Avernus

O-kay, blogging, let's go let's go with the energy!!!

*zonks quietly*

If the entire course is as tiring as this week, I'm going to end up sleeping for at least a fortnight straight when I get home @_@

Right, so today was the field trip to South Attika, which is not an area I've ever visited before. They chivvied us out of the hostal by about 8am, which was Bad, but then decanted us into one of the best minibuses I've ever been in, which was Good, so I guess it balances. The driver was a bit Athenian, if you see what I mean, but the poor sod had to actually drive in Athens, so I guess that was probably for the best. I wouldn't wish driving in Athens on my worst enemy.

First temple was a distinctly domestic job, stuck incongruously in the grounds of a terribly posh looking hotel. Apparently last time they visited the place it was under about six inches of mud, so thank god for the recent stretch of dry weather. I may have brought shoe polish with me, but there are some things that even shoe polish can't cure. Next temple on the agenda was the distinctly un-domestic and rather ostentatiously striking temple of Poseidon at Sounion (*squints at picture* Y'know, they must actually have been standing on the Hellenistic fortification walls to take that shot...). It's on the Cape Sounion, which is the pointy bit right at the bottom of Attica - the point where you start turning north towards the Piraeus (Athens' harbour) when skirting the coast. And of course, fifth century Athens being fifth century Athens meant that they felt they had to stick an *enormous* great temple on it, made out of bright white marble and sticking right out on the headland, where *every* ship can't possibly miss it. Ahhhh, Periclean Athens. You publicity whores you.

(I should possibly also note that the coast round here is pretty scenic looking to drive along, though as per usual defaced by the Greek people's incomprehensible approach to building aesthetics. I mean, I know it's not exactly the best-off country in Europe, the rural areas even more so than the cities, but nevertheless - there must be *some* alternative to badly-painted and stained concrete with iron rods sticking out of it. *Everywhere*. The concept of 'urban sprawl is bad' totally has never struck Greece.)

Next stop was Thourikos, which is mainly notable for its veryveryold Greek theatre (well, veryveryold by Greek theatre standards anyway), but the peculiar charm of which lies in the way the Greek theatre is right next to a big old ancient industrial complex for silver refining. It's very much the same principle as picturesque chapels in Welsh villages right next to enormous great slag heaps. It was one of those lovely sites where they've excavated great amounts of it, and you get to clamber over all of it :D I love clambering over Greek theatres, it's good sport. Hands-on history is definitely the way forward.

And the final stop - the sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron. This is where selected girls from noted Athenian families, at about the age of 8 or 10, used to spend a couple of years essentially at boarding school, and dressing up as little bears to take part in cult celebration. Yup, bears. No, we don't know why. As with so many things in Greek religion, I am discovering, the best answer is usually 'it seemed like a good idea, for some reason.' There were also many twee statues of small children holding rabbits and little birds and things of that sort, which I felt were the sort of spiritual forebear of Hallmark cards. Nice.

And then in the evening was a reception to 'welcome the new post-graduate students to the school', which largely involved standing around and making slightly stilted conversation with the people who run the course, drinking wine and trying to corner the hors d'oeuvres. (Well, I hadn't eaten, I had an excuse.) After which we retired to the common room and made considerably less stilted conversation, aided by GIN, which as all such conversations are wont to do devolved into which 80s cartoons formed our childhood memories. I managed to produce two 'oh my god, I thought I'd hallucinated the telepathic flying goldfish and the plant monsters with the saw blades!' reactions, so I feel I did my bit. Also, there are some people here who know entirely too many words to the opening theme of Dogtanian.

The blog title was just because I just read the line in Seven Soldiers: Zatanna and thought it was ace.