24 April 2007

Ephesus


Another short little hop across the Aegean takes us out of Greek waters and brings us to the mainland of Turkey.


This is Pigeon Island, which I assume is so called because is has a lot of pigeons. In the distance are some Greek islands. Yesterday we were on Rhodes looking across at the Turkish mainland - today we are on the Turkish mainland looking out across the water to the islands of Greece. These two nations live in close proximity.


By sunrise (which, according to the schedule occurs at 06h24) we're already docked alongside another cruise ship - a TUI cruise ship, it seems. This is the first other cruise ship that we've seen on this trip, come to think of it. There must be some wisdom to my decision to visit before the heat and bustle of summer.


Yesterday afternoon during the captain's daily announcements from the bridge he mentioned something about the amount of sediment on the outside parts of the ship. Apparently in this part of the world the winds carry a lot of dust and dirt off the Greek islands and carry it with them, which inevitably falls onto the ship (which probably helps explain the haze we've been noticing). The authorities in ports don't allow the ships to do extensive hosing off while in port so the crew tries its best to keep things clean while at sea. The captain also said they'd tried to find a nice rain storm overnight to sail through and wash the ship off. At any rate, they've apparently been up early today hosing off the back pool deck of the ship.


One of the officers pauses to enjoy the morning from the upper deck of the ship.


On a nearby hill an imposing statue looks over the town below. I am going to assume that this is a statue of Ataturk. On my previous visit to Turkey I noticed a bit of an obsessive preoccupation with their enlightened leader and founder of the post World War One era. Not that Ataturk was not a great person, of course. The fact that a nation that borders on Iraq and Syria is so laid-back in its approach to life and religion is owed very much to him and I think we can all be thankful for that. But that doesn't change the fact that it's still a bit weird to have pictures, statues, paintings, etc of him ALL OVER THE PLACE. In my previous experiences in Turkey I could only compare it to Lenin or Chairman Mao and their omnipresent faces in the lives of people in the former Soviet Union and even present-day China.


The sun pokes over the mountains in the distance. That's where we're headed today - to the ancient city of Ephesus.


Ephesus was once a major port city, but as seems to be the case for many ancient port cities in this part of the world it is located nowhere near the water nowadays. And so we must set off for ancient Ephesus from the city of Ku?adasi.

I can remember, ten years ago, standing at the ruins at Troy - another Greek city located in Turkey - and wondering where the ocean was at since, as I understood it, the Greek navy played a role in the attack on Troy. It's on a big hill and you can see quite far from there, and yet no ocean anywhere. It's either a big scam, these ancient writings, or the land has risen (or water levels dropped). There's an argument in favour of Global Warming. We're just returning to the water levels of ancient times.

Then again... there are those small ancient pyramids on the islands of the Maldives that are now UNDER water. Maybe that land is sinking and Turkey is rising?


After a very early breakfast it's off the ship again and heading for a bus that will take us inland.


A view back along the dock shows us the relative sizes of the TUI cruise ship as compared to the Veendam. Not that bigger is better, but as I might have observed earlier in the trip I think I prefer the larger Holland America ship that we took to Alaska (the Zuiderdam) over the Veendam. They are both very very similar, of course, but somehow the larger a ship gets it seems and the more passengers that are onboard that there's noticeably more (not less) space and privacy per passenger.


Fast forward quite a bit and the drive up into the mountains of Turkey and we arrive at a short stop before we go to see Ephesus. This is place where the Virgin Mary once had her home after the crucifixion of Jesus.


A sign helpfully points the way toward Mary's House.

Now why is it, you might ask, that Jesus's mother would end up living in Turkey on top of a big mountain and how could they possibly know such a thing? And isn't all just a big scam by the locals (such as were common in the past 2000 years) to generate tourism?

Well, a big scam it may be, but according to the bible Jesus asked John to take care of his mother before he died. The bible further relates that when the apostles went out into the world to spread the teachings of Jesus that John was assigned this part of the world as his Area Of Responsibility. That John lived in the area of Ephesus is confirmed by the fact that he apparently died here since it is here that his tomb is located (we'll go there later).

So, as you can see, the logic and evidence is irrefutable! Up here on top of this mountain at this very spot is where Jesus's mother (the Virgin Mary) lived out the last days of her life!


It's all a bit of typical religious deduction for you. Of course, while the Virgin Mary may well have lived in this area with St John (bearing in mind that as far as I know no one ever writes about it actually happening) it's much further leap to decide that this was the actual spot where she lived. But have no fear, because they have rock-solid evidence about that as well. As you can see from the sign, it is thanks to the visions of an invalid nun from the 1800s who never left Germany that they were able to locate this place and build a profitable tourist shrine here on the ruins of what was probably an earlier profitable tourist shrine.

Still skeptical? For more information please write to:

The American Society Ephesus, Inc.
327 North Elizabeth Street
Lima, Ohio
45801
USA

They'll tell you what to believe, I am sure.


At any rate, it's not what is actually true that is as important as what people believe to be true. And obviously people here for many many many centuries have believed that this is where the Virgin Mary lived. Here we see the foundations of an old church of some kind. It is not clear what this depression in the ground might have been, perhaps a baptismal pool?


And so we arrive at the shrine built on the spot where the Virgin Mary is said to have once lived.


Once inside the nuns don't allow anyone to take pictures. So I take some surreptitiously instead. I ain't gonna let no nuns tell me what to do.

Here we see one of the nuns telling someone how to approach the altar, by crawling up on your knees.



As you can see it's actually quite a low-key affair, considering that this was the mother of god, after all. It also makes me question what they might have thought that this place was before the 1800s and the invalid German nun decided that it was where the Virgin Mary lived. Think about it. St Peter's in Rome is a enormous construction dating back centuries. Even here in Ephesus the Basilica of St John nearby (which we'll see later) is a gigantic building. And of course Peter and John were just two of the apostles. This is the mother of god, the Virgin Mary herself. Where is the gigantic basilica? And it's not because it's on top of a mountain either, because it ain't that big of a mountain and besides which there are plenty of other gigantic constructions nearby.

I suspect that during the gigantic basilica constructing years that this place may have been thought to be something else entirely because I would think that the home of the Virgin Mary would have inspired much more building than is evident here. But what do I know? We have the proof in black and white on the sign at the entrance, after all.


Here you can drink water from the spring that flows from the ground underneath the home of the Virgin Mary. I'll pass on that, I think. I blame the Italians for my being sick the last time I was in Turkey, but I don't care to repeat the experience.


Wherever there are shrines there is often stuff like this. These strips of cloth seem to have prayers on them. Something about it reminds me of a cross between the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem (where they stuff written prayers into the cracks between the stones) and the fences lining the World Trade Centre site in New York City (where they put up all sorts of remembrances).


And down below are the bathrooms. A man stands at a urinal taking a picture of the landscape below (hopefully AFTER zipping up).


Of course any view so great that one takes a picture from a urinal I have to check out. I forget that I have been Europeanised a bit and no longer think twice about urinating in public and so I snap a picture while this guy next to me is happily whizzing away and looking out at the view.


It is a pretty good view though, don't you think? Way over there in the distance is the ocean.


Leaving the Virgin Mary's house behind us we now make our way down the mountain a bit and to the site of ancient Ephesus.


Down there in that little valley toward the left side is what remains of the city of Ephesus.


Ephesus, as you can see, is both a dog and a cat kind of town.


Let's check out what this sign has to say about Ephesus.


As you can see, according to the sign, the city of Ephesus goes back a long way, although it was at its pinnacle during the Greek and Roman eras when it had an astounding population of 200.000 people.


We begin our stroll through the ancient world at the South-East corner of the site and will continue toward the North-West. It is another beautifully clear day today, as you can see.


Perhaps a map orientation might help? There's not much to this map, but you can be sure that I'll share a different one later once we've seen some stuff. Anyway, as I said, we're going to start down at the South-East corner of the site and walk toward the North-West and to roughly the top left area of this map.


And what fun is map orientation without a bit of Google Earth satellite map orientation at the same time? Seen from space it is clear that a trek through ancient Ephesus is more or less a linear path. The way we'll follow to get from one end to the other is fairly obvious, I think, so I won't bother with drawing a big ugly purple line. (Purple is the colour I would have used, you see.)


There are many poppies growing all around here in Ephesus.


Of course, with a population of 200.000 people the city of Ephesus had to be MUCH larger than what is nowadays uncovered and restored. Looking up this hillside the ground seems to be uneven and perhaps covers many other un-excavated ruins underneath.


Some kind of system of clay pipes is visible in some places in the ground underneath our feet.


Some stacks of clay piping and other assorted ruins in a pile along the path.


Some columns. I bet we see a lot of those today (and the next day... and the next...). Why is it that all that's left of these ancient civilisations is columns? Greek and Roman anyway. At least the Egyptians built stuff that lasted.


On the ground is a slab of marble with X's and O's carved into it. What is it? I have no idea. But it's kind of cool, don't you think? Imagine the dude who carved these symbols thousands of years ago. Why did he do it? What does it mean? If these locals weren't so annoying and bothering me to buy stuff I might have asked one of them.


Making our way along one of the ancient streets of Ephesus. It takes a bit of imagination to picture what it was like here thousands of years ago. To the right side we had some different government buildings and off to the left was the site of the Agora. Nowadays I suppose we'd call this kind of open space by different names (every city in Europe has them). Whatever you call them - squares, plein, platz, piazza, etc - they are often used as places where people meet, usually at some café type of place.

Coming from Canada, as I do, this idea of squares as meeting places would be a bit weird if I were to think about it. The idea that ancient Greeks or Romans stood around in open spaces "meeting" with each other sounds a bit boring. Didn't they have anything better to do? I mean, there were baths and brothels and libraries around. Why would you stand around talking? And who likes other people so much as to enjoy that? Or is that just my anti-social nature influencing my thinking?

Anyway, the point is that it seems to me in North America an open square is something that you walk across to get somewhere else not somewhere that you go to meet with other people. This might also have something to do with the fact that in North America café or restaurant owners don't just throw some tables and chairs on the street and serve people on them. Probably there exist a maze of city ordinances and healthy regulations that prohibit this kind of thing as well. But in Europe any little restaurant will throw a couple of tables and chairs on the sidewalk outside and call that their outdoor seating. This kind of cultural difference dates back to the ancient Agoras, I bet.


Seen from space it's a bit easier to orient ourselves. The red circle marks where the picture we just saw was taken, looking down along the length of the street. The location of the nearby theatre is obvious from this aerial view. This kind of theatre is what we'd dumb North Americans call an "amphitheatre", except that of course "amphi" (as in "amphibian") means that there are two things and that an "amphitheatre" is actually a circular construction that is basically two "theatres" stuck together. A half theatre like the one we see here is actually just called a "theatre". But that doesn't sound as exotic, I guess. The word "amphitheatre" conjures up images of ancient Greeks going to watch Oedipus Rex and lends an air of sophistication.


Whatever you call it - theatre or amphitheatre - we now climb the steps up into the so-called Odeion (the name of which itself comes down through the ages and is still used as "odeon"). The Odeion was used not only as a theatre but also as a meeting chamber for members of the local government.


The view from the stage of the Odeion with the floor seats (or mosh pit, if you prefer) directly in front and seats for 1400 more spectators beyond. If you look around the floors here at the bottom of the theatre you can see that there aren't any water drainage gutters in evidence which probably means that the original structure had a roof of some kind.


Continuing down along the streets of Ephesus I manage to take a photo with not a single human being visible anywhere. I admit that I often try to be tricky and take pictures where it looks like there is no one else around, but here at Ephesus there are so many other people around that I would have thought such a thing to be impossible. But apparently not.


Some more columns up ahead where we are headed now.



A side entrance leading up into the Odeion. Probably this was the way one had to go in the old days, as opposed to walking straight up onto centre stage as I just did from street level through the ruins.


A close up of the "fluting" on one of the columns. It seems like an awful lot of work to do that, but they sure did a nice straight job of it.


Here we see a good example of the various architectural styles that can be found among the ruins here at Ephesus.

People are often concerned about what type a particular column is and know the ways to tell one from another. Personally I find the types of minarets found on various mosques to be more interesting, but maybe that's just me.

Anyway, these three columns are examples of the three main Greek types of columns: Ionic, Corinthian and Doric (from left to right in this picture). The Ionic (far left) having the scroll looking bits on the top, the Corinthian (centre) having the leaves on the top bit, and the Doric (far right) having none of that stuff and a more simple top bit.

Of course, column elitists would probably say that the one on the right isn't really Doric because it's too fancy, and that it's actually Ionodorinthian (or whatever) in style, and that they aren't called "top bits" they are actually referred to as "capitals". But I think we can safely ignore such people because anyone who commits so much of their life to knowing about columns is clearly mentally unbalanced and probably spends their time meeting people on the Agora or in the Library reading about columns.


And for all the column enthusiasts out there, we have some more columns. But how do we know what kind they once were if we cannot see their top bits? Well, they are fluted so probably they are Greek. And they have bases to them so they are not Doric. And at least a couple of them are pretty narrow, which may suggest that they are Corinthian. So even these fragments tell us something about the columns that once were.


Which brings us to the remains of what was called the Prytaneion. The sign here says that this is the "Precinct for Artemis and the Emperor", which was also located here (although my guidebook refers to it as the Temples of the Goddess Rome and Divine Caesar). As you can see all the ruins here are sort of jumbled up and its difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins.

At any rate, the part off to the left is what I think is the Prytaneion, so called because it was attended to by the "Prytan" who was a sort of mayor to the city and whose job it was to keep the ceremonial flame burning in this building as it had for centuries. How much do you wanna bet that it actually went out a few times during those centuries and they just re-lit it without telling anyone?


Following the street down you can get an idea of how many other people are here today to visit Ephesus. It is definitely a popular destination.


A row of columns lines the side of this street. No flutes on these columns. Does that make them Roman? I think it does.


Descending down to a lower level of Ephesus, in among the ruins.


I believe that these are the remains of what was called the Memmius Monument. But it's all a jumble in places.


This photo and the one that follows are interesting because of the carvings on these stones. Somewhere in this vicinity must have been what we'd call the hospital of Ephesus, as well as the Apothecary. This sign, quite obviously, marked the location of the Apothecary.


And just across from the Apothecary sign is the "Hospital" sign, using the ancient symbology for the art of medicine.


And here we reach what marked the Eastern end of the Agora and Domitian Square, so called because it was the location of the Temple of Domitian (the ruins at the right half of the picture). It was also the location of the Pollio Fountain (the ruins at the right half of the picture) where water flowed down into a pool from above on the left side where the Agora was located.

It takes a bit of imagination, doesn't it? But maybe that group of people in the photo are using their imaginations as they look at the former Pollio Fountain.


I am always amazed by all the bits of ruins lying around in a big mess in places like Ephesus. All this carved stone that was once important and meant something now lying around broken on the ground. Although I suspect that the writings and carvings on these stones were probably more or less ignored, even though they represented a lot of work to create. It's not like people nowadays pay much attention to fancy details on the walls and doors of buildings as they walk past.


Domitian Square is now the home of one of the most photographed bits of ruin here at Ephesus. This is a carving of a winged Nike figure that was apparently once part of the The Gate of Hercules (which we'll pass through in a few minutes, so remember this picture). If you squint your eyes a bit you can see that the shape resembles the modern day Nike symbol (as in the shoe company).


So now we'll continue down the hill a bit further and into a new section of the city.


Before we move on let's just recap with another satellite map orientation showing some of the stuff we just saw and the approximate route we took through the city.


And so we start to make our way through the Gate of Hercules and down the Street of the Curetes which leads all the way down through the city to the Celsus Library. The Curetes were apparently a group of priests whose goal was to recreate the birth of Artemis here in Ephesus, although why they would want to do that I am not sure and my guidebook does not say.


Since we're entering a new section of the city, it makes sense to have another satellite map, don't you think? I like satellite maps. Although this area of the city is not all that interesting as seen from the air. At any rate, we can see the Street of the Curetes that connects the upper part of the city of Ephesus ruins to the lower part. Our current location at the Gate of Hercules is marked with the red circle.


And this is the Gate of Hercules. According to legend, if you touch both pillars as you pass through you will be endowed with the strength of Hercules. Legend also probably has it that no one has actually experienced this phenomena but that it makes for a cute thing to tell tourists.

You might also notice a lack of people in this photo. With all the people swarming around I am quite proud of myself that I am able to snap a few pictures where it looks like we're walking around Ephesus all by ourselves. Part of the trick to this is finding an angle so that people are hidden behind stuff. The other part is kind of like trying to make a left turn onto a busy street. No matter how busy the street is, there will always eventually be a tiny break in the traffic when you can floor it and get through. (Not that I want to spend my life standing around tourist sites waiting for the perfect moment to take a picture.)

But getting this photo without people in it was extra tricky, as you can imagine, with all the people walking through the gate and pausing to touch both pillars and have their picture taken. But just like making a left turn there was a half second where no one would be in the frame, so I took advantage of it. That said, however, I will admit to you that although I got this picture almost virtually tourist-free, there was still some dude's arm in the picture that I removed digitally. (Bet you can't guess where....)


And so we continue down the Street of the Curetes toward the Celsus Library in the distance.


As an important street in the ancient city of Ephesus, the Street of the Curetes contains many statues and impressive edifices. This is some guy with no head.


A cat takes some shelter in the shade on an elegantly carved piece of marble.


This would be the top bit of a Corinthian column. I find the Corinthian style to be a little bit girly. A column is supposed to be a manly thing. It's like putting lace curtains up in the garage.


Although we are seeing examples of both Greek and Roman architecture among the ruins here at Ephesus, we don't see much Roman writing. In fact, I haven't seen any at all thus far. I guess the reason for that is the simple fact that in most of the Roman empire they didn't use Latin as their normal language and used the language of the empire that proceeded it, which was Greek. Accepting this as fact leads to all sorts of religious implications, of which I will spare you my ideas and thoughts. But I still find it interesting that we have some Roman style columns on top of a base with Greek writing on it.


See? More Greek writing and no Latin script to be seen anywhere. This picture is also interesting because in it you can see an example of a hybrid sort of column style. Just to the left of the slab with the writing on it you can see some short square columns with a kind of Ionic-Corinthian style (combination of the scroll things with leaves).


This is the ruins of Trajan's Fountain, which has apparently been restored at a slightly lower height than it originally stood. Originally the central part stood more than 12 metres high and held a big statue of the emperor Trajan on the base that we see here.

To me the Roman Emperor Trajan must have been a pretty impressive guy because for those that REALLY pay attention to my Travelogues you might remember that he comes up rather frequently in my travels. For example, on the last trip to Rome you may recall that we stayed in a hotel just behind Trajan's Markets. And of course the statue outside of the Tower Hill underground station in London (that we saw, most recently, a couple months ago) is of Emperor Trajan. Statues of him are found from England to Turkey and beyond. Thinking about that reminds us of just exactly what a massive empire the Romans had.


Across the street from Trajan's Fountain are some remains of various houses built into the side of the hill. This part of town must have been for the very wealthy as the location is extremely good and apparently many of the houses were originally three storeys tall (which seems like a lot to me for ancient times) and had central heating.


Another sign of the wealthiness of the home owners along the Street of the Curetes is the mosaic flooring that we can see here.


Continuing down along the street we find some more Greek writing and poppies, which I thought made for an interesting picture.


Some ancient steps lead up to some more ruins beyond.


Just down the street from Trajan's Fountain is another monument - the Temple of Hadrian. I don't really understand the whole "Temple" thing. Fountains I can understand. If I were a Roman Emperor there would be Fountains of Iain all over the place, with giant statues of myself looking trim and muscular adorning their façades. A fountain is practical. You can wash your face in it. You can have a drink from it. But a Temple? That's just pure ego.

Anyway, the interesting thing about the Temple of Hadrian is what is carved into the semi-circular thing at the top of the arch. If you look closely you will see that the figure is Medusa.

You'd think that if you put Medusa so prominently on a Temple like this that that would make it the Temple of Medusa, not the Temple of Hadrian.


Another view of the Temple of Hadrian/Medusa and me trying to be fancy and artistic.


And so we reach the bottom end of the Street of the Curetes and we look back along where we just came. At the left is the Temple of Hadrian/Medusa with Trajan's Fountain out of sight behind it. At the right are some of the remains of the residential area and houses. And way up at the top in the distance is the Gate of Hercules.


Reaching the bottom of the Street of the Curetes we arrive in what I think of as the Entertainment District of the city of Ephesus. Walking up some stairs find a passage that should lead us to the Baths of Skolastica (Scholastic Baths?). Nearby is the local Bordello or Brothel or whatever you wish to call it. And just around the corner down the Street of the Curetes is the Celsus Library. Swimming, Sex and Reading. Now, that's entertainment!


I took a picture of this sign in the hopes that I could later decipher what it represented. But I have no idea. Some thing holding dead things out for some dogs?!??


In the heart of the Entertainment District are the public toilets of Ephesus. Here you would come and rub cheeks with your neighbours before taking a bath and going whoring, I suppose.


The view from the ruins of the public toilets is impressive and looks out over some of the ruins of the Brothel.


The view from the other end of the public toilets looks down toward the Celsus Library, where we shall now go.


Some very well preserved giant tablets are located here in the heart of the Entertainment District of Ephesus and contain some kind of pronouncement about taxation, presumably placed here and in such large form as to ensure that everyone saw them.


The text of the pronouncement, if you care to read it, but I think it can be summed up by saying that the Emperor wants more money and the locals should stop ripping him off and send him his due so he can be the one to squander it on useless extravagances instead of them.


It is a little known fact that the ancient Ephesians were the ones who actually invented LEGO.


According to the sign this is the Tomb of the Founder Androclus. I thought it was interesting because of its use of crosses. It reminds me of Rhodes, a bit, which feels like so long ago at this point even though it was only yesterday. I think it was yesterday, anyway. Was it? It's all a blur.


Some more Greek writing. How did they write so straight? It looks like it was typed by a big stone carving typewriter.


Here we see the remains of a giant gate at the end of the Marble Street that leads (behind us) to the Theatre of Ephesus.


And so we finally arrive at the Celsus Library. This is a rather good shot, I think. It has some cool elements to it and, of course, has no people visible in it.


Among the ruins at Ephesus the Celsus Library really stands out because it is in such good shape and towers much higher than everything else.


Most of the other ruins consist of a few reconstructed pillars and your imagination has to fill in the rest. But the Celsus Library requires much less imagination to picture it as it was thousands of years ago.


But before we head down to the library we stop for a rest in a bit of shade. The sun is rather merciless, although the temperature is not so hot this time of year - maybe 21 or 22 degrees.


I thought it might be artsy to take this picture with the foreground out of focus, and the background in focus. Not really. It's kind of dumb this way. But that's what digital cameras are for, I guess. Dumb pictures.


Before we head down to the Library we take a look along the Marble Street toward the Theatre of Ephesus at the very end. This picture was easy to take with no people walking on the street because they don't allow people to walk down this way at the moment. That said, however, there are some huge construction cranes over at the site of the theatre. But you can't see them in this picture because I removed them digitally. (Bet you can't see where...)


And so we descend down to the square in front of the Celsus Library.


Standing in front of the façade of the Celsus Library you really appreciate what a towering structure it is.


Statues adorn niches at the front of the library, and as you can see the pillars are non-fluted and made of some fancy marble with Corinthian-Ionic top bits. What any of that means in an archaeological sense, I have no idea.


I think when I erect statues to my own glory that I will make sure that the heads are properly secured. I don't want headless statues of me to be un-Earthed in 2000 years.


You might wonder why we aren't seeing the inside of the Celsus Library. That would be because there actually isn't anything inside. The façade is the impressive thing about it. Inside there isn't anything. It is an empty shell. A metaphor for the powers that built it, perhaps?

The "Celsus" to which the name of the library refers was a Roman who was apparently the head of public buildings in Rome who later became the governor of Roman Asia and lived in Ephesus. The library was constructed as a mausoleum to him by his son. The statues that line the front of the library are tributes to his virtues in the form of legendary figures: Wisdom of Sophia, Knowledge of Episteme, Intelligence of Ennoia and the Virtue of Arete.

I think that it is ironic that of all the ruins at Ephesus that the one that visitors are most impressed by is not one of the Temples or Fountains of the great and powerful emperors, but rather that of a lower official, a mere provincial governor.


We now will pass through the Mazeus Mithridates Gate and into another Agora of the ancient city of Ephesus.


Passing through the gate and looking back at the façade of the Celsus Library.


As we pass through another section of the city of Ephesus perhaps it is time for another satellite map orientation. I've marked on this image the locations of a few of the things we've just seen as well as where we're now headed. We are now walking toward the Theatre of Ephesus along the Eastern end of the Lower Agora parallel to the Marble Street which is clearly visible as a band of bright white in this satellite image.

From the Lower Agora we look back toward the Celsus Library and see it from the side. As you can see the slim façade is less impressive in profile than it is as seen straight on.


Here we see the overgrown ruins of the Lower Agora where a bustling market would have been many centuries ago. If you close your eyes you can almost imagine the crush of people in among the market stalls.


We stop for a break at the bottom of the great Theatre of Ephesus. Somewhere above us we can hear a female choir singing Christian hymns. Ephesus is a popular destination for religious types because it is here that St Paul preached the teachings of Jesus. I guess some group of enthusiastic Christians wanted to test the acoustics of the theatre and sing on the same spot where St Paul once preached and couldn't help but break into song.


All this writing lying around and no one to read it. Imagine the work that went into carving all these words. It would have taken weeks to do this, I'll bet.


And so we enter the remains of the Theatre of Ephesus, apparently the largest theatre in the world with a seating capacity of 24.000 people (which is more than most hockey stadiums, actually).


I can't resist climbing as far up as possible to see the view. Usually the higher seats are the "cheap seats" but in this case the higher you go, the better your view of the landscape. (Although in earlier times the stage would have had quite a tall background that would have obscured that view.)


One of the entertainers from the Veendam (Dr Kenny Watson) is touring Ephesus today as well and discusses the acoustics of the theatre. (The group of three people just below me.)


From the theatre the impressive Harbour Street stretches away half a kilometre to the distance. In earlier days this street led to the harbour at the end and was line on both sides with covered walkways and shops.


Dr Kenny Watson (black jacket) has the same idea as me and checks out the view from the stage of the theatre. He also helpfully provides a test of the acoustics by clapping his hands to hear the echo. I am glad he did that because I was curious about it myself but didn't want to look like a pretentious doofus by actually doing it.


I have to say that for such a huge theatre that the acoustics are actually quite good. From the high seats I could hear quite well what people were saying down below. Not to mention that earlier when we could hear the women singing it projected very nicely outward.


Leaving the theatre we head down toward the Harbour Street.


Here we see the city plan of the City of Ephesus. You may have noticed that the signs here are very dominantly in German (such as this one: "Stadtplan von Ephesus"). The signs for each location within the city had Turkish and German as their main languages with English in smaller text beneath. I suppose this is a testament to the large number of German tourists who must visit here.


The view down along the Harbour Street toward where the harbour used to be. Imagine this wide thoroughfare in earlier times with shops and bustling crowds.


A view back from the Harbour Street to the theatre. In this picture I am absolutely unable to angle it so that the construction cranes are out of sight, so finally you see them off to the right side. Seeing it again now I am a bit amazed that I was able to keep them out (or remove them) in the pictures that I took.


Here I cleverly use the trees to cover up the construction cranes looming over the theatre. But I also liked the view through the trees as well, so it's not entirely a trick.


Some final satellite map orientation before we leave Ephesus. I probably don't have to mark anything on this map, do I? I think the locations of the Theatre and the Harbour Street are fairly obvious.


And for our last satellite map we have one showing the entire Ephesus site that we've just walked through. Again I won't mark anything on this map since the path through the site is obvious and hopefully from the other satellite maps we have an idea where everything is.


Along the way to the exit from the site is a collection of so-called milestones. The stones lined the roadways of the ancient empires and indicated the distances to various places, in much the same way as road signs do nowadays.


Another view back through the trees toward the Theatre of Ephesus. The structure is so impressive that one's eye is automatically drawn to it.


Another experiment in being artsy. Not very successful though.


Upon reaching the parking lot at the opposite end of the City of Ephesus we return to the modern Turkish world of annoying pushy shopkeepers and genuine fake watches.


Back on the bus a cool refreshing towel, compliments of Holland America line, is good way to freshen up after the long walk in the sun.


Now we make our way across the city to visit the Tomb of St John. This takes us past the site of another of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World - the Temple of Artemis.

This single massive column, seen through the trees, is all that remains of this World Wonder. We'll have a better view of it from the hill where we're going.


For some reason I find it interesting to find cactuses here. I suppose it makes perfect sense in such a climate, but somehow I always think of cactuses as a North American thing and not to be found elsewhere in the world. There is no mention of cactus in the bible, after all. It just doesn't seem to fit in this part of the world.


Where I come from the cactuses don't have so many brightly coloured flowers. They just hid in the prairie waiting to stick you in the foot (or worse).


Climbing up a small hill we have a nice view of the valley and the mountains in the distance.


Just on the other side of this mountain is the house of the Virgin Mary. The city of Ephesus is located just on the other side of the hill closest to us at the right.


And down below, as promised, is a better view of the site of the Temple of Artemis with only parts of the foundation and the single reconstructed column remaining. Originally the structure boasted 127 columns of equal height to this one (about 20 metres) and all of it entirely of marble so you can imagine that it was quite a sight to see.

The Temple was destroyed on the night of 21 July 356 BC, apparently being burned to the ground. By coincidence this is the exact night that Alexander the Great was born and it is said that the goddess Artemis was too busy taking care of that to protect her beautiful temple. Then again, one might question the accuracy of these tales since you can't exactly burn an all-marble temple down, can you?

At any rate, such was the Temple of Artemis. We'll see what it looked like a bit later on when we visit the museum.


And so we make our way to the ruins of the Basilica of St John which is situated up here on this hilltop.


I love this guy standing out here looking over the landscape. It makes a nice photo, don't you think?


I took this picture of this table-top relief map to illustrate where we are at and the way that the city of Ephesus was built in-between two hills where we walked through earlier today.


Hey, look at that. Down below us a busload of tourists has arrived at the site of the Temple of Artemis.


Another view back across the valley before we head inside the Basilica of St John.


And so we reach the entrance to the ruins of the Basilica of St John.


The sign at the entrance helpfully shows us what the Basilica would have looked like when it was still in one piece.


Look at that in the distance. It's a big flag of some guy. I wonder who that could be? I'll bet it's a big picture of Ataturk.


At the heart of the Basilica is the tomb of St John. It makes me wonder how many of the apostles of Jesus have tombs where we know where they are. St Peter, of course, is buried in St Peter's in Rome. Here we have St John. I assume St Paul is not actually buried in St Paul's in London though.


As you can see there is not much left standing in the Basilica.


The Basilica seems to have been constructed from an awful lot of brickwork. It reminds me of the monuments of Hitler's Third Reich which were constructed with bricks and covered over with marble facings to make them seem to be constructed of all marble. In the old days they built things with big huge blocks - like the pyramids, or even some of the Greek and Roman ruins that we've been seeing. There is definitely some truth to the saying that "they just don't make them like they used to".

Then again, all the Greek and Roman stuff is fallen over and broken too, isn't it?


An odd mixture of building materials went into the walls of the Basilica. It's like they ran out of bricks sometimes and used broken bits of ancient Greek and Roman buildings instead until more bricks arrived.


And here we see the baptismal pool of the Basilica of St John where those to be baptised would walk through the pool and submerge themselves. This is another thing they maybe did better in the old days. This Catholic thing where they sprinkle some water on you as baptism is a bit lame. John the Baptist didn't sprinkle water on Jesus. He grabbed him by the head and shoved him under the water in the middle of a river (much in the same way a bully does at the public swimming pool). Now THAT is a baptism!


Continuing along we come across some more cactuses. I am really quite impressed with all of these.


A view across the ruins of the Basilica of St John. Among the brickwork there are also nice columns made of gleaming white stone, as you can see.


I wonder who lives in this house right next to the Basilica?


Down below us is an odd looking mosque called the Isa Bev Mosque.


From the site of the Basilica there's a slightly different view of the remains of the Temple of Artemis.


Standing at one end of the Basilica and looking all the way toward the tomb of St John at the other end.


Some odd shaped gourds and restored columns among the ruins.


One last look back at the Basilica before we head for lunch.


Lunch today shall be at the Railroad Museum, as good a place as any to have lunch, I suppose. Here we see some of the trains on the grounds of the museum.


This railcar was once Ataturk's private railcar. I'd like to have my own private train car to drive around Europe on.


Lunch at the Railway Museum is actually REALLY very good, I have to say. I should eat more rice and meat combinations.


I don't know what this is about but I liked the birds flying out of the statue.


We have a busy day today and arrive at the Ephesus Museum to see some of the stuff that was found at the site and subsequently moved to more protected surroundings.


It would be very impressive if these carvings still stood out at the site itself. It would be nice to see some of the buildings there restored more. But of course things like this shouldn't be exposed to the elements way out there. Many of the statues at Ephesus (for example those in front of the Celsus Library) are copies made from the originals which are now here at the museum.


I wonder about the cross carved in the forehead of what is obviously a statue of some Greek or Roman. Could it be that some zealous Christian carved the cross there because otherwise this would be some pagan statue?


The sign here says that these are "Parthian Relief Statues". I wasn't sure what the Parthian was but thought it might be a different form of the Prytaneion, in which case we'd have an idea of what it looked like.


Here's a handsome fellow - some Roman emperor or another.


Here's a odd fellow with a very very large arm. You can't tell for scale, but the arm is more than a metre long.


Another Roman emperor. It's interesting to see the different faces of these powerful men who controlled half of the known world.


Another odd looking fellow with a very bad haircut.


Which brings us to some statues that you've probably seen if you've ever watching a Discovery Channel programme on the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. This is a statue of the goddess Artemis.


Why is Artemis so weird looking? (You might ask.) I have no idea, but she's not what I look for in a goddess. I prefer my goddesses to be extremely good looking and thin and not weird in any way.


As promised we now get to see what the Temple of Artemis looked like when it was still in one piece.


Looking down the length of the structure to the giant statue of Artemis at the end.


I tried to get an angle where you could get a sense of the illusion of rows upon rows of columns. Now just imagine these being the size of the one restored column we saw earlier and you can see why this was really a wonder of the world. Imagine standing at the base of the structure and walking through that forest of marble.

Oh, and of course, check out what kind of columns they are. They have scroll things so they are Ionic. Whatever that means....


Something about this statue has something definitely Chinese about it. It looks kind of like the standard Chinese lion figure.


What's the first thing anyone does when they see a sundial? We always check to see if it is showing the correct time, right?

How about this one? Is it currently half past big S? No, sorry, it's actually only a quarter past weird E.

But what's interesting about this sundial, of course, is that the times are marked with the Greek alphabet. I did enough physics in school to know that the triangle letter is "Delta" and that "A" and "B" are probably Alpha and Beta. That makes the first four letters on this sundial Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta. I assume the sequence continues logically from there: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Weird E, big S, big Z, big H, weird O, I, and so on.


In the museum we also find a ancient Backgammon set. No quite Travel Backgammon, unless you have an entire mule dedicated to carrying it, but still interesting to see that the ancients liked board games too.


For a moment I thought this was some ancient map of Ephesus. But then I noticed that the ocean is miles away from the site, so therefore it's a more modern map (otherwise there's be a channel and harbour linking the city to the ocean). Plus the map is in German, which might be the second clue that it's not from ancient times.


I took this picture because I like satellite maps, of course, but also because it shows the location of the stadium of Ephesus. We drove past this when we left the site, but it's all covered over with dirt and plants so there's not much to see. But it reminds me of the Hippodrome in Rome, which is one of my favourite places in ancient Rome and which also is more or less grown over and un-excavated.


They have a temporary exhibition at the museum about the gladiators of ancient Ephesus. Here we see a chart showing us the different types of gladiators. We humans love to categorise things, don't we?

I wonder if they had gladiator action figures (made of clay or something)? Collect them all in your Happy Meals!


You might have also noticed on the satellite map a second ago that there was a cemetery marked as well, just down from the stadium. I think that was a place where gladiators were buried and they've uncovered some of the remains and have been able to piece together how they died. It's some real impressive investigations work, don't you think? This guy at the right was forked in the head. This other guy was knifed in the back. And I know knifing in the back, let me tell you.


Leaving the museum we start to make our way back to the ship once again. On a building nearby some storks have made a home.


On the hills outside of Ku?adasi is a Turkish amusement park called Adaland.


And so we reach the outskirts of Ku?adasi and spot a glimpse of the Veendam docked down beneath us.


I find Turkish shop owners to be unbelievably annoying and I am not in the mood at the moment so I don't plan to spend a lot of time walking around the town.


There's that statue of Ataturk again. We must be close to the ship.


Walking out on the pier there are some nice modern shops and cafés and what-not.


Pigeon Island, as you may remember from this morning.


There is even a Starbucks. My first thought is for Line and to get her a City Mug. But they are closed. Sorry Line. (I still feel bad about not getting a Skagway Starbucks City Mug for Line.)


There's a pilot boat. I wonder if that's the one that will help us pull away later today?


And so we are home once again. There's something comforting about seeing this big old lug of blue and white.


Goodbye Ataturk statue!


As usual we are greeted with hot towels and ice water and lemonade when we reach the gangway of the ship.


Where better to go after some time in the sun than the ice cream bar?


Oh! The forest fruit pie is back today! I'll have to have one of those.


Do I want anything else to go with my ice cream? Maybe a cookie?


They had brownies! There's nothing better than ice cream and brownies. And I even got some healthy stuff - the fruit, in case you were wondering.


After dessert it's time a late afternoon snack. The restaurant by the Lido Pool always has tacos and stuff every day so I grab some nachos and guacamole.


This incredibly dark picture is from a lecture in the main theatre of the Veendam. Some professor of something or other is on board to give a couple of lectures about the ancient world. Today's lecture is about the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and as you can see from his slide he is talking about the Temple of Artemis that we just saw.


And so we leave Turkey behind us and the Veendam starts to pull away from the dock.


The tugboats guide us out away from the dock and we start away on our own power.


I find sitting or walking along the promenade deck to be very relaxing somehow. Out here you really feel like you're on a ship.


The city of Ku?adasi recedes into the distance behind us.


I am always surprised at how few people spend their time outside on deck or in the swimming pool. There are more than 1200 passengers on board, after all, and not a single one swimming in the outdoor pool right now.


We make our way along the Turkish coastline and before heading out into the Greek Islands once again.


Fast forward a little bit to sunset and I am walking around the ship to enjoy the different views and perspectives.


We seem to be headed almost directly West into the sunset. I suppose that makes sense since we've reached the furthest Eastern point of our trip today and now have to make our way back again.


There is that haze again. After what the captain said yesterday I now know that it is probably the dust in the air carried off the dry Greek islands.


Whatever the haze is it is almost glowing in the light of the sunset.


Up to the Sky Deck to look directly forward at the sunset.


Some Greek islands off to the left side of the ship.


I am sure that another sequence of sunset photos follows this, so I won't make much commentary. What can I possibly say?







And that was the sunset for... what day is it anyway? 24 April 2007? Is that a Wednesday?


Before coming on this trip I guessed that the choice of meals onboard might be themed around the places that we were visiting. After all, on the Alaska trip the meals were often Alaskan in nature. But for the most part the menus on board were very similar to the Alaskan trip and there wasn't much special Mediterranean food. This makes sense since the Holland America Line specialises in Alaska trips anyway. And besides that, I never expected to have Alaskan King Crab on the menu on this trip and I am glad that it is.


As usual I cannot resist the meat on the menu for the main course.


Heading back to the cabin we pass by the Lido Pool where they are setting up a Dutch Dessert Extravaganza.


Unfortunately for me, however, the Dutch Dessert Extravaganza starts at 22h30 (well past my bedtime) and too shortly after dinner (too full) for me to be able to really enjoy it.

You might wonder why 22h30 is past my bedtime. But since I am not 70 years old and require a normal amount of sleep at night (IE 8 hours) and have been getting up at like six every day thus far... do the math!


And so another day comes to an end and we return to our stateroom where another towel animal awaits us.

Let's check in with the Daily Logbook to see where we're at:



Fact of the day: Once again there is no fact of the day so I will give you one of my own. Fact: Turkey used to have a terrible currency where you got like 200.000 Lira to the dollar and changing $50 made you a multi-multi-millionaire. They now have the "New" Lira which is more on part with the dollar or Euro. No more small bags of Doritos with prices expressed in tens of thousands.

Distance travelled (Rhodes to Ku?adasi) = 225 Nautical Miles (416 km)

Total distance travelled = 3938 km




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