“A great city is not to be confounded with a populous one” Aristotle
Acropolis of Athens
Acropolis of Athens
Who knows, what happens
In this place of fun
And place of knowledge
The Parthenon, Propylaia and Erechtheion
Just to name a few of them
One named after the mighty
And powerful Athene Nike
Join us on this uphill travel
Maybe some mysteries will unravel
While roaming the ancient ruins
Like some pilgriming druids
Click on the images for higher resolution
E0702 KLENZE 9463
BACK TO PART ONE OF TREASURE HUNTERS
“There is more treasure in books, than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island”
The Treasure Hunters, Part Two
I started slowly walking towards the ship. It would be my best option to get more info on what was going on. Just hoping these people, who ever they were, would be the friendly sort.
“Ahoy there!” I shouted and waved my hand as I approached the crew of the ship.
Who obviously was the Captain and the two crewmen standing beside him, turned and looked at me. They then looked at each other, obviously surprised of my presence.
“Who are you and where do you come from lad?” The Captain asked me.
‘Lad?’ I must have also changed appearance and sex since my transportation or teleportation or what ever it was that got me here in the first place. I was thoughtful and tried to choose my words carefully before answering them so not to reveal myself or my origins.
“Hi, I mean top of the morning to you Sirs!”
I had to remember I was considered ‘a lad’ and that to the best of my knowledge meant a young man or teenage boy. Of course without a mirror I could not tell what my face looked like, but judging from my clothing, the Captain was right on spot.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where exactly I am.” I was thinking of a quick cover story, “It seems I bumped my head after a fall and seem to have lost all sense of direction.” I mock rubbed my forehead to convey the now oddly staring crew members where I had been hurt.
The Captain took a step closer to me and stood staring for a moment. I could smell the rum on his breath and was sure he did not buy my story. I managed to hold my stance and stared right back at him, trying to keep an innocent look on my face. After a few moments, during which I felt I would pee myself soon enough if the Captain would not stop his piercing stare.
All of a sudden, he burst into laughter. He patted me on my shoulder and turned towards his crew.
“Come on men, let’s get the lad some assistance here.” He ordered his men and turned back to me asking.
“Are you hungry lad?”
I nodded. After all I had missed lunch, running most of the day on coffee only.
“OK, then. Come with us and we’ll fill your belly with some grub. I’ll have the doctor check your forehead. That looks a very nasty gush you have there son.”
I was surprised, since I was not aware I had any wounds on me. I looked at my hand I had been rubbing my forehead with and as I looked at it, there was blood on it. I was shocked and felt a little dizzy. Blood was not something I could deal with lightly.
The Captain laughed. “Come on lad, don’t faint before we get you to our camp.” He then waved to one of the crewmen, who quickly came and offered to support me.
“Thank you!” I answered briefly and the crewman just nodded as we all left for the camp.
I could not help wondering how my little white lie had turned into reality. Maybe I was dreaming in some elaborate way where I was in control. I was planning on testing my theory once we reached the camp, since currently I had trouble keeping up with the others’ pace, let alone think of anything else. My feet were not used to running barefoot, and I could feel each and every little stick and stone along the path. I just hoped we would reach our destination, soon.
“Not all treasure‘s silver and gold, mate”
Jack Sparrow, Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl
The Treasure Hunters
It was just another day at the office. The lost and found box weekly walk through task had fallen on my desk this week. Procrastinating on starting the tedious job, I decided to get a refill for my coffee and take the box to an empty meeting room and sort out the lot there on the conference table.
I was starting with the task at hand, pulling each item and sorting them to their respective piles on the table. An odd glove, an empty wallet, a photo frame with a photo of a Disneyland visit, a few coins, when a crumpled piece of paper caught my eye.
I picked it up, curious, because the paper was yellow and thick, nothing like the printer papers we used for the office. It seemed older and more delicate somehow. I carefully unfolded the lump in my hand, and bit by bit, I had it fully open and spread in front of me. I could not believe my eyes.
The X marks the spot indeed; I was looking at what seemed to be, a treasure map and a price to seek.
I kept staring at the map in front of me, wondering if it was someone’s idea of a joke or the real deal. As I stared deeper and deeper into the mysterious map, I felt a dizziness and suddenly, I was surrounded by thick fog. A whooshing sound and there I was, standing on a beach, transported to an unfamiliar place.
The sun was shining warmly, seagulls above me, screeching. The waves gently rolling across the sand. I, myself, barefoot, dressed in fashion resembling an eighteenth century cabin boy. This was a completely different outfit to what I had been wearing before, not to mention the lack of footwear.
I scanned the distance and saw a tall ship. The crew was getting ashore and carrying many a boxes. The men were dressed in similar old fashion clothing I was and oddly enough, the whole set up resembled a scene from a pirate film.
I wondered whether my eyes were deceiving me, had I fallen asleep and was dreaming or had I just lost it all together. I pinched myself and felt the pain. “Great!” I said out loud in a sarcastic tone. Either I had stumbled into a wormhole or other dimension, this was actually real!
I started slowly walking towards the ship. It would be my best option to get more info on what was going on. Just hoping these people, who ever they were, would be the friendly sort.
“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “
Back in time
This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!
The year was 1924.
Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.
How old was I?
I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.
Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.
Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.
The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.
Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.
Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.
All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.
Do I miss it? My childhood?
I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!
“A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.” – Joan Didion
A Room with a View
We had been driving for a while, not sure whether this road we were on, would lead us to the right place. Everything was different now. What once were wide open fields and forest, had now transformed into a mini suburbia. It was difficult to navigate by only old images serving as maps for the familiar road taken some forty years ago.
“There, take a turn here!” I pointed out to the direction looking to lead to were I wanted to go.
The car swerved and after a moment, I started recognizing familiar landmarks, still standing after all these years despite the changes. The big boulder standing proudly at the very edge of the ledge. As
kids we use to play and re-enact our favourite TV shows, pretending the rock was part of an alien planet.
Driving further and deeper into the woods, the distances between houses were getting longer and soon I was able to see recognize some of the places long since forgotten. We had finally arrived.
Stepping out of the car I noticed the neighbours’ house was still standing on the accompanying lot, still as run down as it had been all those years ago. I wondered if anyone actually lived there anymore.
Looking at the empty spot where our home had been, I could still see some of the rocks which had been part of the foundation of the house once standing proud, laying scattered After neglect and abandonment, the run down building had finally been demolished.
I walked around in the tall grass, feeling nostalgic and remembering how it used to be. As I closed my eyes I am transported back to the old house, my playhouse, the house I was born in.
It was a warm summer’s day. I could smell the freshly cut grass and see all the flowers in bloom. The field surrounding the house was filled with yellow, the colour of dandelions.
As kids, it was really fun to blow off the seeds when the flowers had bloomed and were ready to pollinate. Little did we know we were actually helping the flowers to spread. They looked like skydivers as they slowly landed on the ground.
I turned and looked at my home, the raw wooden exterior, no creature comforts, such as running water or toilets. The outhouse was a little farther up the hill, covered by tall trees and bushes. Someone probably thought it would be a good place to hide it, so the onlookers would not find out the people actually went to the toilet in those days.
As I moved closer, I saw my grandmother sitting in the swing. She loved that swing. She sat there for hours on end, watching us kids play in the yard. I waved to her and continue inside. I was thirsty and I knew there was a pitcher of cool lemonade in the kitchen. In those days a refrigerator was a luxury and we did not have one.
To keep things cool, there were sort of holes or wells dug into to the ground, filled with cool ground water. The food was then put into a bucket and lowered into the hole. Our kitchen had one in the middle of the floor and it was handy especially during hot days like this one was.
The house itself was small, two bedrooms, a living room and the kitchen. There was electricity coming into the house, for lamps and such. And of course to the piece de resistance, the television. The only one in a ten mile radius. The neighbour kids and I used to gather in the house every Sunday afternoon to watch our favourite TV show, Thunderbirds. Even grandfather sat with us kids and watched the show in awe.
As I entered the house, I walked through a small foyer: It was really a tiny space between two doors before actually entering the inside of the house. When guests arrived, there usually was a queue waiting for entry into the house. Each in turn taking off their shoes, leaving them in the foyer and then entering.
I quickly stepped out of my clogs and entered the kitchen. The opposite wall was filled with cupboards and a sink. And of course no running water nor sewers. The long kitchen table surrounded by twelve chairs dominated the room. At Christmas and holidays we used to gather around it with family and friends.
I went to the “well” and opened the hatch. Hoisting the bucket up and taking one bottle. Putting the bucket back, closing the hatch. Walking to the cupboards, I took two glasses out. Satisfied I carried my items outside to where my grandmother was sitting.
After pouring the cool lemonade in the glasses and offering one to my grandmother, I sat down in the swing beside her. Letting the gentle swing and the warm summer breeze lull me into sleep.
After for what seemed an eternity, I finally opened my eyes and I was back in the present. The grass still green, field still filled with yellow dandelions, smiling at the warm memories of childhood and my trip back in time.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 