Another step in time.

You are standing at the foot of a steep rise viewing Biblical history. Your heels are at the edge of a wharf and fishing village. You look up with your back to the sea, the Aegean Sea. The road down comes from the left in the picture, cobblestoned and steep. An orange cone remarks a private parking spot; there are not many. St. Paul brought his message from quay to  port, up the steps to Roman amphitheater and preached.

Now all rubble ruins seem to be the same, flowing from one to the other. People thousands of years ago walked and toiled and hoed the rocky soil, tended their grapes for wine, herded and sheared their sheep for wool and slaughtered the sheep for mutton, drove their goats amongst the cliffs, milking them for fresh milk and to make cheese.

The visitor, high atop some rock paved road, looking very much the part: French Foreign Legion draped hat, fit over sun glasses, sun screen long sleeved shirt, LL Bean kaki  trousers that have removable legs to make shorts, and a reliable Relic watch to be sure we make each pickup destination on time.

Finally, History; the path to the acropolis, where pagan gods and goddesses were reincarnated by their statues to be peacefully invaded by one who spoke of one God and would go on to incite the desecration of those representatives.