Moon Over Athens ©2009 Charlene Nevill

Despite rather ominous predictions, I have returned unscathed from my journey to Delphi. As promised, there were tests. And there was an unexpected development. But I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to make the trip and I’m even more grateful to be home.

My first test was one of patience. After a ten-hour flight, I had an eight-hour layover at Heathrow. Rather than dash into London as two of my friends had suggested, I decided to get into the proper frame of mind for a pilgrimage right in the middle of Terminal 5. Feeling not unlike Tom Hanks in the movie The Terminal, I wandered up, down and around both levels several times. I ate. I read. And instead of obsessively engaging strangers in friendly chatter, I sat and calmly observed the people and the space around me and listened to my own thoughts. As daylight turned to darkness and the lights came up, the interior space that had resembled a giant gymnasium a few hours earlier took on the reverential air of a cathedral and there was a palpable hush as the travelers moved about more slowly.

The second test occurred after I arrived at my hotel in Athens. I’d had a pleasant flight from London and I’d arranged a cab to pick me up at the airport, but it was 4 a.m. and I was very tired. After checking in, I made my way to the elevator which turned out to be the size of a matchbox. I wrangled my small suitcase and my small self into the claustrophobic space and prayed as the doors slid closed barely missing my nose. So far, so good.

When I got to my room wanting nothing more than to climb out of the clothes I’d had on for what seemed like days and climb into bed, I couldn’t figure out how to turn the lights on. Just inside the door, there were the usual switches, but pressing and pushing them up and down did nothing. I parked my suitcase inside the room and headed back to the front desk. I was told to insert the room key into the slot at the top of the first switch. Back upstairs, I found the slot, slid my key in and there was light. Hallelujah! But two minutes later, the lights went out. Fumbling about in total darkness, I located the key I’d set down on the beside table and reinserted it into the slot. Lights! Two minutes later, darkness descended once again. Back at the front desk, I learned that the key needed to remain in the slot. Oh. I wondered if I might have been able to figure this out if I hadn’t been awake for over 24 hours. But no matter–I could see at last. And I had arrived at my destination without incident.

Before collapsing, I grabbed my camera and headed for the roof hoping to see the moon above the Acropolis. And there it was shining down on the Parthenon. It wasn’t a harvest moon, but it was full and it was beautiful.