Shushtar’s waterworks in Iran

Lately, pictures of the Shushtar waterworks in Central Iran keep circulating, underscoring that they are registered as a Unesco World Heritage Site. More importantly, they have been dated back to the 5^th century BC and were probably initiated by King Darius the Great. 

[Picture from Wikipedia]

Localizing Shushtar on a map is one thing but linking it to a known city or river is another matter. Then I read that the water was diverted from the Karun River using manmade canals dug through the natural rock. 

The Karun River rings bell as I spent a night in the city of Ahwaz not far from Susa and could see this river from my hotel room (see: The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps). The memorable city of Susa (see: Susa with its unique glazed brick walls) where Alexander organized his lavish wedding ceremony in 324 BC, lies no more than three kilometers away from the Karun River (Pasitigris in antiquity), and joins the Tigris River further south. In those days, these waterways were navigable and a priceless connection to the Persian Gulf. 

The above makes me believe that Alexander must have seen this intricate water complex. Thanks to a systems of qanats (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind), the river provided water for domestic use and irrigation of the surrounding agricultural fields. Surprisingly, the main crop was sugar cane. 

Over the centuries, the infrastructure was improved with more canals, tunnels, dams, and watermills. In the early years of the Sassanid Empire, starting in 224 AD, Shushtar occupied an island in the middle of the Karun River and became the summer capital of the kings. The city was reachable from the east, west, and south through entrance gates and bridge crossings. 

Three large dams were built by the Sassanids between 224 and 651 AD. They regulated the river and the manmade channel’s flow to supply water to the city and cultural land around it. 

The largest dam, constructed by Roman soldiers and engineers was about 500 meters long. It dates from 260 AD, shortly after the glorious victory of King Shapur I over the Roman Emperor Valerian (see: Sassanid reliefs tell a story of their own). The dam was the core structure of the Shushtar Water System. It is said to be the most eastern Roman construction of its kind. The bridge with Roman arches supported the road that led from Pasargadae to Ctesiphon, the capital of the Sassanid Empire (now in Iraq). 

To prevent erosion, the riverbed above the dam was paved with large slabs tied together with iron clamps. 

[Picture from Tehran Times]

The pictures of Shushtar reveal how impressive these waterworks were. Later Arab conquerors defined Shushtar as one of the wonders of the world.

About decrees and multilingual inscriptions

In antiquity, news was carried by word of mouth, but legal matters and other important information were cut in stone and placed in a conspicuous spot for everyone to see. 

The majority of inscriptions are Decrees of which I can only mention a selection. 

At the Acropolis Museum, there is a stele with decrees for the construction of the temple and altar of Nike by Kallikrates, for the reorganization of the cult, and for the salary of the priestess of the goddess dated 427-424 BC (side A) and 424-423 BC (side B).

Also a stele with a series of Decrees by which the Athenians bestowed economic, commercial, and military privileges on their ally Methone in Pieria. 

It shows the goddess Athena shaking hands with perhaps Artemis, dated 430-423 BC.

Very broken but still readable is the Athenian Decree honoring Neapolis (modern Kavala) for its support in the war against Thasos and its constant commitment to her. 

In the upper right corner, we recognize the goddess Athena extending her hand towards another figure, probably the goddess Parthenos of Neapolis, dated from 410-409 BC.

A very elegant stele with a horse and an olive wreath carries an inscription in which the Athenians honored King Alcetas of Epirus for his help during their military expedition to Corcyra (modern Corfu) in 373-372 BC.

And finally, still at the Acropolis Museum, there is the long Decree of Chalkis on the island of Euboia in which the islanders were forced to swear loyalty to Athens after failing in their revolt of 446-445 BC. 

The people of Chalkis could punish their own citizens, except in cases that involved death, exile, or the loss of their rights as citizens, where the power of Athens prevailed.

The National Archaeological Museum in Athens has its own rich collection of Decrees. A good example is the honorary inscription from Piraeus dating from 347-346 BC. 

The stele honors the three sons of Leukon (depicted), king of the Cimmerian Bosporus, thanking them for services rendered to the people of Athens and allowing them to import grain free of duty.

A particular stele from 355-354BC was found near the Monument of Lysicrates in Athens. 

It honors Philiskos, son of Lykos of Sestos in the Thracian Hellespont as a public guest and benefactor of Athens. In 356 BC, Philiskos had warned the Athenians of the hostile presence of the fleet of Byzantium that threatened the city’s grain supply.

The Eleusis Museum, in turn, exhibits a decree providing for the construction of a footbridge across Lake Rheitoi on the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis, dated 421 BC.

Two fragments from an unidentified monument carry a Royal Decree of Alexander, which defines the limits of ‘land’, meaning the agricultural area that Philippi supervised. 

The (partial) inscription dates from 336-334 BC, just before Alexander started his campaign East. It is kept at the Museum of Philippi.

On a different level, there is a Decree sanctioning the people and city of Iasos for conspiring against King Mausolos of Caria. 

It is kept at the Louvre in Paris and dates to 370-350 BC. 

 

The Foundation Decree of Cyrene in North Africa is a covenant between the citizens of Cyrene in ca. 322 BC and those of their mother-state of Thera. 

The exact purpose is uncertain, but it is thought that the citizens of Thera, including the early settlers of 631 BC, were granted the same rights and freedoms as the Cyreneans, even though Cyrene was wealthier than Thera at the time.

Of another level is, for instance, the trilingual stele from Letoon in the Xanthos Valley found near the Temple of Apollo. It holds a public Decree authorizing the cult of the deities and establishing the provisions for its officers.
The Decree is written in Lycian, Greek, and Aramaic, which are not verbatim translations of each other. Each version contains information that is not translated into the two other tongues. The Aramaic text with 27 lines is the shortest, followed by Greek with 35 lines, and Lycian with 51 lines. Useless to point out that this stele helped to decipher the peculiar Lycian language. This unique document can be seen at the Fethiye Museum.

The story of this stele reminds us of the Rosetta Stone, which helped to decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphs and Demotic script using the Greek version carved on the same stone. The text is a Decree issued by King Ptolemy V of Egypt in 196 BC and was key to deciphering the hitherto unknown hieroglyphic signs. 

Trilingual inscriptions are not isolated cases. In ancient Persia, it was current practice to leave inscriptions in three languages to make sure everyone in the vast empire would be notified: Elamite, Old Persian, and Babylonian. The best-known lines are carved on the cliff wall of Bisutun, where Darius I celebrates his victory over Gaumata and eight more pretenders to the throne in 518 BC as represented above.

The trilingual inscriptions on the Palace walls of Pasargadae, and Persepolis are mainly continuous reminders of the power of the King of Kings who ruled by the grace of Ahuramazda, repeating their title of Great King. These were defined in full by Cyrus the Great: Great King, King of Persia, King of Anshan, King of Media, King of Babylon, King of Sumer and Akkad, and King of the Four Corners of the World.

Perhaps the most remarkable panels are set in the spectacular landscape close to the fast-running mountain river and lovely waterfalls of Ganj Nameh, some five kilometers southwest of Hamadan. As is customary, each text starts by praising Ahuramazda and continues describing the lineage and deeds of Darius I on the left panel and his son Xerxes on the right. It reads: "The Great God [is] Ahuramazda, greatest of all the gods, who created the earth and the sky and the people; who made Xerxes king, and outstanding king as outstanding ruler among innumerable rulers; I [am] the great king Xerxes, king of kings, king of lands with numerous inhabitants, king of this vast kingdom with far-away territories, son of the Achaemenid monarch Darius." (see: The Bisutun relief of King Darius I).

I’d like to close with the impressive Monument of Opramoas in Rhodiapolis. He was a great benefactor who contributed lavishly to the reconstruction of most Lycian cities after the devastating earthquake of 141 AD. He must have been terribly wealthy, for it seems that every single Lycian city mentioned his name in thanks. The construction blocks of the Monument listing his good deeds were strewn over a wide area until, in 2016, archaeologists managed to sort them out and reconstruct the walls of his Monument (see: The Monument in honor of Opramoas of Rhodiapolis is taking shape).

Its text, the longest ever found in Lycia or perhaps even in all of Anatolia, contains 12 letters Opramoas exchanged with the Roman Emperors and Antoninus Pius in particular, 19 letters to the Roman Procurator, and 33 various documents related to the Lycian League. 

The reasons for leaving an inscription widely vary, and the list is endless. I stopped at a few of the most telling examples that caught my attention.

Remembering Alexander’s birthday

We can be certain that Alexander never expected a hoard of tetradrachms with his effigy to be found and cherished nearly 2,500 years after his death. If that is not a worthy birthday gift, what is? 

This find dates from 2017, when a farmer recovered the coins from his land near Batman, on the confluence of the Tigris River and the Batman River in southeastern Turkey. The coins were all Alexander tetradrachms minted in the period between 332 and 322 BC. 

The coins fell into the hands of a Turkish collector, who said the hoard was complete, although no container was recorded. Since then, all the coins have been sold and disappeared from the radar. This means we only have the collector’s word for the information that has transpired. 

The coins were minted in several of the 25 known locations, such as Amphipolis, Aradus (Syria), Side, Sidon, and to a larger extent (one-third) in Babylonia. 

The Amphipolis mint was very active during the regency of Antipater, although the silver did not originate from local mines. The majority of the precious metal came from looting, and by far the largest amounts were collected by Alexander from the Achaemenid Treasuries in Babylon, Persepolis, Pasargadae, and Ecbatana (see: Harpalos’ mismanagement or is it Alexander’s?). We will remember that the king borrowed money when he started his invasion of Asia and took the bullion from the cities as he conquered them. 

The Batman hoard may have belonged to one of the Greek and/or Balkan mercenaries Alexander disbanded in late 325 or early 324 BC, or to one of his Macedonian veterans he sent home after the mutiny at Opis in 324 BC. This last group of 10,000 veterans, led by Craterus, was moving slowly through Cilicia when the news of Alexander’s death reached them. In antiquity, the Batman region was on the border between the satrapies of Armenia and Mesopotamia, not far from Cilicia. For that reason, it makes sense to link the hoard to the demobilized soldiers commanded by Craterus. 

It is important to realize that the Alexander coins were minted according to the standard Attic drachma of 4.3 grams. It has been estimated that between 333 and 290 BC, approximately 60 million tetradrachms were produced (see: A few words about Alexander mints and coins). More importantly, every soldier, veteran, and foreigner was totally familiar with Alexander’s picture and trusted the value of the coin bearing his image. For a long time, coins with Alexander's image kept circulating because his veteran soldiers were used to receiving their pay in tetradrachms!  

It remains questionable whether or how many of the 60,000,000 tetradrachms will ever be found. As the coins keep surfacing, we have to thank Alexander for his long-lasting legacy. By wishing him “Many Happy Returns,” we truly pay tribute to the timeless legacy he has left us. 

Aristobulus, more than a biographer

Aristobulus of Cassandreia has been listed among the many biographers of Alexander the Great (see: Eyewitness accounts of Alexander’s life), but he was far more than that. He did not hold any military function in Alexander’s army. Consequently, not being involved allowed him to approach the events as an onlooker. 

He must have been a tough guy since he survived the hardships of Alexander’s campaigns, including the march through the Gedrosian Desert. He seems to have lived to be over ninety years old. 

When he was 83, he began writing his book about the exploits of Alexander from the early days of his kinship to his death. He was blessed with an excellent memory, being able to recall so many events, novelties, and details! Apparently, his book was finished at about the same time as Ptolemy and Cleitarchus published theirs, 285-283 BC. Unfortunately, most of his work is lost. We only have a few scraps together with his observations recorded and used later by Arrian and Strabo. 

We may assume that Aristobulus’ accounts were exact and reliable. He had a wide field of interest and investigated the land, the animals, the many peoples he encountered, the public buildings, and other construction works. Alexander’s military campaign was not his priority. 

He is best known as the engineer/ architect in charge of restoring Cyrus’ Tomb in Pasargadae, a serious responsibility that clearly shows how much Alexander trusted his capabilities. 

Aristobulus, however, was mainly a geographer. He spent much time analyzing and describing the fauna and flora he encountered, the rainfall and the Indian monsoon (whose arrival he recorded in Taxila), the rivers, and the different climates. He drew an in-depth comparison between India and Egypt, including their environment. He analyzed the river courses, placing them in a broader context as trade routes throughout Central Asia and Punjab. 

The Oxus (see: Crossing the Oxus River), for instance, was the longest river, he said, that was navigable and used to transport goods from India to the Caspian Sea. Another river that caught his attention was the Polytimetus (see: Alexander's march to Maracanda) in Sogdiana, which did not flow into another river or a sea, but petered out in the desert. 

On the other hand, fragments of Aristobulus’ text on plants have been preserved. He tells us how rice was cultivated in beds in the backwaters and that the plants were 1.75 meters tall. He said that since each plant had several ears, the harvests were plentiful, adding that the grains had to be hulled. 

The geographer also spent ink on the importance of Alexander’s visit to Siwah. Unlike fellow biographers of the king, Aristobulus detailed Alexander’s route. Ptolemy stated that Alexander headed directly for Memphis. Aristobulus, instead, wrote that the king left from Paraetonium and followed the Mediterranean for about 290 kilometers before turning south to Siwah. On the way back, Alexander founded the city of Alexandria. This implies that he returned over the same route as the one used on his outward journey. Again, this is the version of events as copied by Arrian.

We know very little about Aristobulus’ fascinating personality, but he is one of the rare authors who draws an overwhelmingly positive picture of Alexander. He depicts him as a righteous king, concerned about justice and not making hasty decisions. Another of his remarkable declarations is that Alexander was not a heavy drinker but liked to spend time with his companions, toying with his drink. That is a far cry from the many statements or hearsay statements depicting Alexander as a heavy drinker and even that the wine led to his premature death in Babylon! 

Aristobulus rightfully declares that Alexander was under the protection of the gods. Nowadays, we would say that he was born under a lucky star. Why not?

The Gate of Cyrus at Pasargadae (near Persepolis)

About five years ago, I mentioned that the foundations of a city gate had been discovered in Pasargadae (see: Archaeological research resumed at Pasargadae). At that time and pending further research, it was assumed that it had probably been built by Cyrus the Great to celebrate his victories.

By now, archaeologists have been able to prove that this gateway had indeed been built upon the orders of Cyrus and that it was actually used from the reign of his son, Cambyses onward. Although the article published in the Archaeology News Network speaks of a gate near Persepolis, it is clear that we are talking about the same monument. After all, Pasargadae lies only 40 kilometers from Persepolis.

This imposing gate measured 30 x 40 meters and once stood 12 meters high. It was entirely made of mudbricks which were covered with glazed bricks as we know from Persepolis, for instance. However, the composition apparently was inspired by similar decorations from Babylon where the lower section was embellished with lotus flowers and the higher portion of the wall displayed mythical animals.

The colors have faded dramatically but the outlines of the flowers and animals are not too difficult to recognize.

Also noteworthy is the fact that the central rectangular room of 8 x 12 meters bore cuneiform inscriptions in Babylonian and Elamite.

[Pictures are from the Archaeology News Network]

The art of creating purple dye

Purple dye made from the tiny murex shell pops up on a regular base throughout antiquity. It was an expensive coloring material reserved for royalty and other people of high rank who could afford it. With it, came the symbol of power and prestige which was particularly exploited by the Roman emperors and their ladies parading with their flashy robes.

The fashion seems to have started in ancient Phoenicia, where the shells were widely harvested. As these seafarers settled in new colonies around the Mediterranean, their craft and knowledge soon spread with Carthage at its center. The Romans eyed the wealth and prosperity of Carthage, and that included this much-coveted purple dye. It is not surprising that the emperors took control of this industry since the business was very lucrative. Petra was such a hub where purple cloth and other precious goods transited on their way between Arabia Felix (modern Yemen) and the Mediterranean. The Romans eventually took control of that trade route.

However, purple spread over the ancient world much earlier. The Macedonians, for instance, used purple fabric to wrap the cremated bones of their kings before placing them inside a precious larnax (see: The Tomb of King Philip II of Macedonia). It has been reported that Alexander himself wore purple for everyday use. If we look closely at the mosaic retrieved from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, we recognize the now faded purple-grey of his tunic that originally was deep purple (see: Alexander’s battle outfit).

On several occasions during his campaign in Persia, Alexander’s booty included purple cloth. In Susa alone, he collected more than 100 tons of the precious cloth (see: Alexander’s treasure at Kyinda). This is irrefutable proof that this expensive product was widely available among those who could afford it. In any case, there still was enough material available at the time Alexander organized the Grand Susa Wedding in 324 BC. It has been documented that the floor of his vast ceremonial tent was covered with purple carpets embroidered with gold.

The Persian Empire had amassed an unbelievable amount of wealth since the days of Cyrus the Great. This ruler’s tomb in Pasargadae, for instance, was carpeted with purple rugs. Also the mattress, on which Cyrus’ remains were resting, was colored purple. Median trousers and robes were dyed in a wide range of colors, the most prominent ones being hyacinth and purple.

Persepolis was another place rich with purple draperies and carpets. Diodorus states that the Persian wealth had even rubbed off onto the ordinary people who possessed “garments tainted with sea purple and embroidered with gold.”

The custom of wearing purple was perpetrated down to Seleucos I Nicator as seen on the rare mosaic from Apamea (see: The unique mosaic from Apamea), and to the Indian King Sopeithes, who ruled over a city on the Hydaspes River, tentatively identified as Bhera (see: The realm of King Sopeithes included modern Bhera?)  

This popularity of purple brings me to the next question: How exactly was this Tyrian or Phoenician dye made? The recipe has remained mostly secret until today as only a handful of people around the world knew the techniques involved.

The Archaeology News Network recently published a very revealing article about a man from Tunisia (to which Carthage belonged in antiquity) who started the long quest in search of the tricks of the trade. It is quite amazing to hear that neither archaeologists nor historians or experts in chemistry and dying technique know how to find and recuperate the dye from the murex shell. No historical document apparently provides any detailed information about the production method involved.

[Picture from Archaeology News Network (Credit: Fetih Belaid/AFP)]

Mohamed Ghassen Nouira, who runs a consulting company, had to start his investigation from scratch. Initially, he thought it would be enough to crush the whole shell in the hope of seeing how the concealed sea snail would release its fascinating color. He spent years on the project, confessing that he had to get used to the foul stench first. Who would have thought of that? In the end, he discovered that the dye is contained in the guts of the sea snail. The exact procedure is now a secret this Tunisian is carefully keeping to himself.

Artists, as well as researchers, are his main customers in the international market. Current prices range from $2,800 to $4,000 per gram, but our Tunisian man claims he sells his pure purple dye for less money. Well, considering that it takes 100 kg of murex shell to obtain one single gram of dye, it is not surprising that prices are sky-high.

As mentioned in the book The Macedonian War Machine by David Karunanithy, the final color could vary from rose-pink through bright red and blue to deep purple, depending on the strength of the dye used and its degree of exposure to sunlight. One seashell fits all, right?

It would be great if the wish of Mohamed Ghassen Nouira to have his work exhibited in the Tunisian museums would materialize. I think many other countries, especially around the Mediterranean Sea, should be interested as well. This ancient tradition truly deserves to be kept alive.

An eye for beauty in spite of the daily challenges

On a lovely autumn day, I was enjoying a picnic high up the hills among the ruins of Tlos, overlooking the Xanthos Valley. My mind automatically drifted away to Alexander, who must have ridden down this very valley towards Patara, Letoon, and Xanthos. I pictured him proudly riding his faithful Bucephalus, who was happily shaking his colorful tassels and twinkling bells.

In my pleasant mental picture, I imagined a good-humored Alexander enjoying the ride and the beauty of the land with Hephaistion at his side. No history book will mention this, of course. The landscape, roads, or weather conditions are no topic unless they reach extremes.

The few such exceptions our historians picked up are, for instance, the blizzards that hit the army on the passes of the Hindu Kush, the never-ending monsoon rains in India, and the flash flood in the Gedrosian Desert. Otherwise, we can only use our imagination, and that is not easy since most of us have not traveled to those faraway lands.

I feel privileged to have trodden in the footsteps of this great conqueror on several occasions, but to truly appreciate what is involved, we would have to venture out on foot. Only a handful of braves have set out on such an adventure. Traveling by plane or car, as is common nowadays, does not allow us to experience the impact of the elements. The wind, the rain, the heat or the cold remain blocked until we step outside of our metal cocoon. We miss out on the smells of the land, the dust, the fog, the crispy frost in the air. The most common sounds of bleating sheep, mooing cows, the songs of the birds, and the laughter of children are stifled entirely.

The topic of the weather fully hit me when I drove south along the Zagros Mountains in a relentless dust storm. The sands from Mesopotamia were carried through the air in sweeping gusts. As long as I sat inside the comforts of my vehicle, I only noticed a hazy landscape, but as soon as I left my protective shell, the grains hit me in the face, stinging me with thousands of needles. The wind was tearing at my clothes, the sand was crushing between my teeth, and breathing became difficult. Alexander must have known such days. 

The role of the landscape and the climate during Alexander’s campaign became even more apparent to me after reading “The Road to Oxiana” by Robert Byron. This book is a true eye-opener when it comes to envisioning the full scale of his daily challenges.

In 1933, Byron traveled from Damascus to Baghdad and crossed Persia to finally reach Afghanistan one year later.  It is quite exciting to discover that long stretches of his route match the itinerary taken by Alexander more than 2,000 years earlier. The landscape is a commanding factor common in both cases. Then and now, roads run along the same rivers, pass the same oases and towns, skirt the same deserts and mountains, and use the same passes and goat tracks. I enjoy his descriptions of the many valleys in full spring bloom in Central Asia, where the fiery red poppies rule the fields as they still do in Alexander’s homeland. They are a welcome breather after witnessing the barren deserts with their frequent dust devils whirling around.

Byron hitchhiked on board lorries but also traveled by car or on horseback. Despite modern means of transportation, he did not move much faster than a traveler on foot would. Roads were often impassable because of flooding or flash floods that washed away entire portions, including bridges or other rudimentary crossings.

He used old caravanserais when there was no local governor or friendly Brit around to offer him a room for the night. Lodging was, more often than not, uncomfortable and dirty. He generously recounts the folklore details of such encounters, and it seems to me that life has not really changed much since the days of Alexander.

As I read on, I search for those landscapes and cities that most likely have seen the Macedonian army marching through. Places like Ecbatana, Persepolis, Pasargadae, Balkh, Kabul, and Peshawar, the crossing of the Elbruz Mountains towards the Caspian Sea, and the perilous trek over the Hindu Kush.

Byron describes a poignant moment as he descends to the Caspian Coast. In a few minutes, the world of stone, sand, and mud he had endured since Damascus turned into one of green-leafed trees and bushes. The everlasting drought made way for moisture as even his body somehow returned to its natural buoyancy. I imagine Alexander and his dust-covered Macedonians must have experienced the same kind of refreshing relief.

In as far as possible, Alexander used the well-maintained Persian Royal Road. Once beyond that network, it came down to finding tracks and trails. It appears that Byron had a rather similar experience, and his worst progress was made after he left Persia to enter Afghanistan.

The sudden changes in the weather pattern are widespread in that part of the world, and Byron truly undergoes these extremes. He tells how it rained all night, how the river had subsided but rose again fast, four feet deep at times. Of rain falling like bath-waste turning the road into a river for miles in a row, flooding the desert, and turning every mountain into a cataract. He describes the dark skies as cloud-wracked set against inky jagged hills.

At one time, after passing the Paropamisus, he labors for an hour and a half, ankle-deep in freezing slush, to lever away the rocks blocking the road. Landslides were common, and he mentions how not one but a dozen such landslides prevented him from reaching Kabul overnight. A mile beyond the Shibar Pass across the Hindu Kush, which Alexander also used, Byron hits more landslides, heaps of liquid mud and pebbles concealing large rocks. The crops below the road, already half destroyed by a river of mud, are then menaced by a new spate.

Another exciting feature that is not mentioned in our history books either is the qanats. A very recognizable and ingenious water management system from antiquity that still exists today and is still functioning in some parts of the world. The quality of the river water could not always be trusted but the qanats carried the precious fluid from the snow level high up the mountains or from clean underground water tables (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind).

Earthquakes were another frequent occurrence at every stage of Alexander’s route. Surprisingly, the sudden shaking that rocked tents, as well as men and beasts, are never mentioned either. They probably were prevailing events not worth talking about.

No, this way of traveling is definitely not for the faint-hearted. Yet Alexander and his brave Macedonians constantly faced the elements. However, I like to believe that many, and especially Alexander had an eye for beauty as well. Byron tells us, for instance, that he reached the most beautiful part of his entire journey at the foot of the Hindu Kush. Of all places! After leaving the river, the road constantly climbed not in twists but followed a succession of steeply sloping saddles leading from ridge to ridge. I have seen pictures of this road in a presentation at the exhibition “Afghanistan, hidden treasures from the National Museum, Kabul” and they entirely match Byron’s description.

On the other hand, flowers must have been plentiful in antiquity creating landscapes that were familiar to Alexander. Nowadays, they have mainly disappeared from our cities and our concrete roads. I fondly recall the Macedonian fields covered with an array of spring flowers ranging from the white chamomile and pink hollyhock to the deep-red poppies and purple wild onions The explosion of colors over the rolling hills felt like a homecoming. The land was pleasantly green, crossed by refreshing clear streams tumbling down from higher elevations under the blue sky filled with fleets of puffy clouds. Yet, I came across the same picture in many other places further east to Turkey and beyond.

Truly, so much, so very much remains to be discovered and disclosed on Alexander’s whereabouts!