Central Greece

WHEN the climber reaches the top of Parnassos, 8,066 feet high, he can see, on a clear day, all Greece at his feet. On the horizon, Pindos rises in the north-west, Olympos in the north, and Athos in the north-east; beyond the Gulf of Corinth are the mountains of the Peloponnese, with the peak of Taygetos in the far distance; only in the west is the view limited by the higher summits of Corax. By its central position, its altitude, its forests and upland pastures, its running waters, and its caves draped with stalactites, Parnassos must have appeared to the Greeks as a wonder, the worthy abode of Dionysos and the Bacchants, of Pan and the Nymphs. “ All Parnassos,”says Strabo, “ is holy.” ¹ But, though it is an imposing mass, it is no barrier to the passage of man. On all sides it is turned by roads; ² on the north, the valley of the Bœotian Cephissos descends from Doris to Lake Copais; on the west, there is the road from Lamia by way of Amphissa to the Gulf of Crissa; on the south, roads run over the lesser heights joining Parnassos to Helicon. It was this disposition of ways of access, no less than the springs and volcanic exhalations, which attracted travellers and made the fame of the sanctuary of Delphi. ³ From all sides gods and men came to Delphi, and the cult preserved traces of these successive arrivals. The first homage of the natives had gone to the gods of the earth and the waters, to Ge, to Poseidon, and to Python, the serpent of the chthonian cults. Then there came from Crete, with the mariners of Cnossos, Apollo of the Dolphin, patron of sailors, counsellor of explorers and emigrants. Apollo slew the Serpent, the young god supplanted the old gods, and Pytho became Delphi. Then came the Dorian invasion;