far, far below. I felt like I was hanging in space, which was cool when I was sitting down. Standing up gave me vertigo. Pro tip — don’t stand at the railing when experiencing vertigo.

Word of note about Delphi — there are no laundromats in town. If you are wearing your swimsuit for underwear and your socks can move about on their own, you’d better hope your hotel has a laundry service. Mine did not. I had to make do with a sink wash and hang my unmentionables out on the balcony for all to see.

Another word of note — it’s windy on that mountainside! I went out later to see if everything had dried when I discovered a pair of my panties on the awning of the restaurant next door. As I was putting on my shoes to go down to the restaurant to retrieve them, I watched helplessly as the wind whipped them off the awning and down the mountainside. The guy with the weedwhacker below didn’t seem too surprised. I imagine it’s a frequent occurrence. Another pro tip — clothespins. Bring ‘em.

The view from my balcony. My underwear is somewhere down below.

Delphi is such a beautiful little town. Neat whitewashed houses with red tiled roofs rise up the mountainside. Bursts of bright purple bougainvillea tumble from balconies. There’s a selection of street cats and dogs to befriend. It’s very walkable and there’s a magnificent view from every street corner, restaurant and hotel room. Every time I visit, I like it even more. And the best part (for me anyway) is that the town is a short walk to the archeological site and museum. No need to move the car, just walk down the road and there it is.

In ancient times, Delphi was a significant religious site. Mythology tells how the god, Apollo slew the creature, Python, who had taken up residence in the cave that housed the god’s holy oracle. Once Apollo had dispatched the unwanted monster, he set up his priestess, the Pythia, to take requests and utter prophecies that came to her straight from his own lips. Delphi was THE place for people to go to get prophecies, advice and indecipherable messages.

Wars were fought or avoided based on the prophecies the Pythia uttered. Kings came to this site to learn which god to appease or what sacrifices to make to ensure the wellbeing of their kingdoms. It was home to the Omphalos, a giant rock said to mark the exact center of the world.

To receive a glimpse of the future, one would make their offering to Apollo, the God of Prophecy (and god of other things — music, poetry, the Sun, I forget what else. Apollo was a real multitasker). The priests would accept the gift on behalf of the god and take you to the Pythia.

The Pythia, poor woman, spent her workday in a cave, sitting on a shallow dish perched on a tripod. Sounds ridiculously uncomfortable, but who am I to criticize the God of Prophecy? She waited for petitioners to present their questions then would slip into a trance and speak for the god. The priests were on hand to interpret the nonsensical words and disjointed sentences she spewed forth and boom, you got yourself a prophecy. Please exit through the gift shop.

Modern scholars speculate that the Pythia was seated over a volcanic vent and the crazy talk she uttered was due to brain poisoning from inhaling the volcanic gases. Pythias came and went pretty frequently, so the supposition is probably accurate.

Fun fact — The Pythia was almost always a woman in her menopausal years because young Pythias attracted the wrong kind of attention and they would have do a lengthy and complex purification ritual every time one was defiled. Purification rituals shut down the whole temple complex and were generally bad for business.

Over time, the sanctuary continued to grow both in size and importance. Temples were built, statues installed, inscriptions were carved by everyone of importance to show just how important they were. And as gifts to the god, of course. Can’t go neglecting your gods.

Structures such as a stadium and theater were added and community events like the Pythian games were held on a rotating basis with the other big competitions — The Olympic, Nemean and Ithsmian games. These games were grand religious festivals honoring various gods in various places and included not only athletic competitions, but equestrian trials and competitions in the arts.

Women were allowed to come to the celebrations but not allowed to watch the trials. Some say it was because the athletes competed in the nude, but really now — hadn’t every woman seen it all already? Look at the pottery of the time. Not a stich of clothes on ANY of those men.

Case in point — naked guys everywhere. Even the ones with clothes on are naked

I suspect women weren’t allowed at the competitions so that men could talk of their great physical prowess and no one would be around to roll their eyes at their boasting.

The archeological site is large and there are many well preserved buildings and statuary from various ages. The main focal point of the ancient sanctuary was the Temple of Apollo (of course) and its foundation can be seen right where the god left it, but little else remains. A small temple for Athena was gifted to the site by a wealthy Roman family and it is more or less intact. The stadium is still a stadium, if you care to hike up to the top of the hill to see it. And dotted here and there are columns, inscriptions, carvings and other gifts of the stone variety from grateful families whose prayers were answered or whose prophecies were well received.

At some point in history, there was a massive earthquake and a lot of artifacts, offerings and artworks ended up buried under the rubble. The famous statue of Antinous, lover to the Roman Emperor Hadrian, is largely unblemished because it fell down a hole during the quake and was preserved almost in its original state. Similarly, the famous sculpture of the Sphinx was retrieved in relatively good condition and displayed at the museum onsite.

Emperor Hadrian’s special friend, Antinous. Dude was hot.

Speaking of the museum, I was agog. I was standing before sculptures that I had only ever seen in photographs. It was kind of like coming face to face with a mythical being. Like if you were on a hike and you bumped into a centaur sitting in the sun. The bronze statue “The Charioteer” comes to mind. I have seen it dozens of times in art history books, on the internet, in various historical articles and there it was — standing right in front of me. AGOG!

The Charioteer, in all his glory — minus an arm, his chariot and his horses. Still glorious.

I have been there twice and will go again. There are a lot of archeological sites where it’s just a placard and a bunch of rocks. I’ve seen a lot of rocks on this trip. A LOT. Delphi is more than just rocks. It’s a sanctuary filled to bursting with temples, shrines, sculptures, commemorative columns, inscriptions; a fascinating glimpse at the devotion and beliefs of the ancient world.

Here’s a few other things I saw while I was there:

My favorite temple dog. I met him last year. The hotel owner said he was 15 years old and his name is Dog.

The strangest store I have every been in. Got lost trying to buy gum.

What?

I stayed three nights in Delphi and on my last night, I strolled all the way down the main street just to see what was at the other end. I found more bars and restaurants at the other end. Go figure.

Since I had walked all that way and since the restaurant had comfortable chairs and a knockout view, I sat down for a few minutes and took it in. The nice young man at the bar gave me a free drink. Thanks, nice young man! And by young, I mean practically adolescent. He was cute in that gawky, teenage way.

View from the restaurant.

I thanked him for the drink and was walking up the street when he ran through the restaurant and intercepted me on the street at the other end. A + for effort, my friend!

He wanted to know where I was going and would I please stay for another drink? Hmmmm, did I really want another drink? I told him I had to go back to my room and drop off the souvenirs I had just purchased, but I would come back. The poor young man looked so sweet and hopeful, I couldn’t just walk away and never come back. Well, I could walk away and never come back but after looking in his puppy-dog eyes, I didn’t have the heart.

So, I dropped off my bags and trotted back down the street. He was looking for me out the door, possibly the whole time I was gone. He gave me another drink and escorted me to the window with the panoramic view of the valley and with one hand, began pointing out interesting sights… the other hand was on my ass.

Bold, young man. Very bold.

His name was Socrates. Easy enough to remember. I asked him how old he was. He told me to guess. I guessed 27 and he said, “Right!” Ah shit, what would happen if say, his mother were to happen by at this particular moment? Would I get my ass kicked? I would totally get my ass kicked.

I asked him how old he thought I was. He was off by 20 years, but off in a good way. He didn’t suggest that I was 80 years old, thank god. When I told him how old I really am, he shrugged and said that age was just a number. I was starting to like this man who was the same age as my firstborn child.

Then he lunged.

Right there, in the middle of the restaurant, he pulled me in and I found myself fielding a really awkward, totally unexpected, passionate, open mouthed kiss in the middle of the restaurant. Alrighty then! My first kiss in six years!

I guess maybe I should have anticipated the lunge, since I didn’t tell him to take his hand off my ass. But no. I never would have anticipated that. In the middle of the restaurant? In the middle of his shift? I wondered if his boss was going to come around the corner and chase me off with a broom.

I glanced back at the bar, looking for an advancing broom and he must have felt me stiffen in fear. He steered me over to one of the more secluded booths and didn’t hold back. Shock gave way to amusement and I was curious to see how this would play out. Besides, he was a good kisser, so there’s that.

He was either very accustomed to macking out on patrons while on the clock, or he never gets an opportunity to touch a woman and wasn’t about to miss this chance. Hard to say. He invited himself to my room after his shift at the bar ended at 4:00 in the morning. I told him, “Slow down there, cowboy.” He asked, “What is cowboy?”

A cowboy is someone who is NOT coming over to my room at 4:00 AM, young man. I don’t know, should I have been taking these guys up on their offers? Restaurant Guy, Ferry Guy and now Child Bartender Guy — Am I a hopeless prude? At this point, maybe I am. Maybe if I were younger or drunker I could do it, but now it just seems weird to get down with a stranger. I waffled for a minute then decided to pass. He looked closer to 17 than 27. Just a child. I would have felt like a creep.

I extricated myself from his grasp. He handed me his phone and asked me for my number, which for some reason, I gave him. Then he checked to make sure I hadn’t given him a fake (he’s wise to that one, I see), then laid another grasping, grappling passionate kiss on me.

Ok, so what’s the deal here? Did I suddenly became more attractive? I NEVER get this or any kind of attention at home. Never! It’s been six years and nary an ass grab. Here, it’s like I’m a fucking rock star.

Is it because I’m blond? Do they think I have money? Are they trying to line up a sugar mama? Hate to disappoint, kiddos — I’m broke. Anyway, not trying to brag here. Confused mostly. Totally bewildered and blushing. It’s been three weeks and I’m still blushing. Oh well, it’s a boost to the old self esteem. I’ll take it. I am not invisible after all.