Δελφοί

Apparently the journey to/from the center of the WORLD involves spinal duress and a mismanaged bus system, including a fat hairy man sitting on your lap. But it’s worth it!

Our canine philosophers snuck us out of the Acropolis before noon, evading the barbarians at the gate. And not a moment too soon; locusts of American and Asian tour guides were already feeding on the Propylaea steps.

The trip to Delphi was mostly limbs thrashing and teeth gnashing while a retired Greyhound sputtered and coughed around the Peloponnese. I found it a little disturbing that my pilgrimage to the “navel” (omphalos) of the world was probably more unpleasant than it was 4000 years ago, but I splayed and wriggled on my half cushion until a serene tableau opened before us. tabl-whoa.

I approached the oracle at Delphi like I do fortune cookies and karma: a secret semi-reverence, just in case. The ruins seemed in good humor, and as we tiptoed around the temple, a butterfly rushed out of the rocks, spun around me, and flit away. This either means I passed the bar — or should resort to Entomology. Tricky oracle.



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Check out my Delphi pictures here. Or view more philfiles posts about Greece and my bar trip.

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