Attica and Athens

Attica. Mounychia built on the peninsula above Peiraieus, modern Perios,  the port of Athens and Mounychia was on a sort of mound with many holes dug in where people dwelt. Athens was capital of Attica from Akte.
Soiunous. Megaris which was once considered part of Attica before Homer's time. Mounychia became Munichia and  could possibly be the etymology behind Munich in Germany. Not sure.
  Off the coast was the island Salamis where the Greeks routed the Persians in a naval battle. King Kychrea unleashed a serpent on Salamis known as the Kychraelian serpent and it supposedly wreaked havoc and was not wanted on the island so it was beaten off by Eurylochus.
  (I noticed a Siamese cat up a Reading back street on the way to The Oasis which is no longer a corner pub but a community cafe. The cat sat behind an iron garden gate and looked and blinked and was somewhat unperturbed. The Castle Tap is now selling real ales.)
  Athens had suburbs inc Aphidna, Lyceiam and Peiraieus the port. The Parthenon was built by Ikselos. Potable water is mentioned again as there were many springs across the city.
    Statues of the Macedonian king Kasandros were all taken down and melted and I'll tell you why. Kasandros reigned over an Athenian oligarchy wrested from the tyranny before and people believed it was a fairer government. It was a successful situation for most in the city and Demetrios was granted governorship. Things got a bit unfair and when Kasandros died Demetrios disappeared and ran off to Egypt. The oligarchy turned to a bit of anarchy and the people took down the statues of Kasandros and melted the bronze and metal ones down and some vindictive people turned the melted statues into chamber pots!
   Hymettus honey was supposed to be the best and in general most Attican honey was of a very good quality and the best honey was found near the silver mine on Mt Hymettus near Athens. The mines were quite big and there were quarries too. Maybe folks kept honey in those pots melted down from Kasandros.
  Eleusis was a bit further west of Athens on the Bay of Eleusis and became a populous city with a temple dedicated to Artemis. Megara was capital of Megaris. Nisaia is a port near Megara. Four descendants of Theseus - Aegis Pallas Lycos and Nisa divided four parts of Attica between themselves. Far east Attica was called Sounis and is a promontory. Lyceiam was named after Lycos. Boiotia bordered Attica to the north. The Boiotians invaded and they were called the Aonians. There was a city in between Boiotia and Attica and it was often disputed territory. Euboia was another promontory to the north east. Attica was supposedly founded by Kekrops.
   An islet called Helene was once called something else but Alexander shagged a woman called Helen and he renamed the island after her which is a romantic story. The islet Psyttalia was covered in pines hence the name of the island means pine island. (What have you done today? Having a rast and bought some pillows. Chilled really.) Herakleidai mentioned a lot. Obviously related Hercules.

Mykalus Kane on Agathocles of Syracuse

Alright, I'm Mykalus Kane and I was down the Fountain of Arethusa battlecruiser a few weeks ago and I bumped into a geezer I know called Timaeus who wrote quite a lot about Callisthenes and Demosthenes and some other notable people. On this occasion he was fuming about something he'd read in the Syracuse Bee. A pony newspaper if there ever was one. I much prefer the Neapolitan Gnat. Some people ain't that keen on Timaeus, saying he has a sort of uneducated style and favours a sensationalist approach to history. He reckons Homer was a greedy basket because he always mentions banquets in his epic poems! Some say Timaeus is a bit of a cop out for spending bullseye years in a library in Athens and never experienced the school of hard knocks. They say he writes with his ray mears and not his mince pies! Whatever. It doesn't bother me as I think he's a good bloke to have a few sherbert dips with.

I said "what's got your goat Timmo?"
Timaeus, slightly red-faced, sipped on a pot of wine and then spat at the offending newspaper. "That fucking journo Polybius - the berk who thought the source of a fountain in Sicily originates in fucking Greece! He's really licking the Aristotle of King Agathocles in his obituary. Everyone including fucking Will's mother knows Agathocles left a good apprenticeship potter's job to become a prostitute on the streets of Syracuse. From potter to tart!"
I said "was it true he was doing striptease for the mayor of Syracuse?"
Timaeus said "Yeah, all part of his big game plan, mate. He was hung like a donkey. The proverb goes 'is that a new column on the Temple of Athena? No it's Agathocles' haha. Contrary to what Polybius says, he used his big knob to work his way up through the bedrooms of Syracusan society until he eventually became King and master of all Sicily."
I said "Masturbator of Sicily more like"
Timaeus said "Fuck me, haha, but Polybius has him down as some sort of straight-laced figure who never so much as had a quick hand-shandy round the haystack."
I said "Yeah I heard he shuffled over the Daily Spartan a lot when he was a potter! Got caught by the foreman on a few occasions. Hahaha"
Timaeus wasn't gonna relent "some of the stories that emanated from the back street brothels of Syracuse would make old Botrys the pornographer frown with disgust. There was a rumour about an ostrich involved on one occasion"
I said "Hahaha was he mates with Roddus Hullius? Agathocles scared the shit out of the Carthaginians though. I'll give him that. The slag kicked the fuckers out of Sicily"
Timaeus corrected "His army did. Not him! He was back home in Syracuse riding the Assistant Keeper of the Temple of Athena's daughter. Slag ain't the word, Mykalus. He was a jackdaw and a buzzard!"
"Cor, fuck me, that's bad!" I said
Timaeus said "He would face in any direction on request."
I said "a jack of all trades"
Timaeus said "master of none except whoring. I don't know how his trouble n' strife put up with it all the time"
I said "Yeah as Queen she must've been in two woodbines. I mean, he'd brought her amazing luxuries and god knows how many cassettes but she knew what he was up to behind the scenes. She probably had her lovers to compensate. Who knows"
Timaeus spat again "She obviously fell for him in the beginning - as we all know, he possessed some remarkable natural advantages."
"Biggest wanger in the land, haha" I said.
Timaeus said "Polybius ignores all the dirt and concentrates on his regal side and all the pomp and ceremony and all the virtues he possessed that enabled him to become king. He was a sly bastard with a big cock mate! Simple as that. Anyway fuck him, Mykalus, me old mucker, did I tell you some bloke had invented a mechanical snail? A mechanical snail that actually leaves a fake slime trail."

Battle of Zama

After Trebbius, Trasimene and Cannae this was the big one. Hannibal had eighty elephants at the ready, foot-scraping and trumpeting for action. First of all Scipio captured Utica from Syphax in a strategic manoeuvre with the help of three Roman commanders, all called Lucian. The Romans also captured Tunis, a good harbour, advantageous for bringing in more troops and provisions. Hasdrubal knew the Romans had tricked the Carthaginians and were responsible for setting fire to the main Numidian camp at night. Some Numidians under Massimo had defected to the Roman side. This was starting to become a popular trend. The Romans had all the exits to the Numidian camp covered and killed those trying to escape, who were mostly naked as they hadn't time to get dressed and ran from the reed huts in blind panic. Many were burnt alive in the blaze. It was a scene of utter horror. In the aftermath, Rome negotiated a peace treaty with Carthage but shortly afterwards some Roman envoys were treacherously murdered at sea, so the peace was broken off and war resumed. The Romans later offered no concessions due to this. 2000 Celts assisted Hasdrubal at a place called Abba and although they fought bravely the Romans defeated them and killed most of them. The Carthaginians managed to capture a small fleet of roman ships off Tunis. This was reported by the historian, Livy. Roman soldiers were able to fight effectively as a single unit or as a team and could turn to face in any direction during the midst of battle. Very cohesive and formidable. Maniples in the van, then hastati and principes making up the bulk and triarii at the rear. The maniples swords were strong and the shields tall and long. Scipio decided to put together a special vanguard to counter and deflect the Carthaginian elephants. He had Numidian cavalry in his flanks and so did Hannibal but there was much rearranging of infantry in Scipio's wings. Hannibal had been recalled from his campaign in Italy to inspire the necessary confidence in his African units. Both sides knew they were now fighting for the rest of the world. There was much at stake. Zama was the most important battle of the century. This was the Punic D-Day. Fortune was a big player in both camps and both generals were aware of the fickleness of Fortune. The elephants attacked but panicked at the sounds of horns and bugles and the clashing of swords on shields. They stampeded in retreat, killing some Carthaginians. Some elephants were not deterred and stampeded the Romans as intended but they were driven off by a heavy javelin onslaught. The elephants ran off into the desert out of harms way. Then the main contingent of infantry went to battle and a fierce man to man battle ensued. Men were fighting amongst blood and gore and many discarded arms were strewn about the battlefield. Soldiers were slipping on entrails as they fought. The Romans lost 2000 and Hannibal lost 20,000 men. Afterwards, the Carthaginians were allowed to keep 10 ships as the only Roman concession. All elephants were confiscated. Many thousands of talents were paid to Rome in compensation and vast tracts of Africa were taken for the growing of corn. All of Numidia was returned to the king. Carthage was stripped of its colonies.

Hercules and the Pigsty

So as part of his twelve labours, Hercules had to clean out an Arcadian pigsty. Instead of using buckets of water and mops he decided to go one better. He supposedly  redirected the rivers Pinious and Alphius through the farm and washed out all the muck. An incredible feat of engineering for one man as those two rivers, according to a map of the area, are never any closer than  30 miles apart. Assuming the pigsty was equidistant he channeled the rivers 15 miles. Not an impossibility for a man like Hercules who was obviously bordering on god-like. When he died he was conferred as a god to Mount Olympus with the rest of the capricious gang.
   Now let's think about this labour. Imagine you had to clean out a barn in Baldock. It would be like using the rivers Lea at Ware and the Ouse at Bedford. You can imagine how difficult that task would be in the 21st century let alone 3000 years ago. They had no sophisticated canal-digging machinery back then. Unless of course some of the ancient Greeks possessed equipment unknown to us that's been long lost. Maybe redirecting rivers was the norm and it was as easy as stroking a horse's nose. It was such a common thing that it only just got a mention as one of the twelve labours of Hercules. He probably said "blimey Zeus that's a tough one. What do you want me to do next? Turn the kitchen light off?"
    There's a possibility that Hercules was thinking about using normal hog washing methods when suddenly a freak tornado caused the two rivers to divert temporarily through that pigsty and he capitalised on the moment. He was an opportunist! Who knows the real truth. They must have been filthy dirty pigs to warrant the diversion of two rivers. Hercules may have employed a bunch of blokes to dig two channels from each river and then claimed sole responsibility after they'd done the job. That's feasible. It does state in the myth that Hercules did it on his Jack Jones, though. No assistance whatsoever. Not even a spaniel! Not even a couple of dung beetles. I wonder if he dug the channels in a sort of Tasmanian Devil style? I wonder what he had on his tea break - that's if he bothered having a tea break halfway through a five minute job. Anyway,  tea hadn't been imported from China yet! Then again, with his powers he probably could've conjured up some Typhoo. He probably drank it on the job. Saying that it's bloody hard to drink tea while spinning round like a Tasmanian Devil!
    Those pigs must've loved that sudden flood. I imagine your average pig ain't too chuffed with being inundated by river water. They were probably quite surprised by the whole affair, if you can imagine a load of pigs with surprised looks on their faces. I remember seeing the pig from Pipkins looking surprised - maybe a bit like that! "Ere I was fucking eating! Why don't you use a mop?" No Brummy accent, though.
    I imagine anyone fishing at the time would've been annoyed too. All of a sudden all the water vanishes. That don't happen every day. And then after a five minutes, the water's back! That must've confused a few perch! I reckon a fisherman on the River Alphius would've performed a little double-take when that happened. He would've been in the pub a bit later, chatting to his mate who was fishing on the other river, the Pinious, and his mate says "yeah exactly the same thing happened to me. Water disappeared for five minutes." The barman shaking his head thinking everyone's going bonkers round here today. "You want tea? Sorry mate we ain't discovered China yet! We got some good Attic wine in the basement. Seems like everyone's been on the hard stuff already, what with all this guff of some mortal diverting two rivers to clean out a barn" A charwoman starts wiping down some tables and the barman says "No Larissa, not that way. Divert two rivers. I want it done properly."

Aristaenus and Philopoeman

Aristaenus had the brains and financial acumen whereas Philopoeman had brains and brute strength - a bit like Arnold Schwarzenegger but cleverer. Both these guys made sure the Greeks got a decent deal once the Romans had disposed of the tyrannical King Philip of Macedon. Philip had pretty much kept the Greeks in fetters and wasn't a particularly rosy king. The Roman Flamininus, accompanied by Greek delegates, organised a liaison with King Philip and read out the conditions listed in a declaration of peace. Philip, who wouldn't come ashore, insisted on staying on his beaked ship anchored just off the Greek coast. He listened to what Flamininus had to say and agreed to surrender certain regions of Greece, mainly colonies he had no interest in, but he contested other regions mentioned by Flamininus, especially on whether they constituted parts of Greece or not. Akarnania seemed to be a bone of contention and several other places were disputed. Incidentally, Philip reckoned he had solid reasons for his habit of burning many innocent Greek cities and fields, saying it was to stop the Thracian enemy moving in, but the Romans didn't buy it. The Senate in Rome were fed up to the eye teeth with the bloke and simply didn't trust him. Philip possessed a sarcastic, quick-witted temperament, which did him no favours. He even took the mickey out of a blind delegate! The Roman Senate inevitably voted to continue the war with Macedon. In battle, the Roman phalanx technique was far superior to Macedonian tactics and the Romans were victorious. Once the Greeks were liberated from Philip's aggressive wave of tyranny, they were invited to attend an influential speech by Flamininus. The Greeks rejoiced over their new freedom and they envisaged a good future under Rome. They almost trampled Flamininus to death in the excitement - many citizens tried to hug and kiss him. Once it had all settled down and everyone had sobered up, Aristaenus and Philopoeman decided that they wouldn't allow the Romans to walk over the Greeks and they stood up for their rights.
   Meanwhile, Antiochus III of Syria was dead. As was Seleucus. The boy king Antiochus, was crowned under the guidance of Lysias and this suited the Roman Senate. Demetrius thought he had rights to the kingship. The Roman envoy Octavius, was murdered in Syria and Demetrius was suspected and detained in Rome, although he said that he had had fuck all to do with it. He appealed to the Senate, despite Polybius telling him to be wary, stating he was far more suited to be the king of Syria than the boy. The Senate was happy with the current situation and Demetrius was a bit hacked off so he decided to put a secret plan together.  Demetrius escaped from Rome at night with the help of Polybius and Appollonius. They tricked the captain of a fruit ship bound for Tyre into thinking they were soldiers on a dispatch to join King Ptolemy's army. Demetrius reached Syria and promptly murdered Lysias and the boy king. The people of Syria welcomed Demetrius as their new king. He always suspected they would, as there would be less Roman interference. The Romans, despite finding out what had happened, five days after the escape, thought it was too late to do anything about it, so they later sent envoys to monitor Syrian affairs. Syria covered most of Palestine until it was divided up by Rome and the northern part became Coele Syria. In Mesopotamia, the capital was Ctesiphon, just north of Babylon. Going completely off the subject, a Roman was willing to pay 300 drachmae for a jar of Pontic pickled fish! Far more expensive than a plough.

London Stomp July 2016

  Met on the Tat in changeable weather at 1pm. The tide was low and the old ex-Humber ferry rocked and almost broke loose from the moorings in the wake of passing craft. We sat out on the front deck as it was quite sunny. I bought two pints of Pedigree before my mate arrived. "That's service" he said. I said "that'll be a tenner" It wasn't too busy for a Monday lunchtime. My mate checked out a few special offers at potential restaurants for an evening meal. There are some good offers available online thesedays. My mate said he'd driven from his girlfriend's to Ware and grabbed the train.
    Grabbed the underground from Embankment to Blackfriars. The intention was to find The Harrow on Whitefriars Street just off Fleet Street. We eventually found it, a Fullers pub, so three guesses what we drank! We climbed the steep rickety apples and pears and found a seat up in the Georgian dining area, complete with plasma tv, overlooking a picturesque building under construction. No idea who the three gentlemen were in the picture above the opposite table. My mate noticed all the chairs were mixed up a bit, maybe to accommodate the freemasons and 'under the leg hand-shakers'. I did read there was a press party organized for the evening. I expected Nelson to pop in, but it was a long shot. Didn't even get an half Nelson. Steve Arwood wasn't in, either. I suppose it was easy enough to locate, what with it being a short walk from Blackfriars station. Spotted the Black Friar pub with its large statue of a black friar above the entrance, before the haphazard task of crossing the approach road to Blackfriars bridge. After some momentary real-life Frogger, we headed into the back streets. Lots of old alleys. One of them, Carmelite Street had its name carved into the concrete of a corner office building.
   After the Harrow, we had a stomp across the bridge, after admiring the south London skyline from the embankment and watching a catamaran pleasure cruiser turn away from the jetty. Saw some interesting new glass towers being erected, amongst the brutal concrete edifices of the sixties and seventies. My mate mentioned one of his mates was a window cleaner on office towers and worked the special crane on top of the building. You need a good head for heights for that job. George Formby never went up office blocks. The shard was standing high above the skyline. We ducked for shelter on the south bank as the rain became steady and heavy. We dad a good discussion about kings, spurred on by the pub opposite, called The Ring,  which was clearly a remnant of Victoriana with its old London brick walls and arched windows. Moved on to Georges and King Edwards. People walking by must have thought we were talking about 'taters! Noticed a top heavy glass tower opposite, shaped like a 'T' from the side. One way of creating space. When the rain eased up, we carried on down The Cut which leads on to Lower Marsh market, lined with interesting shops including one dealing with model railway and war books. Allen something, it was called. Spotted a Thai restaurant with a set of wall-mounted bird houses in the shape of an arrow. Passed a fair few pubs too. The Walrus on the corner looked gloomy as we approached the tunnel beneath Waterloo railway bridge.
    We walked past the back of the town hall and stood admiring the London Eye for a bit. I thought a mattress inside the cars would work. My mate said they've got one in Tokyo called the Jap's Eye. That reminds me of that time I was with a girl in London and I said "do you fancy going up the eye?" She said "don't be disgusting!" We decided that most stomps could be divided into three 'three-hourly' sections. Meet up and lunch. Afternoon. Evening. Makes perfect sense. Then some bloke on a bike cut us up. It's a fucking footpath mate!
    We crossed Westminster Bridge after discussing the houses of Parliament and Elizabeth Tower with its Big Ben bell and reminiscing about Newquay wet T- shirt contests. We partially agreed on going back to Newquay when we're 90 years old! Regarding the Houses of Parliament, you hardly see any of the other rooms on TV and it's a vast palace. I had a sudden urge to see the statue of Lord Montagu who was the lesser known commander at the Battle of the Glorious First of June. Admiral Howe got the medal for that one and ignored Montagu, who fought many decisive skirmishes. (We beat the French, incidentally.) Anyway, we queued up to go in Westminster Abbey to see the bloke, but it was only open for church services, so we didn't venture in. I said "I only wanna see Lord Montagu." The girl said "sorry we closed for public viewing at 3.30." Oh well. We contemplated swapping coats and rejoining the queue and saying we're interested in taking part in the church service but decided to move on. It was not to be. The weather was starting to improve as the day wore on.
   We wandered up Victoria Street. Quite a bland New York style thoroughfare with a few pretty pubs. One of those pubs is located on Strutton Ground, home of the Rastafarian angry man who wanted paying one time when the market was in full swing. No market today. We had a pint of London Glory which was good and sat by the front window beneath a picture of old celebs taken in the sixties. Eamon Andrews seemed to be the most prominent in the crowd. Harry Secombe was in there too, being one of the Goons. Spike Milligan had his own portrait. This was the pub where the Goons supposedly met up to discuss and write their sketches. As far as I know they weren't Arsenal fans. I told Mark about Danny Dyer's risqué memoirs and my own experience at Chingford Cricket Club in the late 80s. Both stories involved some pretty sordid sexual details. Talked about Vince the precision metal worker and the youngest Wilkinson sibling. My mate told me about some bloke nicking Tony Leg's haunch of beef and cracking a dartboard in half when he punched it in anger. he soon got his beef back. You don't wanna be having a beef with him! Good chinwag. Nice boozer.
   Went to Victoria station, now busy with commuters. Grabbed the oxo cube to Gunnersbury, which wasn't planned but formed a better prospect as it was closer to Strand on the Green - the next destination. There is actually a pub in Gunnersbury called The Gunnersbury, which isn't very imaginative but it looks alright. We gave it a miss on this occasion. The hotel-affixed Globe bar looked a bit Peroni! After some back street wanders, halfway over a railway bridge in Chiswick, my mate said "I was expecting a leisurely drink in London with a mate. My knee aches." Eventually we stumbled into The Bell and Crown. Ordered two pints of London Pride and grabbed a seat by the Thames. It's a much quieter tree-lined river at this point, almost in Brentford. Constable preferred to paint this part of London and you can see why. There were several currents flowing as we noticed a stick moving faster than another stick. A fair few white swans too. Marveled at some of the low flying planes approaching Heathrow.
   Then came an epic stomp. Around the Thames Path from Chiswick to Hammersmith; deceptively further than I anticipated. We passed the almost hidden Chiswick Marina in wealthy West London suburbia. (A place for rich people's boats - not an old Morris!) On route we inspected an old barrier. Concrete and shingle posts that had been gnawed at by years of extreme weathering. Twisted wrought iron railings possibly connected inside the posts. On further analysis this did indeed look the case. We estimated the fence was about 100 years old. It was mostly covered in ivy and brambles which reminded me of the story my mate mentioned about fixing his girlfriend's patio and buying some bricks that were surplus to requirements. We walked for what seemed an eternity. At one point I wondered if eternity was an actual place and wished it would hurry up and materialize. There was no glimpse of London at all in this quasi-rural zone. At one point I said "we could be in Puckeridge!" We passed the half-derelict Budweiser factory in Barnes on the other side of the river. At one point we ended up on a boatyard. Maybe we should have nicked that dinghy at Strand on the Green! My plates of meat were aching a bit now and I had no urge to go and play Badminton at the expansive and expensive Chiswick Health and Racquet Club. An elderly blonde driving her purple Merc Kompressor could haveve given us a bloody lift. We walked up and down some more tree-lined paths, some of which doubled back on one another, making the stomp a great deal longer. We wandered under a dark little tunnel. Then we were back in an open park area with rotting logs lining the path. I saw something. "Is that a tent?" It turned out to be a low covered trailer. I really thought it was a small blue tent. Not that I was considering bedding down for the night, but if there's no sign of civilisation we might have had to. It wasn't a tent anyway, definitely a trailer. Was this Vietnam? Are we starting to hallucinate?  Then we were back on the riverside in suburbia and passed an old deserted bandstand. At last we spotted a Thames island or 'eyot' and beyond that, according to my web browser - the possibility of a hard earned beer in the Black Lion. Well done Timberland and well done Converse!
   Popped in the Black Lion and bought some beers and sat outside, cream crackered. Any seat will suffice at this point. Not fussed. It was getting on for half nine now. That ball and chalk was over an hour or so.  What were those big posts in the middle of the Thames? My mate mentioned his old man had a couple of French bulldogs. The beer was revitalising me and I think my mate's Red Bull had done the trick. Time to think about wrapping up the stomp as 10pm was approaching.
At the Black Lion we had some tattoo chat. I said I once worked with an artist of Vietnamese descent who lives in Cardiff and who recently set up a tattoo studio. Talented girl. We debated on getting some scran either near Stamford Brook station or maybe even getting off at Earls Court. We constantly checked rail times. There wasn't much in the way of kebab outlets on Goldhawk Road so we jumped on the underground. At Earls Court it was time to make one of those snap decisions and since it was well past ten, it didn't give us much time for food, so we decided to call it a night. I changed for Paddington at Earls Court and my mate stayed on the train to Liverpool Street. Good stomp that! I saw there was an Oxford bound train waiting so I grabbed a bacon and egg sandwich from Whistle Stop and boarded. The fast train. Very useful. Got back to Oxford at midnight. Just in time for the end of the Shipping Forecast!
  

Mykalus Kane in Elis and Olympia

My name is Mykalus Kane and I'm bloody nosy bloke at times! I'm curious about Hollow Elis so I grabbed a chariot, got a boat from Ionia and went for a butchers. After landing at Kyllene, I went to the city of Elis, which wasn't here when Homer was writing his epics. He included Pylos in his books, which has a few good boozers. I spoke to a bloke in a pub called The Grapes which had a big bunch of red grapes hanging up outside that reminded me of a bad case of haemorroids. This bloke, Stesichorus by name, was covered in feathers and he fell about laughing when I asked him if Pylos was the home of Nestor who was instrumental at the siege of Troy and was a sort of Greek King Arthur. I wondered why he found the question so funny but the barman told me he was trying to smuggle birds into Elis from Aetolia and he had quite a nest of young pheasants in his pants. Fuck me smuggling birds in his Brian Cants. Takes all sorts. The barman said it was the Pylos where Nestor lived and it was known as Sandy Pylos. I don't like the sound of that as my old Nobby Styles are playing up. Well, Homer called it Sandy Pylos as it wasn't far to the beach or the sandy river bank. He said there's always been a dispute about which Pylos was the actual Sandy Pylos as there are three cities of the same name dotted down the west coast of the Peloponnesos. A proverb goes "Pylos before Pylos and then another Pylos". Anyway enough of this debate as my bloody Nobbies are killing. So turn it in!
   I headed south through Bouprasion and onward to the caves near the Anigros river which flows like a lethargic tortoise stuck in molasses. It leads into a lake which is muddy and stinks. They reckon you can get a niff of it five miles away. I noticed there was some fish in the lake and I was getting a bit Hank Marvin so I got my net out the back of the chariot and caught a few of the big ones. 'Kin Ada, they tasted like shit. Rough as a Kilikian beer mat, mate. Then I noticed a sign saying "don't eat the fish cos they're inedible." You're telling me! I discovered the waters of the lake were polluted long ago supposedly because a bunch of centaurs had got bitten by a big fucking hydra and they bathed their wounds in here to wash away the poison. They also say the water cures leprosy and some other diseases. They say fish is good for the Clare Danes but not these fuckers. As for the caves there are two and one of them was home to a group of Nymphs and the other one was where Dardanos was born. The hospital in 'lovely Arene' must've been chocker that day.
   Went to a pub in the middle of nowhere and met the writer Aeschylus who said "Athena or some goddess had Cyprus and Paphos as her allotment." That's a big allotment. Plenty of room for some rhubarb! We had a few pigs ears and swatted a few wasps. They love beer those bright yellow bastards. He told me about the Elian v Pylian war. "Nestor attacked Elis and nicked hundreds of cattle, sheep, goats and five hundred horses with foals. Itymoneus was killed, which was a bit of a blow as he owed my old man some gold. The stealing and fighting was all done in the day and they took the animals back into Pylos at night. The Epians got involved early as they hated Nestor's dad Neleus, supposedly because he was a reclusive old cunt! Three days after that battle, while the Pylians were sharing out the animals, the Epians planned an attack on Thryon. The Pylians sent assistance and routed the Epians, not stopping the killing until they'd chased them back into Bouprasion. King Augeas sacked his chauffeur because he was tipping off Nestor."
   Found a nice beach further down near Lepreon. Some Pylians were having a bull roast. Not just one bull but quite a few. Lovely aroma of beef kicking up. I wandered down the steps to join in the merriment and a bloke called Telemachus said "all these bulls are being sacrificed to Zeus the Earthshaker." I said "Cor he's a hungry bastard ain't he? He's done well for a lad born of a knee-trembler in a cave! His mum will be proud." A Kaukonian bloke came over and smacked me round the face with some seaweed. I said "that ain't part of the ritual you Kaukon cunt" so I decked him. I had a few shots of sambuca with my boat race stinging from bladder wrack.
   I crossed the Alpheius river which they say is good for leprosy. I crossed at a place called Thyron which Homer calls Thyroessa. Nowadays they call it Epitalion but I prefer the old name.
Thyron is the ancient Greek word for reed. Most river crossings are where many reeds grow. They use some of the reeds to make flutes. I went in a pub at Thyron called The Flute and I had a pint of Leper's Tongue. I don't know why they always say certain places are good for leprosy. Once your leg has fallen off it ain't gonna grow back by bathing in a lake. They probably mean the early stages of the disease. Makes me shudder thinking about it. Let's change the fucking subject.
   It's not far to Olympia where they started the games. They reckon it was Hercules who started it and he kept winning so they let a few more locals compete and an Elian bloke won it. The winner used to get a golden crown back in Hercules's day but once the common folk started winning they changed it to a tripod. Typical! A year later they couldn't afford a tripod so the winner got a fucking bunsen burner. All that running about naked in the Greek mountains must have been a sight for the ladies of Olympia. I think one year during the relay one runner had forgotten his glasses and grabbed his team mate's cock by mistake. Hope he didn't have a flake on! No tripod for that team. Homer says Augeas robbed four prize-winning horses. I'm assuming he means that the horses were pulling a chariot and the jockey won the prize and not that four horses won separate prizes.
   The Aetolians under general Oxylos had a skirmish with the Epeians who both wanted control of Hollow Elis and it came down to a fight between their two handiest men. A bit like David and Goliath. Anyway Pyraichmes was the Aetolian slingshot champion and he killed Degmenos who was a master archer. The Aetolians had only just invented the slingshot and were chuffed with the result. They were victorious. They say Oxylos only had one eye. Before this battle King Temenos of Aetolia was told by an oracle to look out for a three eyed man as he will be the key to winning the Battle for Elis. Well Temenos saw Oxylos riding a horse and he thought the combined eyes of the horse and rider make three so he asked Oxylos to become his general. Oxylos winked his eye and agreed and employed his mate Pyraichmes. Cushti.
  I doubled back across country in order to get the old chuck berry from the port of Kyllene. On the way I had a butchers at the city of Ephyra on the Sellis river. It was supposed to be where Odysseus bought some toxic drugs to coat his arrow heads, when he was fighting with Nestor against King Augeas. I went in a pub called the Poison Arrow. (They were playing ABC on the juke.) I met a bloke called Meges who was drowning his sorrows because some tea leaf had half inched his best corset. I offered my condolences and bought him a sambuca. He cheered up a bit when suddenly Shaw Taylor's face appeared on the pub TV on Greek Police Five and said they saw a man stealing a corset in Ephyra. A photo fit of the suspect was shown and Meges hammered his fist on the table and said "I know that bloke. Bloody Phyleus! I know where he lives, I'm gonna open the fucker up." Meges downed his drink and dashed off. As he left, the goddess Athena popped in. Well, she'd transformed herself into a bloke called Mentor which was what she often did to disguise herself. She said to the Kaukonian barman "I want my debts paying mate." The barman shrugged and showed Mentor an empty till. "OK I'll be back same time next week!" I thought to myself she ain't got a very convincing male voice at all. Sounds like Joe Pasquale.
    Stesichorus the writer, not the bird smuggler, was drinking in a pub in Arene. He was going on about a beautiful girl called Rhadine who recently sailed to Corinth as she was betrothed to King Kipselos the tyrant of Corinth. ( He dedicated a massive gold statue of Zeus to the Olympic sanctuary.) Well, this Rhadine had a cousin who wanted to get in her pants and he sailed to Corinth to see her. King Kipper, wearing a Kipper tie, was fucking livid when he caught them both at it, so he wacked them both and sent their bodies far away in a chariot. Then he cried his mincers out afterwards and called the chariot back and had them buried in Corinth. Fuck me, I was almost in tears myself and I don't even know the girl from Adam. I bought him a pint of Acropolis Gold.
   I arrived back in Kyllene in time for the last boat back to Corinth and from there I'll ride cross country to the port of Nisa or maybe Argos as I can get a ship back across to Miletus easy enough. Kyllene is alright and it's got a bloody nice statue of Asklepius. Ivory they say. I grabbed a beer in a pub down by the harbour and saw there was a copy of 'The Catalogue of Ships' so I had a butchers while I drank my pint. It's a bit like a Doomsday Book and it tells you how many estates old Nestor owns and how many pigs he's got. Nothing about ships at all which I thought was a bit disappointing so I grabbed a copy of the Daily Sport and there was a nice picture of Aphrodite on a double page spread. I said to the old barman "Where's your kermit? I need a dump." The barman who was called Oxylos, only had one eye and he winked.