The pediments

Pictures can't really capture the impact of these; when you walk into the room with these pediments on opposite walls, it's jaw-dropping.

The eastern pediment, on top, depicts a chariot race, while the western pediment depicts a well-known battle between humans and centaurs (Apollo, in the center, is looking at the humans indicating that he's on their side.) I'm not a classicist, though I like knowing all the mythological details behind the art, but in this case, the pediments could have depicted an early version of a particulary contentious Black Friday sale and I would love them just as much.

Temple of Zeus

This 5th century temple once contained one of the Seven Wonders of the World, the status of Zeus by the sculptor Phidias. The temple itself was also a wonder, roofed with marble tiles cut thin enough to be translucent.

Even in ruins, it's impressive. But it's seeing the sculptures from the pediments in the museum that really brings home how magnificent this temple must have been.

Olympia museum

All of the archaeological sites have museums, displaying the artifacts, providing context, and protecting them in a controlled environment. The museums in Greece were all good, but the one at Olympia was superb.

The statue of Hermes on the left, traditionally attributed to Praxiteles, was discovered in the Temple of Hera in 1877.

The Paeonios statue of Nike was found around the same time; I love the flowing draperies; it really feels as though she is in motion.

Leaving Jeddah

I admit I'm a little weary of ruins and there are still so many to go through: Olympia, Ephesus, Knossos.

So here's something from this millennium—a tugboat arriving to escort us out of the very busy harbor at Jeddah.

Inside the tomb

Looking up at the dome inside the tomb, and one of the spooky side chambers. That stonework is more than 3000 years old, and the dome is still intact. Clearly the Cyclops did excellent work.

Treasury of Atreus

This site is also known as the Tomb of Agamemnon. It is was definitely a tomb, but any treasure it may have contained was robbed long ago.

It dates from around 1300 BC and is one of the best-preserved of this kind of beehive tomb. It's hard to judge the scale from a picture, but that doorway is almost 18 feet high (5.4 m).

View from the citadel

 

The Lion Gate

The entrance to the citadel, front and back.

The heads of the lions may have originally been made from something other than stone, but they're long gone. The Classical Greeks called this stonework “Cyclopean” because they thought only the Cyclops would have been able to hoist those enormous stones.

Mycenaean mythology

As you climb up to the citadel, this is the view from outside the walls.

In mythology, Mycenae was founded by Perseus, who landed here one day while he was riding around on Pegasus.

I prefer to think of Agamemnon, and imagine him striding off to the coastline on his way to retrieve his wayward sister-in-law, with Clytemnestra glaring daggers at his retreating back.

Mycenae

The citadel on the acropolis.

I really had very little idea of the historical—as opposed to mythological—significance of Mycenae (apart from remembering it as the place where Schliemann found that cool gold mask).

In fact the period from 1600-1100 BC in Greek history is called Mycenaean because the city was the major power in southern Greece. By the end of this period, though, it was part of the general Bronze Age Collapse in the eastern Mediterranean, and though it was partially rebuilt and had a brief renaissance during the Hellenistic era, its glory days were over. It's been a ruin for far longer than it was a thriving city.

I have gazed upon the face of Agamemnon

This is what the archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann is supposed to have wired to the King of Greece after finding this mask at Mycenae.

It's still referred to as the Mask of Agamemnon, even though it's from the 16th century BC, at least 300-400 years before the Trojan War. (And there's no proof that a king by that name ever existed outside of mythology.)

This mask in the museum at Mycenae is a replica—the orginal is in Athens—but I didn't care. I loved reading about archaeology when I was a kid—Howard Carter and King Tut's tomb, Sir Arthur Evans and Knossos, Heinrich Schliemann and Troy and Mycenae. Having a chance to gaze upon that face myself gave me goosebumps.

Epidaurus

I swear by Apollo the Physician and by Asclepius, by Hygieia, by Panacea, and by all the gods ...

That's one of the ancient versions of the Hippocratic Oath, invoking the god of healing, Asclepius, and his daughters Hygieia and Panacea. The sanctuary of Asclepius in Epidaurus was the most famous healing center in Classical Greece. There isn't much left of the sanctuary itself—acres of ruined stone walls that were once guesthouses for the patients, and a large sleeping room where it was believed that the god would visit the patients in dreams and tell them what they needed to do to be healed.

There are also a stadium and a theatre, civic monuments which the prosperity of the sanctuary made possible. The theatre is famous for its acoustics and it still used today. I stood on the stage area and recited the first few lines of the Odyssey. (Something from a drama would have been more appropriate, but that bit of Homer and the beginning of the Gospel of John is all I remember of Classical Greek.) It was fun to hear my voice expand in the space, and to do it in Greek, and on any other day, this would have been the highlight, but our next stop was Mycenae.