Today it was time to take the guests to Olympia. Olympia is the birthplace of the Greek Tradition of Arbitrary Plate Smashing. Kidding. It is, of course, the birthplace of the Olympic Games.
I freaking love the Olympics. I cry when people win, and cry when people lose. I love watching human beings perform things that seem impossible – watching people do things I could never dream of accomplishing. I had butterflies in my stomach on the way there. The place where the Olympics were born!
The ruins of the Temple of Zeus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World! The complete frustration when I realized that I probably shouldn’t have escorted a tour that I wanted to take myself!
Yep, such is the rub. You go on the experience for free, but you pay dearly with a lack of really experiencing the place that you go. I tried so hard to listen to Nota, our lovely tour guide, and take pictures and enjoy the fact that I was walking through the arch that so many athletes, worshiped as Gods, passed through so many years ago.
But that wasn’t what I was primarily there to do. I was primarily there to make sure the guy in the Fredericksburg, Virginia shirt didn’t get lost.
Things I was able to glean from Nota:
*”Hitting the showers” meant jumping in a filthy river behind the gymnasium.
*Everyone on the grounds was a nudie. This was to make sure that no women were in the area. A bunch of naked, severely athletic guys running and jumping and ... hoo boy.
*As you entered the stadium itself, there were various statues of Zeus lining the pathway to the entrance. A criminal paid for each of these statues to be made.
The criminal’s name was displayed prominently upon it. It was considered to be an extremely severe punishment to have to commission one of those statues, as everyone would mock your name as they entered the stadium.
And…that’s about it.
I’m going to take a break from escorting for a bit. We get 20% off the excursions anyway. Jennine, Steve, and Dave, who also went to Olympia today as escorts, feel the same way. It’s worth the $50 or so to have someone else be the Mama Duck. Quack.
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