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The Arcadian Gate of ancient Messene The Spartans really did beat up the Messenians. One hopes that during the three-month truces ( Ekeheiria ) during the games at Olympia, that the Messenians got a break from their laconic and brutish neighbours. (See “ Stop the war, and have a wrestle”). The Spartans were so hard, in fact, that their own city didn’t have a need for defensive walls. The city walls of ancient Messene by contrast are nearly 6 miles long. And formidable in stat

The head of Constantine, the head of Constantinople, fell during the fall of Constantinople. (All my own work. I thank you!) [Alix: ahem…] Quite exactly how Constantine became separated from his head during or after the fight to save his Byzantine ‘capital’ from the Ottoman invaders is much debated. But separated they became. At that point, on May 29th 1453, the once mighty Empire now comprised only two morsels: tiny Trebizond (which would fall to Sultan Mehmed in 1461) and

[ Stop press May 4, 09:00: Ed - input charge down to 2-3A this morning and batteries cool at 21-22 degrees C. Reconnected bow thruster battery and absorption phase normal. So we just await Costas to bring the replacement battery for me to install. And then we watch again. But feeling positive. 11:00 - new battery installed. Seems to be absorbing normally. Happy days! ] [ Stop press May 3, 21:00: Ed - new battery charger installed (Costas is a lovely guy). So we are back on sh

Missy Bear running down the roadstead of Modon We were running under jib down the western Peloponnese from Pylos to the bottom of the first Peloponnesian finger. The low walls of the castle and the tower at the headland jutted out into the narrow strait between the finger-end and the islands. The battlements grew steadily more apparent and imposing. The later Ottoman tower and Venetian fort Then we gybed onto starboard tack and broad reached down the roadstead to what the Ven

Giolova Lagoon - the green wetland. Missy Bear is in the turquoise bay to the right with Pilos just visible "Knock knock." "Who’s there?" "Amos." "Amos who?" "A mosquito" We were just drifting off to sleep. We were at anchor, the sea was calm, taverna music from the shore played quietly, there was an occasional slapping of water against Missy Bear, when suddenly… Richard smacked his ear. That could only mean one thing. A mosquito! We both sat up and put lights on. Not a trac