Olympia, Greece

10-13-13

Though Olympia is not a large site, it is a rich one. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the superb archaeological museum, where I began my tour. I was most impressed with a case of well-preserved bronze shields, many decorated with gorgon heads. Equally striking, if somewhat humbler, were the griffin heads which once served as handles for tripods. Certainly the most famous sculpture in the museum collection is Praxiteles’ Hermes with the Infant Dionysus. It may not be the original, but it is certainly a masterpiece.

The archaeological site itself is pleasantly shady, one of the few in my experience actually pleasant to walk through. Though straggling tour groups and officious guards compromised the effect to some degree, seldom in Greece have I seen a place so green. The remains, impressive if not particularly well-preserved, are well signed. Most date from Olympia’s Archaic and Classical heyday, when it was second only to Delphi as a Panhellenic center. The most imposing building, then as now, is the temple of Zeus. Phidias’ chryselephantine statue, a wonder of the world, is of course long gone; but the earthquake-toppled columns and great podium preserve some traces of lost majesty.

The events themselves were held in the grassy stadium, entered by a now roofless tunnel. Unlike most Greek stadia (such as that at Delphi), this structure never featured stone seats. Spectators (up to 50,000) stood or sat on the earth slopes surrounding the central track. Two lines of stone (the start and finish lines), a small shrine, and the small enclosure of the referees were and are the only features. Compared with the massive grandstands in (for example) Aphrodisias or Magnesia, Olympia’s stadium is remarkably unassuming. For a millennium, however, it was the uncontested center of Greek athletics. Every famous runner, boxer, or charioteer (a hippodrome lay beside the stadium) in antiquity made or confirmed his reputation here.

I spent about two hours onsite. Besides the buildings already mentioned, the palaestra, an athletic training ground from the Hellenistic era, was particularly enjoyable place to explore, though more from its shady olive trees than any architectural merit. I was rather surprised, at this time of year, to see that new excavations were being carried out in the vicinity. A bored-looking archaeologist was watching a tractor scrape ten feet of accumulated silt from the north edge of the gymnasium. He was (I assume) working above the Classical strata; but whenever he struck a stone, the archaeologist would scamper over to inspect it before giving him the thumbs-up to proceed. For both, I imagine, this must be a nerve-wracking process. I’d hate to be the guy who crushed a buried vase.

After my visit, I had planned to visit Olympia’s other museums; but finding these closed for the weekend, I had nothing else to do but walk in the surrounding countryside. Despite its unusual lushness, the landscape around Olympia is characteristically Greek: olive orchards, rolling hills, cloudless sky. A few dogs barked lazily whenever I passed a whitewashed farmhouse; birds flew up when I went by a copse. Otherwise, all lay quiet in the afternoon heat.

None of the rest is worth telling. I enjoyed my walk, did some leisurely reading on the balcony of my hotel room, ate gyros at a local restaurant, and slept soundly. When travelling, I prefer to be as busy as possible; but in the proper environment, a bit of enforced leisure can be pleasant. A deep breath – and on to Athens.