Travels in the Ancient Worlds of Greece and Rome

I spent the summer after my junior year in college wandering around Greece exploring archaeological sites.

I had various traveling companions. At one point Helen, a British friend from my year at Edinburgh, and I had camped in an olive orchard, our student budgets not permitting more elegant accommodations. We had found a spring surrounded by a stone basin—who knows how many generations of Greek shepherds had watered their flocks there. A lovely, idyllic setting which we decided would be a perfect place to wash our hair (fully clothed, of course, the idyllic pastoral image only goes so far). We had nearly finished when a shepherd arrived with his goats. Both shepherd and girls were undone by this traffic jam at the watering hole. Somehow with broken Greek, we expressed our apologies and made a hasty retreat, cleaner, but embarrassed.

A less blush-worthy memory, but one that inspired me, comes from my first trip to the Acropolis in Athens. Following good advice, I approached that sacred ground very early when no tourists and less city noise marred the experience. I sat at the entryway in the early morning light, looking at the temples rising above me and feeling the cool marble where I sat, unimaginably worn beneath my palms.

Later I walked around the Parthenon and past the columns of the Erechtheion carved in the shape of women, beside which it is said the ancient Athenians witnessed the rivalry between Athena and Poseidon to become the city’s favored god. Poseidon gave them a spring of salt water. Athena caused an olive tree to sprout from the bare ground. I would have chosen olives as the Athenians did, but perhaps we should remember that it takes salty brine to make an olive edible.

I would love to have had the same reverential experience when I went to the Roman Forum, but it has always escaped me. My first visit was with my sister before I had started studying the ancient world. I remember lots of art in Rome, but whatever of the forum we saw that time quickly faded. More recently I took my grown children and husband. The day was hot and somehow the magic which had accompanied us at other points during the trip refused to enter our minds.

So I was delighted to read this article “Where the Ancient Past is Palpably Present” by Francis Rocca, about his joy in visiting the Roman Forum Next time I go, I will come better prepared with his understanding of this venerable spot full of human history and with the guide book he mentions. I recommend this lovely article for your own inspiration, even if you never intend to leave your armchair.