Walking in the Footsteps of Giants: Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Theodore Moore Sr.

Athens, Greece

My time in Athens came and went like the time between the first and second alarm that we set. It was an amazing experience and one that no doubt recharged my batteries. While there I was working at a hostel. For those of you who have been keeping track of my travels, it was basically the opposite of the place I had just come from in France. Here I was introduced to knew people from all over the world every night. I discovered it was like clockwork. Head up to the rooftop at around 8:45pm and it will be a ghost town or filled with people glued to their phones on social media. However, go up there past 9:00pm and it is a bustling environment with likely 2-5 different languages being spoken. Everyone is nestled in their seats that serve as a perimeter to the outside rooftop patio area. The weather was perfect for sitting and hanging almost every day I was there, the sounds from the city serve as an upbeat ambiance for meeting people, the air wafting off the Aegean fills your nostrils with a sentiment of something greater than yourself, and lastly, if you lean over the edge of the balcony a little you can see the Acropolis staring back at you in its full illuminated splendor. These are the things that would entice and pull in most visitors, but what made them stay was all the more important to me. The conversations had on that rooftop about everything and nothing meant the world to me. One night I would be talking politics with a Brit, the next world peace with an Israeli, the next whether or not historical preservation of sites was important with a German, an Azerbaijani, a Uruguayan, an Italian, Swede, Polish, Russian, French, Turk, Egyptian, American, the list goes on and on. 

Conversations

I want to preface though that no conversation was ever the same. Some of the prompts or topics may have been duplicated but the emotion, emphasis, and perspective were entirely unique. A theme that did keep reoccurring though was the topic of “tourists” and “touristic” places. Every time I talk to people about travel (back home and here) this topic comes up. People want to get “off the beaten path” they want to “immerse themselves in the culture” they want to “hang out with the locals” and all this is on a 2-3 day trip in a city. HAHA! Now I am not saying that isn’t possible, but highly unlikely and in my opinion inefficient. People always try to avoid the touristic spots, like it is cool to go to Paris and not see the Eiffel tower. Like get the heck out of here. There is a reason they are the touristic spots, because they have stood the test of time and people hundreds (in this case thousands) of years ago thought they were beautiful and people today think they are beautiful. However, that isn’t even my real focus. A lot of the time people don’t want to go to these places because there are too many tourists (first of all, you are one of those tourists). I tried to make the case that their perspective is all wrong, and I will try to make that case to you as well.

Books on Books on Books

There is something magical about being in a touristic spot, shoulder to shoulder with strangers with selfie sticks. Neither of you know quite where you are going, both of you are experiencing something new for the first time. But it even goes deeper than that. I imagine touristic places as these big libraries. Each person is a book you have never read. Sure you might be looking at the cover, but you have no clue what is on the inside. Some of them might be a Dr. Seuss book, some might be Moby Dick level complex, and some might be boring like The Wealth and Poverty of Nations (Sorry Dr. Brooke it seems it is the running joke now). It is magical though that every single one of those people have their own unique story, their own unique life, that you know nothing about. Sure some of them may have similar interests as you, but some of them are from a country you will never go to in a city you’ve never heard of and your paths will never intersect again. Sometimes I will just walk past these people and think about if we would be friends or not given a different context. Sometimes I secretly wish they would fall off a mountain if they bump me again, but normally it is nice thoughts. 

Tiers 1-3

Now I am about to go Inception style deep and find another tier to this tourist experience. So, tier one: a beautiful monument that has historical importance blah blah blah, tier two: the human experience and interaction with people who are really books that you’ll probably never read, tier three: a universal connection with mankind. When looking at something like the Eiffel Tower or the Parthenon you write yourself into millions of other people’s books. You now have a shared experience with people from all over the world from all different periods of time. In some weird way you have intertwined your story with centuries upon centuries of other lives, rulers from foreign nations, peasants, and slaves who provided the labor, and all of you stood looking at it with that same stupid smirk that every worthy monument should be looked at. 

The Final Tier

Staring at the Parthenon and Mount Lycabettus

Alright, now one final tier and to me the most important. As someone who studied and taught history, Greece and Athens in particular are  places of significant importance to me. Birthplace of democracy, predecessors of Rome, language of the new testament, the lands of Alexander the Great, the inspiration for the greatest art the world has ever seen, the creators of some of the greatest art the world has ever seen, and the birthplace of Western philosophy. And here I was walking around in my Paladium boots, unknowingly possibly literally walking in the footsteps of Socrates, Plato, or Aristotle. The chill I felt imagining them looking at the Parthenon with me or gazing out from the top of Filopappou Hill looking towards the Aegean coastline. It seriously is indescribable but I understand that not everyone feels the same way about this kind of stuff. I do have one more to bring it home though.

The Actual Final Tier

Ever since I have started traveling my family has always given me a similar response, “be careful it is crazy over there.” Literally no matter where I am going that is the response. In their defense, the first place I went was China, soooooo. Anyways, they have always been supportive, but distinctly leery about wherever I went. I think at some point they just broke though, and they knew there was no point in worrying because they knew I wouldn’t be. Then there is my grandfather, the extreme end of this case. He traveled quite a bit back when he was in the Air Force, and he even disapproved of me going to California. To those of you who know me well enough have probably at some point heard me talk of my grandfather, and that is because he played a huge part of raising me. We are really tight and I scarce to say that there is anyone on this planet I love more than him. We have had some ups and downs, but he has been my rock and anchor, just like he was been for my entire family. We are his empire! I know it pains him that we are all so spread out, but I also know how much he loves that we are enjoying life. SO, this person that means the world to me 9 out of 10 times did not agree with my travel plans. For weeks I tried to find the words to tell him I would be traveling for 9-10 months. I knew it would be a conversation him nor I never thought we would have. I knew he would give me one of his classic phrases, “well, heck Josh, what would you go and do that for?” I remember calling him and having the conversation, and it was so smooth and seamless I wasn’t sure he actually understood what I was saying. So I called him a week later and brought it up again, and sure enough he was completely complicit in my plans. Then I started naming off the places I was going to go, and still I mentioned Israel, Egypt, and Turkey and he didn’t so much as change in tone. However, I struck a chord when I told him I was going to Athens. See back in the 50s he was stationed there for some time, and I guess it must have been a good time because he was ranting and raving about how I had to go here and there, and how I should eat this and that, drink these, watch out for this. I dare say I have never seen my grandfather so lively except when I told him I invested in Stocks.

Mount Lycabettus. Pictured: Acropolis, Olympic Stadium, National Garden, Piraeus, and a couple islands

The Final Tear

For me this took it to the next level. I was on Mount Lycabettus, the largest of the Athens area, gazing over the city. I could see from the mountains all around, to the port, to the islands off the coast, I could see the Acropolis, Hadrians Arch, everything. And I remember rewinding the clock to maybe a younger version of my grandfather, probably close to my age, standing in the same spot marveling over the same city. I haven’t even told him about this yet, but for some reason it brings me to tears every time I think about it. Maybe it is because we now have a shared experience that no-one else in my family has, maybe it is imagining my grandfather having his breath taken away like me, or maybe it is in a large degree me stepping out of who I am and into who he was. It is a strange sensation, we are already so close, but now I feel this next level connectedness with him. I imagine what he did during his nights off. Maybe he hit the town with some of his buddies, or maybe he went for a romantic walk around the Acropolis, or maybe he drank a beer and smoked a cigar in some back alleyway listening to some local tunes. 

Who is Really in the Crowd

So yeah, walking where Socrates walked was cool. Seeing the birthplace of democracy was great. Peering at one of the most incredible feats of architecture I have ever seen was breathtaking. But none of that physically brought me to tears as a shared experience with my grandfather did then, and is doing right now. So next time you are in the crowd and people are bumping you and the line is taking forever, slow down and relax. Bathe in the human experience, connect to something deeper than yourselves, look upon the covers of all those books you will never read, and realize that some of them may be fighting back tears or that their grandchildren might be fighting back tears a few decades from now. 

In other news, I am off to Bulgaria to work at an ostrich farm. YOLO, You Only Love Ostriches!