We rested in Izmir for a day before venturing up the Western Coast via a 3-hour
busride to Bergama. Overlooking
Bergama is the Hellenic city of Pergamon, dating back to 281 BC. Our bus pulled into to the small and grimy
Bergama station. Lucky Mom had her
first, and perhaps last, squat toilet experience there. I love that this refined 76-year old southern
lady doesn’t blink in these situations. She has always been and will always be my
adventurous traveller role model.
We decided to make a fast escape from the squalor of the station and grabbed a cab up to the top of the mountain. There lay the ancient city, cloaked in a fine mist. Aside from one smallish tour group, we had the place to ourselves.
Interesting to learn that the city was re-discovered by a German engineer in 1871, when locals showed him a bit of a mosaic peaking through the grassy mountaintop. He immediately saw the treasure trove that was Pergamon, and oversaw a massive excavation. Money passed hands, and lickety split, many of the antiquities were shipped off to Germany, including an entire Altar to Zeus complete with gorgeous friezes. One day I’ll visit the Pergamon museum in Berlin, and have very mixed feelings about these artifacts: good that they’ve been preserved, bad that they’re so far removed from their home on the misty Anatolian mountaintop.
Quite a bit of the city remains, and we spent a peaceful afternoon soaking it all in. Mom enjoyed the view from the very tip-top of the super steep amphitheater (seats 10,000) dug into the side of the mountain while the boys rambled up and down the steep steps, borrowing the cell phone to capture silly pictures. Three generations of the Tigrett/Hunter/McCann clan playing out our small dramas in this 2,000-year old theater.
We decided to make a fast escape from the squalor of the station and grabbed a cab up to the top of the mountain. There lay the ancient city, cloaked in a fine mist. Aside from one smallish tour group, we had the place to ourselves.
Interesting to learn that the city was re-discovered by a German engineer in 1871, when locals showed him a bit of a mosaic peaking through the grassy mountaintop. He immediately saw the treasure trove that was Pergamon, and oversaw a massive excavation. Money passed hands, and lickety split, many of the antiquities were shipped off to Germany, including an entire Altar to Zeus complete with gorgeous friezes. One day I’ll visit the Pergamon museum in Berlin, and have very mixed feelings about these artifacts: good that they’ve been preserved, bad that they’re so far removed from their home on the misty Anatolian mountaintop.
Quite a bit of the city remains, and we spent a peaceful afternoon soaking it all in. Mom enjoyed the view from the very tip-top of the super steep amphitheater (seats 10,000) dug into the side of the mountain while the boys rambled up and down the steep steps, borrowing the cell phone to capture silly pictures. Three generations of the Tigrett/Hunter/McCann clan playing out our small dramas in this 2,000-year old theater.
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