Travels with Spaniels: Gazing at ruins and gongoozling at the Corinth Canal

“If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.” You won’t often see us quoting from the bible, but it’s hard not to think about First Corinthians when you are standing in Ancient Corinth at a place where St Paul preached, and which later became a church dedicated to him. If Apollo ever wrote letters to his flock they’ve been rather lost in the mists of time. As you might expect though, his temple here is substantially bigger, in fact bigger than almost any ruins we’ve yet seen, with the possible exception of the temple of Zeus at Olympia.

Acrocorinth drapes around the hill

Ancient ruins are on quite a scale in Corinth. We’d spent the night before perched on
the massive rocky outcrop above the old town, known as Acrocorinth. It is draped in massive stone walls, three kilometres in circumference, with three concentric rings comprising either wall or sheer rock. The fortress was started in about 600BCE, and has been added to and amended by the now familiar succession of Romans, Byzantines, Franks, Venetians, Ottomans and anyone else passing through. Its location was just too good not to make the most of, with views across the Gulf of Corinth, and to the other side of the isthmus. You’d see an invading fleet several days before it could land.

A good place to watch for enemies

We’d arrived at Acrocorinth on Friday afternoon, having spent the previous night at the small harbour of Nea Epidavros. These little harbours have been good to us on this trip, and they usually offer a safe, hassle free place to spend the night. Nea Epidavros was different only in the style of vessels moored. As we get closer to Athens the rustic fishing boats are increasingly giving way to motor cruisers and sleek yachts.

We like spring water

On Saturday morning we took the spaniels for a ramble around the slopes of Acrocorinth, before exploring the fortress. After taking in the views we drove back down, stopping to fill up at one of the many roadside fountains which invariably have the nicest tasting water.

After lunch in the car park at the archaeological site we paid our €4 each (winter rates) to explore the ancient city, which is fairly compact, but has a lot to see. That’s partly because so much of it is Roman and has survived better than the Greek constructions that predate it by several hundred years. We are in the cusp of a time when computers could give instructions for reassembling the thousands of fragments lying around. Would that be better or not? We’ll have to wait and see.

When we had seen our fill of marble and limestone, and wandered through the small tourist village, we drove about 500m to one of Greece’s rare camperstops. For €13 a

St Paul was here

night it offered electricity, and black and grey water dumps, as well as fresh oranges and eggs. Much to Nick’s delight it also flew the St Piran’s flag, left by regular visitors from Cornwall. We’d decided to make the most of it before heading towards Athens, where we’ll be in a gated car park with no facilities.

We try to make Sunday mornings a little different from the rest of the week, with a cooked breakfast and a more relaxed start. As it was also my run morning, it was after one by the time we had walked the pups and were ready to leave. Our walk took us back through the tourist village, and after the spaniels had had the usual fuss from several passers-by we wondered whether we should fit them with a collection box, or perhaps set up a spaniel hugging stall next to a tourist site?

Temple of Apollo, now...

...and then (1909)

Our first stop was the Corinth canal, specifically the submersible bridge at the western end. We took some photos, and then sat and drank our tea, reading about its long gestation: Nero had it started, but it was only finally completed in 1893, after which it still faced numerous problems. It has never been used to anything like its capacity. Perhaps even more impressive than the canal was the Diolkos, the paved way across the 6.3km of the isthmus, along which the ancient Greeks used to drag their ships, rather than sail or row around the Peloponnese.

Submersible bridge in situ...

...and sunk

Suddenly Nick’s shipping app informed us that a ship had entered the canal at the other end. The prospect of watching the bridge in action was too enticing to miss, so we stayed to watch the bridge descend into the water, the 2080 tonne general cargo ship Agios Georgios being tugged along the canal and through the bridge, and then the bridge deck emerge from the water to allow cars to drive across it again. We had been alone in the small car park, but as the bridge closed cars beetled in from all directions, so we clearly weren’t the only ones to enjoy the spectacle. At home, people who hang around to watch narrowboats go through locks are called gongoozlers. I wonder if there’s a Greek equivalent?

A short time later we drove over the canal, looking down into the vast canyon it creates across the isthmus, and said au revoir to the Peloponnese. We’ll be back in a few days, but first we have a quick trip to Athens planned. We are parked up tonight on small gravel area used by people fishing off the nearby beach, just half an hour from Athens. So I’ll end this post, which includes Valentine’s Day, with love to all our readers, and the hope that we have managed to avoid being either a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.