Delphi is an ancient sanctuary located on the slopes of Mount Parnassus in Greece, overlooking a valley filled with olive trees, and with a view of the Gulf of Krissa, also known as Kolpos Iteas. Just to the west is the modern town of Delphi, with the houses of its 2,300 permanent residents hanging from the mountainside, ready to slip off the slope at the mere suggestion of a gust of wind. At least that’s what it looked like from the vantage point of my seat on the bus as it wound its way up the mountain switchbacks. But as I got closer, it appeared that the town was on sound footing after all.
I tried to imagine what it would have been like for an ancient visitor to Delphi. First, the traveler would have arrived at the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia. The word “pronaia” means “the one before the temple”, and the Sanctuary of Athena is literally the temple people would arrive at prior to continuing on to the Temple of Apollo where they would be able to consult the Pythia, the famous oracle of Delphi. About halfway between the two temples is the Kastalian Spring, where visitors seeking a meeting with the oracle would have to cleanse themselves in its purifying water. Only the cleansed could enter the Temple of Apollo. It would have been a long journey for a visitor to the temple, but major decisions, such as deciding whether or not to go to war, would not have been made without first seeking the oracle’s counsel. Often, for lesser decisions, the wealthy would send their messengers to the oracle to ask their questions.
It was late in the day when I arrived in Delphi, too late to go directly to the ancient sanctuaries. I checked into my colourful, 35-Euro-per-night room at the Sibylla Hotel, and chatted with the delightful proprietor, who was applying some eye medication to a limping dog. “This is the oldest stray dog in Delphi”, he told me. He has paid for the dog’s medication, as well as the cat food he is feeding to the strays, out his own pocket. Like everywhere I’ve been in Greece, it seems that the stray animals are well cared for by selfless souls. Delphi doesn’t seem to have any hostels, so I was giddy with pleasure at having my own room for the first time in months. I even had my own bathroom, although I struggled to keep the water inside the tiny shower. Every time I tried to maneuver myself in that little space to rinse myself, I accidentally hit the faucet one way or the other to turn the water freezing cold or to scald myself. Ah, but what an adventure.
The “supermarket” across the street was wonderfully unique. I hesitated when I first stepped in the door; the few pieces of produce seemed okay, but everything else in the small, cramped store was covered in dust and some of the cans on the shelves looked like they’d been there for years. I grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf, dusted it off to make sure there was red wine inside, wiped a bar of Greek chocolate against my shirt to clean it, and skirted my way along a congested aisle to the checkout till, which was so cluttered with dusty merchandise that there was nowhere to set down my own goods. There were a couple of Greek-speaking tourists ahead of me, a mother and her daughter, and they were clearly enjoying themselves in this archaic little store. They laughed with the owner about something and went on their way. The old woman behind the counter smiled at me, took my money without entering anything into the cash register, gave me change that I didn’t count, and then held her finger up in a “just hold on a second” gesture while she searched for something under the counter. Finally, she pulled out a bowl of candy and motioned for me to take one. Hehe, what a delightful woman. Free dust, free candy, free toothless smiles. What a charming little shop.
Down the street, at a gift shop that was just about to close, I bought a book on Greek mythology that was written in English. It didn’t have a price tag on it, so I asked the owner, who was just pulling his street displays inside for the night. “It’s normally 16 Euros, but since I’m closing, I’ll give it to you for 11 Euros.” Sold! I walked a block down the street and found the same book displayed for 10 Euros. Sigh.
I enjoyed a quiet night, sitting on my hotel balcony with a glass of wine, reading about Greek mythology, occasionally gazing out over the valley towards the Gulf of Krissa, listening to the silence, and thinking, “Man, I could live here.” There certainly was no shortage of the things I love in life – hiking, wine, mountain air, interesting history, and friendly people. I set my book down, gazed into the sky, and let myself dream. It was so nice to be out of Athens, out of the big city. To hear only the quiet in the night.
In the morning, well-rested from the effects of red wine and the mountain air, I breakfasted at a café, winced as my taste buds registered the harsh Greek coffee, and headed down to the Sanctuary of Apollo. An off-season ticket price of 6 Euros (12 Euros during high season) gave me unlimited access for the day to the Sanctuary of Apollo and the museum, which housed and preserved many of the artifacts from the site itself. Down the road, access to the Sanctuary of Athena and the Kastalian Spring was free. In an attempt to avoid a passing rain cloud, I opted to explore the museum first.
One thing to understand about all the ancient buildings, sanctuaries, and temples in Greece is that they are all in ruins. Nearly everything that looks like the original has been restored, and most likely restored within the last 150 years. There are many reasons for this, but war and earthquakes have been the primary culprits. For example, back in Athens at the Acropolis, during the Great Turkish War in the 1600s, the Turks used the Parthenon as a gunpowder magazine, likely thinking that the Venetians wouldn’t target such a valuable historical structure. They were wrong; a single round caused the magazine to explode, destroying the central structure and causing the outer walls to fall in. In another example, the invading Romans tore down much of the Temple of Olympian Zeus to use the columns to build their own temples back home.
The Sanctuary at Delphi suffered through many fires, earthquakes, and wars, where the victors often ransacked the temples, melting down gold and bronze to pay their soldiers, but the temples were often rebuilt or repaired. Later, with the growth of Christianity came anti-pagan legislation and the destruction of pagan religious sites, and this proved to be the end of the Sanctuary at Delphi. In 390 AD, the Christian Roman emperor Theodosius I destroyed the Temple of Apollo, silencing the oracle forever.
For centuries, the sanctuary was buried under landslides until a deal was struck in the late 1800s to move the residents still living in the area to a new location just adjacent to the site, allowing French archeologists to begin work recovering the sanctuary. Ten years later, the Delphi Archeological Museum was built to house many of the artifacts uncovered during the excavations. It was exciting for me, 114 years later, to finally be entering its doors.
My biggest beef with museums in general is their lack of storytelling. Humans crave stories, not just the technical details of the artifacts they’re observing. Unfortunately, the museum at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, in which I was excited to see that all information was not only provided in Greek, but also in English and French, was just as disappointing with regard to storytelling. Take, for instance, this random passage describing “The ‘twins’ of Argos”: “The two identical, over life-size statues, are the oldest monumental votive offerings at Delphi and one of the earliest examples of large-scale archaic sculpture. Such a pair of statues in ancient Greek art is quite rare. From the time of their discovery, they have been identified with two mighty and pious brothers from Argos, Cleobis and Biton whom the Argives wished to honour by making and dedicating statues of them at Delphi.” But who the heck were these guys? Were they athletes? Politicians? Heroes? What did they do that made the Argives want to honour them? What was their story?
I was surprised to discover that a Sphinx was one of the artifacts uncovered. I had always associated the Sphinx with the ancient Egyptians, but it seems the sphinx symbol is widespread. This sphinx was supposed to ward off evil, but I guess it didn’t do a very good job.
The museum was busy, despite it being the off season. There were at least six school groups taking tours in Greek and French, so I had to do some clever maneuvering to be able to read some of the placards and to avoid the yawning students.
From the museum, I walked down a path under cloudy skies to a gate and entered the sanctuary. As far as sanctuaries go, this one is stunningly beautiful, with gorgeous views from almost everywhere on the site. And it’s not just the archeological site that is protected. The views from here are too; for instance, you won’t see a single power line from any vantage point on the site. They have all been rerouted to protect the view.
I won’t go into detail about all the artifacts and buildings on the site – that’s the kind of stuff that can make even adults yawn – but you can look at some of the pictures below, if you like. Suffice it to say that the sanctuary is worth visiting. There is peacefulness there, up on Mount Parnassus, and to sit and observe the place where the ancient oracle made her predictions while she sat in a chair over a vapour-emitting chasm makes for an exciting adventure. I wondered what question I might ask her today if given the chance.
From the Temple of Apollo, I walked out to the road. The view down into the valley was gorgeous, and there on the slope below was the sanctuary of my favourite goddess, Athena. With a lilt to my step, I headed down the road.
