Yesterday we were in Italy. This morning we woke up in Greece. Such is the cruisin’ life! During the night, the ship made its way from Bari to the tiny port of Katakolon, Greece. We’re here because Katakolon is the gateway to Olympia, where the first Olympic games were held. So grab your toga! Let’s go see Olympia!
Katakolon has a deep-water harbor, making it the perfect jumping-off point for cruise ships full of people who want to see Olympia. Other than that, there doesn’t appear to be much going on down here at the southeastern side of the Peloponnese peninsula.
Where is the Peloponnese Peninsula?
So where in the world are we? If you head south from eastern Europe, say, Hungary, you’d pass through Serbia, then Macedonia, then you’d arrive in this part of Greece. Italy lies due west of here. Turkey is due east.
This peninsula was an important part of ancient Greece. But before “Ancient Greece” became the “Ancient Greece” we think of, this peninsula and the surrounding region was under the control of a handful of city-states.
Like city-states everywhere back in the day, they didn’t always get along. But their mutual fear and respect for the Persian Empire, which was geographically way too close for comfort, had the effect of uniting them.
Two of the most powerful of these city-states were Sparta and Athens. They duked it out in a 30-year conflict known today as the Peloponnesian war. You may recall this event from your 8th grade history class. Everyone who wasn’t paying attention in class missed this question on the test: “Who won the Peloponnesian war?”
You had no idea, so you made an educated, (or in this case, an uneducated), guess: the Peloponnesians! Wrong!
So who did win the Peloponnesian war? Had to be Athens, right? Wrong again! Sparta won. Sparta was the Big Dog on the block in this region before Greece got it together.
On to Olympia
Long before Sparta and Athens tangled, three city-states made an agreement to stop fighting each other, at least for a while. To help seal the truce, they’d all participate in a big sporting event which would take place in Olympia. That was way back in the 8th century BC.
The ruins at Olympia are a twenty mile drive from Katakolon. To get there, we disembarked, then boarded a big, air-conditioned tour bus.
Riding through the Greek countryside, we passed fields, groves of olive trees, and the occasional farmhouse. It looked like we could have been anywhere, except for the road signs. They didn’t look like the billboards back home. Someone on the bus called out, “What the heck does that sign say?”
Someone else answered, “I don’t know… it’s all Greek to me!”
Ah… so we have a comedian on the bus. I’m just glad that guy thought of it before me, because I probably would have said the same thing.
Gypsies!
We left the farms and fields behind and entered into rougher terrain. Now the road was lined with dry brush and scraggly trees. We went around a corner and there, nestled in a ravine off the side of the road was a Gypsy camp.
Wow. Smoke from a few fires in the camp rose up through the trees. A guy on a horse-drawn, two-wheeled cart was entering on the dusty path to the camp. I felt like if we’d time-traveled back 500 years, the scene wouldn’t have looked much different.
I didn’t know this was Gypsy country. Gypsies, (or more formally, Romani or Roma), are a group unlike any other. Historically, they prefer to be nomadic, but this encampment looked reasonably well-established.
We’ve seen our share of Gypsies in European cities, usually with some degree of trepidation. Their skills at separating one from one’s money are legendary. Having been pick-pocketed myself, by Gypsies in Italy, I can attest to their expertise! (See Robbed at Cinque Terre).
Seeing them in this environment was different than seeing them in the streets of a European city. The encampment, with its wagons, horses, fires, and kids running around looked like a home – their home.
There’s something mysterious about a Gypsy camp. I wonder if they’ll be playing music tonight, dancing in the firelight, and carrying on. I wish I could hitch a ride back here tonight, approach the camp with the utmost stealthiness, and observe a bit of Gypsy life up close. But that’s probably not going to happen.
Meanwhile, on to Olympia!
To be continued…
