Since taking a picture of a book in the agora yesterday, I decided I should chronicle my other paper readings.
I tried to take another picture from inside the agora, but the staff yelled at me and made me delete it. “You have no right to take this kind of picture!” the woman said. “This is a sacred place!”
I was practically on top of the Great Drain, but still on the path. I’m not sure how sewerage installations become sacred.
That rather baffled me. No putting inanimate objects in the picture? But, hey, I don’t want to get hauled off, and I’ve been a tourist-herder, so I obliged the woman.
And took my pictures from outside the fences.
At the Roman agora.
Still at the Roman agora.
At a restaurant on Adrianou.
Just squeezing the Hephaistion into frame.
A Barricade in Hell, by Jaime Lee Moyer
I sat in the agora today – it is useful to have an I-Am-A-Member-Of-A-Research-Institute free entrance card – for three hours, and read the above-pictured book instead of doing research in a library.
Reading Jaime Lee Moyer’s A Barricade in Hell is still work, since I’m supposed to be reviewing it… but it’s different work, and required a little less concentration.
…you’re my only hope.
I don’t know where to go about finding out what these plants are called. Do you know where I should look?
What kind of plant is this?
What tree is this?
What plant is this?
I probably shouldn’t eat this, right?
I have been working in one lately.
This is the view of the outside of l’ÉFA’s (the French School at Athens) library building:
The French have nice premises.
This is a partial view of the inside of Salle A:
This is a lovely flowering plant that I wish I could identify:
Anyone know what the pink thing is?
And these are two of the three cats I saw in the garden at lunchtime:
White cat enjoys sunlight.
Hiding under bushes.
Two at once.
This is how much the insects of Athens love me.
There are two more insect bites under my watchstrap and another three on the underside of my arm. And three on my hand. My right arm has fared slightly better: there are only five insect bites in total.
They’re the large kind that start to leak a clear lymph if you somehow refrain from scratching them raw.
This one is the size of a twenty-cent piece.
I am really, really glad that Athens is not malarial. That’s all I’m saying.
Built by Herodes Atticus, Greek, Roman senator, confidante of the Emperor Hadrian, to the memory of his wife Regilla (whose brother accused Herodes of her murder). Mid 2nd-century CE. Incorporated into the Byzantine and later Ottoman fortification walls of the acropolis.
Entrance to the lower tiers!
The Odeion was quite tall.
And not just tall…
They’re setting up for Wagner’s “The Flying Dutchman” opera.
Because the internet is for cat pictures.
Cat of the Hill of the Muses
Cat of the top of the Classical Agora
Cat of the Tourist Information Office, Dionysiou Areopagitou
Cat, very pregnant, of beside the Panathenaic Way
Cat of the Athenian Acropolis, shortly before she bellied herself under the leftmost marble block.
Bonus! Unsociable Tortoise of the Pnyx