This is part 2 of a convoluted path towards interpreting an old remote labyrinth I sought out and visited in Iceland in June 2021.
My mild fascination with labyrinths was revealed in an Ancient Dan post a few years ago, triggered by my literally stumbling upon a carved representation of one at ancient Knidos in Turkey. A recent trip to Iceland provided a chance to investigate the most remote labyrinth of Europe in a more planned and systematic manner. My circuitous trek to arrive at it was unexpectedly matched by the maze of background info on the site, legends in the region, questions about the form of the labyrinth itself, and—ultimately—how we deal with changes of direction and uncertainties of life.
Preparing for a recent trip to Iceland and looking for weird stuff to see, I chanced upon a photo showing the beached wreck of what appeared to be a World War II era “Higgins boat.” It was at the head of Mjóifjörður, a sparsely populated (11 inhabitants) fjord in remote eastern Iceland. I was determined to visit it.
In these extraordinary times, it is hard to know where the world is going. But, as the children’s book title proclaims, Everyone Poops, so the world has to go somewhere. Apparently, this is innate knowledge to judge from the panic buying and hoarding of toilet paper (or “rolls” for the UK audience). But (pun possibly … Continue reading Life, B.C. (Before Charmin): Toilet Practices in the Roman World (Or “How I Learned to Love the COVID-19 Toilet Paper Crisis”)
I have always been fascinated by monuments or memorials to the deceased and the psychology behind them, as well as the physical structures themselves. This post initiates an occasional series on monuments to long-dead Romans and other figures of antiquity by looking at the Şekerhane Köşkü; very likely the platform for a temple of the Deified Emperor Trajan . . .