Greece | Athens | Mouseion Hill | Hill of the Muses

Wandered up 485-foot Mouseion Hill for a panoramic view of the Acropolis. The hill got its name from the 6th-century BC poet and seer Musaios, who was supposedly buried on its summit. Because of its association with Musaios, reputed to be the son of the legendary minstrel Orpheus, it is also known as the Hill of the Muses. Part way up I passed by the Prison of Socrates, where, according to legend, the great philosopher was confined before he was forced to the drink the Hemlock.

 Prison of Socrates (click on photos for enlargements)

Socrates was an enigmatic character, to say the least. He was born not far from Athens in 469 B.C., the son of stonemason who aspired to be a sculptor. His mother was a midwife. Socrates too may have worked for awhile as a stonemason before finding his true calling as a free-lance philosopher and teacher. With thick lips, bulging eyes, and a pot-belly, he was a notoriously unattractive figure. He seldom bathed or washed his clothes and went barefooted most of the time. His wife, the shrewish Xanthippe, henpecked him unmercifully. He apparently managed to father three sons with her, all of whom turned out to be dolts, but his main interpersonal relationships seemed to be with young men. It is unclear if he served solely as an intellectual mentor to the young men who flocked around him to hear his teachings or if he also had sexual relationships with at least some of them. In Athens at the time it would certainly not have been unusual for a married man like Socrates to have young male lovers. Many married men, we are led to believe, preferred the company of young men or boys and only coupled with their wives for purposes of procreation. When they just wanted to get their rocks off they preferred other males. In any case, Socrates had ample opportunities to meet young admirers. One of his students, Xenophon, who had became smitten with Socrates at a young age, wrote that:

Socrates was always in the public eye. Early in the morning he used to make his way to the covered walkways and open-air gymnasia, and when the marketplace became busy he was there in full view; and he always spent the rest of the day where he expected to find the most company. He talked most of the time and anyone who liked was able to listen.

In this way Socrates acquired a large following, especially among the aristocratic young of the city who were thrilled by his charismatic personality and provocative teachings.His influence on the young and the ideas he was putting into their heads eventually aroused the suspicions of some important people. Finally a politician by the name of Meletus had the philosopher arrested. The charges read:

This indictment and affidavit is sworn by Meletus, the son of Meletus of Pitthos, against Socrates, the son of Sophroniscus of Alopece: Socrates is guilty of refusing to recognize the gods recognized by the state, and of introducing other new divinities. He is also guilty of corrupting the youth. The penalty demanded is death.

At that time trials took place at some public forum, probably in the open air, in front of a very large jury. Important trials had a jury of 1,501 citizens; even private suits were heard by juries of from 201 to 401 members. The jury cast its ballots in secret and fifty percent of the votes plus one were needed for a conviction. We do not know the exact size of Socrates’s jury, but he was found guilty by a majority of sixty votes. At that time both the prosecution and the defense could suggest a punishment and the same jury that decided the case could choice which one they preferred. The prosecution demanded death. Socrates, rather cheekily, first suggested that the proper punishment for his supposed offensives would be a government pension for the rest of his life, since he was, in his own opinion at least, a benefit to society. Then, acting on the advice of Plato and other close friends, he suggested a fine of 3000 drachmas. The jury was not amused by his insouciance; more voted for the death penalty than had voted for his conviction.

The sentence may have been carried out here at the prison where he was supposedly held prior to the trial. Other sources suggest he died in another prison in the ancient Agora. In any case, in the presence of several close friends and disciples (Plato, who was ill at the time, did not attend) Socrates downed the concoction of poison hemlock. The bystanders broke down in tears. One of those present, his disciples Phaedo, left an account of Socrates’ reaction:

“Really, my friends, what kind of behavior is this? Why, that was my main reason for sending away the women, to prevent this sort of commotion; because I am told that one should make one’s end in a peaceful frame of mind. Calm down and try to be brave.”

Phaedo goes on:

This made us feel ashamed, and we controlled our tears. Socrates walked about, and soon, saying that his legs were heavy, lay down on his back—that was what the prison warden recommended. The man (he was the same one who had administered the poison) kept his hand on Socrates, and after a little while inspected his feet and legs; then pinched his foot hard and asked if he felt it. Socrates said no. Then he did the same to his legs; and moving gradually upwards in this way let us see that he was becoming inert and numb. Presently he touched him again and said that when it reached the heart, Socrates would be gone. The numbness was spreading about as far as his groin when Socrates uncovered his face—for he had covered it up—a nd said (these were his last words): “Crito, we ought to sacrifice a cock to Asclepius. Make sure it’s done. Don’t forget.” “No, it shall be done,” said Crito. “Are you sure that there is nothing else?” Socrates made no reply to this question, but after a little while he stirred; and when the man uncovered him, his eyes were fixed. When Crito saw this, he closed the mouth and eyes. Such was the end of our comrade, who was, we may fairly say, of all those whom we knew in our time, the bravest and also the wisest and most upright man.

The citizens of Athens eventually had a change of heart. Meletus, who had brought charges against Socrates, was eventually tried and executed for his role in this sorry affair. Another of his accusers, Anytus, was exiled to a backwater port on the Black Sea, where he was eventually stoned to death by an angry mob. Meanwhile, a statue of Socrates by the famous sculptor Lysippus was erected in Athens. And of course, it is Socrates that we are still talking about today, 2500 years later.

Continuing on up the trail to the summit of Mouseion Hill, thoughts of Socrates still reverberating through my mind, it occurred to me that there are a few modern philosophers who might benefit from some time behind bars in Socrates’s Prison; for example, the incorrigible  Post-Modern Neo-Nihilist and irrepressible popinjay David Weinberger. At least Weinberger, famous in college for his Dionysian revelries and unbridled bacchanalias and infamous as a shamelessly slavish sycophant of the insufferable German doofus and dingbat Marty “I Invented Being and Time and If You Don’t Like It Bite Me!” Heidegger, would have time while behind bars to rethink his rebarbative theory that Everything Is Miscellaneous. Socrates was forced to drink the Hemlock, but Weinberger continues to walk the streets of America a free man. Did I mention that Weinberger is also a rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth foe of the otherwise beloved Dewey Decimal System and a perennial front runner on Bucknell University’s list of Worst Dressed Alumni?

View of the Acropolis and the Parthenon from part way up Mouseion Hill 

 View of the Acropolis and the Parthenon from near the summit Mouseion Hill

As mentioned Mouseion Hill is also known as the Hill of the Muses. For centuries poets and song-writers, including Van Morrison and Bob Dylan, have come here to perform and seek inspiration. Also see One Irish Rover.

Van Morrison and Bob Dylan on the Hill of the Muses (not my photo)

 The trail continue on to the ruins of the mausoleum and monument of Gaius Julius Antiochus Epiphanes Philopappos 65–116 AD), a well-known prince of the Kingdom of Commagene, on the summit of the hill. It is not clear, but the monument may stand on the older grave of Musaios.

 See Commagene on the map (in pink)

Although born in Commagene, Philopappos spent much of his life Athens and was well-known as a benefactor of the city. He was a boon companion of the Roman Emperor Trajan and Trajan`s successor as emperor Hadrian. After he died in 116 his sister Julia Balbilla and prominent citizens of Athens erected this monument in his honor on the summit of Mouseion Hill.

Ruins of the mausoleum and monument to Gaius Julius Antiochus Epiphanes Philopappos

Greece | Athens | Acropolis | Parthenon

I have been through the Athens airport eight or ten times but had never gone downtown. Deciding that it was time to finally see the birthplace of Occidental civilization I booked a room literally in the shadow of the Acropolis, the huge hill in the middle of the city topped by the Parthenon. Unfortunately I picked a bad day to arrive. The train service from the airport to downtown was on strike and I was forced to take a taxi, which immediately set me back 38 Euros plus 2 for the freeway toll.  Welcome to Greece. This was quite a bit more than my hotel room. At least the taxis were working, When I visited the Greek Island of Crete a year earlier all public transport was on strike and I was forced to hitchhike from the airport to town. Fortunately I was picked up was a charming young woman and her two friends who went out of their way to drop my off right in front of my hotel and also gave me an informative introduction to Crete. 

My hotel, with a balcony view of the Acropolis, is located right next door to the site of the old Capuchin Monastery. Established in 1669, it hosted numerous illustrious guests, including the England poet and world-class cad Lord Byron. Oddly enough, on my First Visit To Venice I stayed a few doors from the hotel where Lord Byron first stayed when he arrived in Venice for the first time. This reminded me that the term paper  I wrote on Lord Byron`s epic poem Don Juan earned me the first “A” I had ever gotten on a college essay. Anyhow, the monastery was destroyed in 1824 during the Greek war for independence from the Ottoman Empire. The site is marked, however, by The Monument of Lysicrates, built in 334 B.C. Apparently Lysicrates was a patron of the arts who paid a poet, flute player, and actors to appear in a contest for the best dramatic production in an early version of “Greeks Got Talent.” His group of performers won, so he was required to built a monument to Dionysus to honor them. The monument was later incorporating into grounds of the Capuchin Monastery. The monastery was destroyed, but the Monument of Lysicrates remains to this day, 2351 years after it was built.

View of the street from the balcony of my hotel (click on photos for enlargements)

View of the Acropolis from the balcony of my hotel

The Monument of Lysicrates, built in 334 B.C.

After throwing my portmanteau in my room I headed straight for the Acropolis. The southern entrance was only a couple of hundred years from my hotel. I was prepared to pay the rather stiff tariff of €20 but was informed that admittance today was free. I did not bother to ask why but I assumed this was because it was Sunday. Entering the grounds I began to steep trudge to the summit, 511 feet about sea level. The southern hillside is heaped with ruins of ancient structures, most of them signposted, but in my haste to see the Parthenon I hurried by most of them. I did stop to gaze at the rebuilt Odeon (theatre) of Herodes Atticus. The theater was built by the Athenian business tycoon Herodes Atticus in 161 A.D. in memory of his wife Aspasia Annia Regila and originally seated about 5000 people. It was heavily damaged by the Neruli, a Germanic people from northern Europe who trashed Athens in 267 A.D., and lay in ruins for centuries. Not until the 1950s was the theater restored. One of the first big acts to appear in the refurbished theatre was the opera singer Maria Callas, main squeeze, along with Jacqueline Kennedy, of shipping tycoon Aristotle Onasis. Others who have performed here include Placido Domingo, Frank Sinatra, Dianna Ross,  Elton John (!) Jethro Tull (!!), and Liza Minelli (!!!).

Odeon of Herodes Atticus. To think, Liza Minelli once strode this stage.

Another view of the Odeon of Herodes Atticus. Definitely an Elton John venue.

Entrance to the Odeon of Herodes Atticus

Just above the theatre is the Propylia, the monumental gate opening onto the summit of the Acropolis. The summit area covers about seven acres. Directly ahead looms the Parthenon, built in honor of the of Goddess Athena, for whom Athens is named.  The construction of the Parthenon and other structures on the Acropolis were overseen by the great Athenian general Pericles. The famous sculptor Phidias, according to some sources, was in charge of building the Parthenon itself, and he employed the renowned architects Callicrates, Mnesikles, and Iktinos to come up with the actual plans. The first stone of the Parthenon was laid on 28 July 447 B.C. and it was completed nine years later in 438 B.C. I must admit the structure is much larger than the impression I had gotten from photos. It measure 228 by 101 and  originally had forty-six outer columns, each thirty-four feet high.

 The Parthenon

The Parthenon has had a checkered history. Athens later became part of the East Roman (Byzantine) Empire and under Constantine the Great (272-337 A.D.), founder of Constantinople (Istanbul), the city was Christianized. The Acropolis became a center of Christian worship and the Parthenon was eventually converted into a Byzantine church. In 1204, during the Fourth Crusade,  Franks and Venetians led by the Venetian Doge Enrico Dandalo captured Constantinople and Athens also came under their control. Under Frankish rule the Parthenon was turned into a Catholic cathedral. In 1453 Constantinople fell to the Ottoman Turks and after Athens became part of the Ottoman Empire the Parthenon was eventually converted into a mosque. Then in 1687 the Venetians tried to oust the Ottomans from Athens. The Parthenon was subjected to artillery fire and heavily damaged when munitions stockpiled within the building exploded. From 1800 to 1803 the notorious Englishman Thomas “Marbles” Bruce, the 7th Earl of Elgin, ransacked the ruins and carted off many of the surviving sculptures to England, where they eventually ended up in the British Museum. To so-called Elgin Marbles remain there today, although there has been concerted efforts by the Greek government, spearheaded by legendary Greek bombshell Melina Mercouri, to get them back. Not until the late twentieth century were serious efforts made to restore the Parthenon to its former glory, and the work is still continuing, as can be seen from the unsightly construction cranes on site.

The Parthenon

The Parthenon

View of Athens from the Acropolis. Mount Lycabettus, which I intend to ascend, can be seen in the middle.

View of Athens from the Acropolis

Italy | Venice | We Crociferi

I had intended to stay in Venice only three days, but once I was there I thought, what the heck, I am here, why rush off? I soon discovered, however, that the guesthouse where I was staying was all booked up and I could not keep my room any longer. Actually, after three days I was already tired of the place. It was located on an extremely quiet five-foot wide passageway, but this passageway opened out onto a busy shopping street lined with very upscale brand-name stores and white-tablecloth restaurants. There were no grocery stores or bakeries in the area and even the stand-at-the-counter coffee shops seemed expensive compared to other neighborhoods. While searching booking.com for new accommodations I noticed a place called We Crociferi in the Cannaregio district of Venice. The photo showed a huge white building in front on a long, narrow square. I realized I had walked by this building many times without realizing what it was. Apparently the building was an old monastery which had been refurbished and turned into a hotel. Sounded interesting, so I checked into this place.

We Crociferi on the right side of the square. Left of center is the entrance to the Church of the Gesuiti (Jesuits). (My photo; click on photos for enlargements.)

Church of the Gesuiti

Courtyard of the We Crociferi

Another view of the courtyard of the We Crociferi

Stairwells in the hotel; definitely a minimalist vibe

 Cafe in the hotel—more minimalism

The rooms were austere, but had great work desks and lights. Actually the rooms were originally designed as student digs.

The hotel was located just a few hundred feet from the Fondamente Nuove, a broad waterfront walkway along the northern lagoon.  The water-buses for the airport, the outlying islands, and other districts of the city all stop along the Fondamente Nove. Despite the hubbub on Fondamente Nuove the neighborhood is residential and surprising quiet. Just down the street from the square was a small grocery, obviously catering to locals, that had a good selection of cold cuts (a dozen or so different kinds of ham, salami, etc., a dozen or more kinds of cheese, and various fixings, plus fresh bread and rolls). A bit further on was a fruit and vegetable market with tangerines for one Euro a kilo and, thank goodness, pomegranates (I guess one could live without pomegranates but who would want to?).

A couple of more doors down was an even better find—a bulk wine store. The wine comes from huge glass jugs behind the counter. You bring your own bottle (used plastic water bottles are fine) or buy a plastic bottle for €.40 (42 cents US). The proprietor then siphons the wine into your bottle. A liter (1.05 quart) of Cabernet Franc costs €2.40 ($2.54); a liter of Pinot Noir €2.10. This, keep in mind, is in a city where a small glass of wine in even a scuzzy cantina costs four or five Euros, and you may have to stand to drink it; if you want to sit down it might cost six or seven Euros, and possibly even more in ritzier joints. And where even a lousy mug of watery beer costs three or four Euros, and that’s assuming you want to knock elbows with and get your shins kicked in by Low-Life Beer Drinkers. So the bulk wine is an incredible bargain in this notoriously expensive city. While I was there numerous neighborhood housewives were lining up for their daily liter. Wine is not a luxury for these people; it is a staple like bread or cornmeal. In the Venice of old even galley slaves got a daily ration of wine. Assured of provisions I settled into the We Crociferi.

Cyprus | Paphos | St. Paul’s Pillar

After an enlightening few days at We Crociferi in Venice I wandered on to Athens, Crete,  and Rhodes, before finally washing up in Larnaca, Cyprus.

 Cyprus (click on iamges for enlargements)

 

Statue of my man Xeno in Larnaca

After spending a day Getting Back In Touch With My Inner Stoic—as you probably know, Larnaca (then Kition) was the birthplace of the Greek philosopher Zeno (c.352 BC–c.255 BC), founder of Stoicism—I moved on to Paphos, at the western end of Cyprus Island. According to legend Aphrodite was born just up the coast from Paphos and I was eager to see her birthplace, but first I wandered by the church of Panagia Chrysopolitissa to see St. Paul’s Pillar.

Alleged route of Paul and Barnabas through Cyprus. This assumes they used roads built by the Romans to get from Salamis to Paphos. Their itinerary is not detailed in the Bible. 

Paul—he of Road To Damascus fame—and his sidekick Barnabas arrived on Cyprus in  45 or 46 AD, landing at Salamis, Barnabas’s birthplace. According to legend, they then proceeded to Kition, current-day Larnaca, where They Supposedly Met With Lazarus, who had washed up in Larnaca after Jesus of Nazareth, according to the Bible, had raised him from the dead. From Kition they moved along the coast to Paphos, where Paul was supposedly tied to a pillar and whipped for trying to preach Christianity to the locals. You will recall from your Bible studies that he mentions being whipped in Corinthians 2 11:24: “Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one,” but he does not say where. The pillar that Paul was tied to when he was whipped in Paphos—at least according to legend—still stands in front of the church of Panagia Chrysopolitissa.

 

 St. Paul’s Pillar (click on photos for enlargements)

 The Church of Panagia Chrysopolitissa, dating to about the fifteen century

 The church of Panagia Chrysopolitissa was built of the site of a much larger fourth century basilica. The columns of the old basilica can be seen here. This church was destroyed or heavily damaged by Arabs who invaded Cyprus in the eighth century. The graffiti that they carved on some of the columns can still be seen. 

Paul has of course gotten a lot of Bad Press lately:

“So because the Apostle Paul was a homophobic sexually insecure douchebag and authored the majority of the New Testament people are bound by his interpretation of bigoted hatred in order to fulfill the edict to live “‘good christian lives’”.

Aother Modern Commentator  considers him an insufferably misogynistic blowhard and gasbag who perverted the original teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. However, there is also the school of thought that maintains he was a secret Gnostic and that the books in the Bible which have given him such a bad name (especially Timothy II) are actually forgeries. For more on this tantalizing theory see Jesus and the Lost Goddess: The Secret Teachings of the Original Christians. For a debate of these various issues see Paul Behaving Badly: Was the Apostle a Racist, Chauvinist Jerk? If you want a novelistic treatment of Paphos at the time of Paul’s visit to the city see The Rose of Venus. The book is narrated by a follower of Aphrodite. Paul makes an appearance in the book and tries to convert the narrator to Christianity, but he, the narrator, is not convinced and remains true to the cult of Aphrodite to the end of his life.  Read the book to find out why.

Italy | Venice | St. Mark’s Basilica

The morning after the Full Moon I wandered by St. Mark’s Square again.

 Venice, with St. Mark’s Square in center, near the eastern end of the Grand Canal, which snakes its way through the big island (click on photos for enlargement)

St. Mark’s Square, with the basilica of St. Mark to the right. The big U-shaped building below the basilica is the Doge‘s Palace.

St. Mark’ Square, with the Basilica of St. Mark and the 323-foot high Campanile, or Bell Tower, at the far end. Snow had fallen the night before and was still a stiff damp wind whipping around the plaza.Thus the place was pretty much deserted.

Another view of  St. Mark’ Square

 A 1503 etching of St. Mark’s. Not much has changed.

 St. Mark’s Basicila

The first version of St. Mark’s was completed in 832. It had been built to house the relics of St. Mark, which had been stolen and spirited out of Alexandria, Egypt, in 828 by Venetian traders. This church burned in 976 and was later rebuilt. Not much is known about these early versions of the church. About 1063 a new version was constructed. Although oft-modified and added onto, the basic outline of this version has survived to the present day.

 Detail of St. Mark’s

 St. Mark’s Basilica

Some of the more than 500 hundred columns built into the church. Many were loot from elsewhere. It is not clear how many may have come from Constantinople.

 

Much of the stone plating on the outside of the walls was also looted from elsewhere, includung Constantinople.

Detail of stone plating

 The Pillars of Acre

The so-called Pillars of Acre are located in front of the southern wall of the Basilica. For a long time it was believed they were loot seized by the Venetians in 1258 during the sack of Acre, a seaport in what is now northern Israel. Later research determined that they were actually stripped from the Church of St Polyeuktos in Constantinople) during or shortly after the sack of the city the Venetians and their Crusader cohorts in 1204. The Church of St. Polyeuktos, built between 524 and 527, was commissioned and presumably paid for by the Byzantine princess Anicia Juliana in honor of St. Polyeuktos. Anicia Juliana was related on her mother’s side to Byzantine emperor Theodosius the Great, who was responsible for building the Theodosian Land Wall in Istanbul. The capitals of the columns here in Venice were found by archeologists when the ruins of the Church of St Polyeuktos were excavated in the 1990s. The columns were supposedly placed in their current location in 1258, which may be why it was long thought they were seized during the sack of Acre in the same year. For more on the provenance of the pillars see The Pillars of Acre: Masterpieces of A Proud Sixth-Century Princess.

 One of the Column of Acre

 Detail of the one of the columns

 Detail of the one of the columns

 At one corner of the church, where it joins the Doge’s  Palace, stand the so-called Tetrarchs. 

Carved from Porphyry, a kind of granite, the statues, according to one theory, represent the four joint rulers of the Roman Empire during the time of Emperor Diocletian (r. 284–305). In 286 Diocletian appointed his fellow army officer Maximian as co-ruler of the empire, and then in 293 he appointed Galerius and Constantius  as junior co-emperors. Thus the Roman Empire was ruled by a 'tetrarchy', or "group of four”. The statues originally stood in the Philadelphion (Place of Brotherly Love) in Constantinople, however, which has lead to speculation that the statutes actually represent the four sons of Emperor Constantine, founder of Constantinople, who were famous for cooperating when their father died in 337. In any case, the statues were looted during the 1204 show in Constantinople and brought back here to Venice, where they were embedded in the wall of St. Mark’s.

 The Tetrarchs

 The Tetrarchs

 The Tetrarchs

During the looting of the statues one foot was broken off. When the statues got to Venice the missing foot was replaced by a white stone foot. Amazingly the broken-off foot was eventually found and can now be seen in a museum in Istanbul.

 Walking back to my guesthouse I spotted this Chinese couple celebrating their wedding in a gondola.

 Get a room!

My guesthouse is located on this narrow passageway. Actually it is a large apartment that has been separated into four rooms: a bed and breakfast without the breakfast. Very cozy however, and each room has is own espresso maker!