Itea

From the Moleskine, 6/5/08

We are in Itea, a tiny coastal town, the first stop on our cruise. I am at a sidewalk café surrounded by the local old men; the noise of traffic passing blends with their chatter and the clatter of Komboloi tumbling through aged fingers. The wind here on the coast is strong, rushing down from the mountains that ring this tiny village. We are headed to Delphi for the first part of our afternoon – Sonia will tour the ancient ruins and I will sit and read, as I have seen Delphi three times already.

On the bus to Delphi, we pass through the valley of a million olive trees. Their ancient trunks and heavily laden green branches rush past in a blur. We round a corner up the hill and the full reach of the groves opens up outside my window. Trees stretch out to the coast, filling a vast expanse of ancient land. Sonia gasps at the view and I have to laugh at how good the most simple things can be.

I am sitting outside the entrance to ancient Delphi, waiting on Sonia to come down from the Temple of Apollo. It is funny to think that I have been here four times now; it is such a random place to have frequented at 22 years old. The view is stunning, the hills and the mountains seem wise – they have seen so much history unfold about them. I can see how the ancients could have considered this the center of the world – there is an unearthly feeling about the place, a sort of calm that I have never experienced anywhere else. Surrounded by these rocks and trees, it feels as if we are witnessing the entire span of time in one space. I like it up here, and am glad to be back once more.

At a hillside café in Delphi still, the moment is lovely. Louis Armstrong is playing in the background as I sit here taking in the unreal view of the valley below. It is a heady afternoon – the heat is not quite oppressive enough to be bothersome and I am lost in my thoughts as Sonia explores the Temple of Athena Pronaia.

I’m sitting by the seaside in Itea as the light fades; the sun slowly sinks behind the mountains. Itea has a very nostalgic air about it, as if you can sense what the town used to be, when traveling by boat was the normal way of reaching Delphi. It reminds me of Wilmington when I was growing up, but now it feels neglected, as if it is aching for what it once was. The old men sit in cafes lining the streets and the women still walk around in traditional black garb. They are a throwback to the way things used to be, utterly distinct from the younger generations. When they finally fade, what will be left to remind us of the tradition, of the way things used to be when times were simpler?

~RLM