A hot day
We were in the car again. The temperature outside was nudging 40 degrees. The last thing I was thinking of was collecting mosaic materials. We’d spent the weekend diligently looking around ancient sites (of which more later) with the sun beating down and peering at bits of old things in museum display cabinets. Now we were heading back to Athens and the idea of a swim seemed more like an imperative than a choice. The road ran next to the sea and it was just a matter of finding a place where it was easy to park so we could plunge in with no further ado.
A random stop
We chose a stretch at random which had no particular appeal – the beach was narrow and close to the road. It was not a place you’d normally want to linger but the water was clear and cool and that’s all we cared about. But as we swam out we noticed there were signs of ancient remains on the waters edge. Getting closer, we could see submerged outlines of man-made structures – walls, perhaps, or pavements.
Ancient shards
We later discovered that we had been swimming over the Roman harbour of Kechries where St. Paul landed. As the story goes, the apostle cut his hair there in fulfilment of a vow, before proceeding up the road to preach to the Corinthians.
What was intended as a quick dip turned into a happy hour of marine archaeology for David and the boys. I swam back to shore to fiddle with pebbles and to look for pieces of coloured glass worn smooth by the sea.
But this time my idle sifting was not among pebbles, but through shards of ancient pottery strewn all along the shore, as casually discarded as the cigarette butts and plastic bags of modern life.
collecting mosaic materials
What fun I had! Its no secret that the beaches on this particular shore were rich with broken pots but I had never expected such a hoard as this. I found what looked like a crudely made pot lid (top left in top photo) and a piece of clay with wavy striations (bottom middle of the same photo). Fergus discovered what must have been the base of a amphora handle.
There was nothing to stop me collecting bagfuls but, for now, I am content with a modest supply. I want to see if I can make mosaics with them. I cut a couple of pieces and laid them the flat side down with the sea-rounded edges upwards. The range of terracotta tones is gorgeous and I think that something fine could come out of them. Let’s see. If I do make something from them it will be a particular pleasure to think that one of the pieces might have been thrown aside the day St. Paul came into land, dropped by an excited follower in his eagerness to get close to the man himself.