Category Archives: Archaeology

Manchu Frontierland: The Historic Willow Palisade System of Northeast China

China’s other very long and rarely remembered wall

Pastoral France and England of centuries past had their ha–ha walls𖤓𖤓 but China of the Qing Dynasty had its Willow Palisade (or wall). The willow palisade (Chinese:  柳條邊; pinyinLiǔtiáo Biān) was a system of ditches and earth embankments planted with willow trees acting as a barrier to passage. The wall, stretching a length of 1,000 miles in a northeastern direction, contained gates (men | bianmen)🅰 with wooden towers, 21 in all, at 50–mile intervals. Some sections of the palisades also had moats or dikes.


Shànhâiguan wall (arrowed in red) (image: ltl-beijing.com)

The start-point of the Willow Palisade was the terminus point of the Great Wall, the Shànhâiguan fortress, from there it wound its way up to the Northeast (Dongbei) region (formerly known as Manchuria) into the modern–day provinces of Liaoning and Jilin, terminating at the Korean border (Yalu River). The palisade consisted of three sections and like the Great Wall of China it was built in stages. The first section (Laobian, “Old Border”), together with the second section, formed the inner palisade across the Liaoning Peninsula. The third (northern) section represented the outer palisade whose purpose was to separate the traditional areas of the Manchus from those of the Mongols.

Shànhâiguan Great Wall
Willow tree (Salix Babylonia) (source: Evergreen Trees) in China is a symbol of spring and rebirth, resilience and adaptability (as well as loss and grief)
The Willow Palisade (1883 map)

The palisades as built were intended to be defensive, strategic and restrictive. Most historians and Sinologists see their primary purpose as creating a barrier to keep Chinese immigrants from entering Manchuria. The Manchu Dynasty’s desire to exclude them from the northern territories stems from a fear of its homeland being swamped by the masses of Han Chinese [Elliott, Mark C. “The Limits of Tartary: Manchuria in Imperial and National Geographies.” The Journal of Asian Studies 59, no. 3 (2000): 603–46. https://doi.org/10.2307/2658945.] A restrictive policy was seen as crucial to the preservation of Manchu culture and identity [Bulag, Uradyn E. “Rethinking Borders in Empire and Nation at the Foot of the Willow Palisade.” Frontier Encounters: Knowledge and Practice at the Russian, Chinese and Mongolian Border, edited by Franck Billé et al., 1st ed., Open Book Publishers, 2012, pp. 33–54. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vjss5.6. Accessed 21 Mar. 2025.] Robert Lee and Bulag attribute the installation the wall of willows to a strategy to prevent an alliance forming between the Mongols and the Chinese…keeping the two groups apart would negate a potential threat to the ruling Manchu dynasty [Robert Lee, quoted in Bulag].

(source: Britannica)

There were economic reasons to block Chinese migrating to the Northeast. As well as wanting to relocate in the more productive agrarian lands of Manchuria, many Chinese (and some Tartars) sought to poach the region’s rich harvests of ginseng. Sable was another valuable northern resource that the Manchus wanted to keep secure from southern poachers [Kim, Seonmin. “Managing the Borderland.” Ginseng and Borderland: Territorial Boundaries and Political Relations Between Qing China and Choson Korea, 1636-1912, 1st ed., University of California Press, 2017, pp. 77–103. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt1w8h1p0.11. Accessed 21 Mar. 2025.]

Another intended purpose of the Willow Palisade was to keep trespassers from Korea from venturing west into Qing Dynasty territory. Edmonds however contends that the part of the natural wall in proximity to Korea functioned more as “an internal boundary rather than the demarcation of the China/Korea border” [Richard L. Edmonds, ‘The Willow Palisade’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, Vol 69, Issue 4, December 1979, pp.599–621].

North China Plain (photo: undp.org)

By the early part of the 18th century the ineffectiveness of the Willow Palisade was apparent. The porous palisade was failing badly in its aim of checking the transgression of Han Chinese immigrants and ginseng poachers into Manchuria which had become by the 1730s a constant flow (Bulag). The prohibition against crossing into the Chinese Pale was in any case not a watertight one, if the circumstance demanded more seasonal labourers for land cultivation or such, it was temporarily rescinded [Michael Meyer, ‘The Lesser Wall’, 06–June–2012, ChinaFile, www.chinafile.com]. Han refugees in the 1780s were imported into Manchuria and Inner Mongolia to farm produce.

Under the Manchus, by the mid–18th century control over the palisades was eroding – soldiers were now only guarding the areas near the gates. Willow Palisade maintenance was being neglected and the tree wall was deteriorating alarmingly with gaps in the willows and trees being cut or pruned for fuel as well, the dikes were wearing away and the palisade had become superfluous as a barrier of any utility. In the 20th century the Willow Palisade disappears from sight and from memory and history altogether. The 1,000–mi long, uncelebrated northern wall does not feature on any modern maps of China or the region. Very little physical evidence is left of the palisade…attempts to retrace the route have tended to rely on drawing the dots between villages in the northern provinces for the nearest approximation of location, the clue being any village name ending in –men (the word for “gate”), eg, Ying’emen (Meyer).

Early (20th Willow Palisade map: Liaoning section to Kaiyuan and points northeast
Willows in Tongli water town, Jiangsu (source: Japonica Plant Nursery)

At eye–level the Willow Palisade’s shape resembles the Chinese character representing a “person striding forward”  – described as “a wishbone of soil and trees” (Meyer)

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

𖤓𖤓 Ha-ha wall: a recessed landscape design element that creates a vertical barrier to entry (particularly on one side) while preserving an uninterrupted view of the landscape beyond from the other, higher side (also known as a sunk fence, blind fence, ditch and fence, deer wall or foss).

The ha-ha wall

A note on the name “Manchuria”:: The oft-used name “Manchuria” is a controversial one in PRC due to its Japanese imperial associations – it derives from the Japanese exonym Manshū (from the name of the local people, the Manchus). The Northeast region of China has alternately but less commonly been referred to as “Tungpei”.

The Sea Peoples Puzzle and the Collapse of Civilisations in the Late Bronze Age

By about 1200 BC the Late Bronze Age in the Eastern Mediterranean and Aegean world was in turmoil. War and the movement of peoples around the region abounded as international trade ceased, cities crumbling and civilisations collapsed. With a scarcity of hard evidence for a period of history so very distant from our own, the default explanation of many historians until recent times was that the large-scale collapse and destruction was down to one factor, the emergence of vast hordes of nomadic warriors, enigmatic and mysterious pirates and marauders which have been subsumed under the name “Sea Peoples”𝕒. Very little is known of the Sea Peoples outside of what the ancient Egyptians have recorded about these shadowy invaders of the Eastern Mediterranean littoral…which is problematic for historical enquiry in itself – having “the (hefty) disadvantage of being known only by their enemies” [Duke, T. T. The Classical Journal, vol. 65, no. 3, 1969, pp. 134–37. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3296263. Accessed 15 Feb. 2025]

Late Bronze Age (credit: Finn Bjørklid / creativecommons.org)

The assumption that the Sea Peoples were pretty much wholly responsible for the collapse of civilisations in the Eastern Mediterranean in the 12th century BC has been challenged by historians of recent time. This revisionist view maintains that other factors could equally have caused the carnage of that world…drought, grave food shortages leading to a state of famine, the effects of climate change. Research into early agro-economies indicates their vulnerability to drought and long-term temperature change owing to general cooling which truncates their crop-growing season [McCormack et al (2012) cited in Wiener, M. H., FISCHER, P. M., & BÜRGE, T. (2017). Causes of Complex Systems Collapse at the End of the Bronze Age. In “Sea Peoples” Up-to-Date: New Research on Transformation in the Eastern Mediterranean in 13th-11th Centuries BCE (1st ed., pp. 43–74). Austrian Academy of Sciences Press. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt1v2xvsn.7].

Egyptian hieroglyphics

Historian and archaeologist Eric H Cline in particular argues that rather than being the perpetrators of the mega-devastation that befell the region by ca.1177 BC, the Sea Peoples were victims of the collapse as much as anyone else. Cline describes them as refugees fleeing from the drought and famine of cities and civilisations collapsing asunder [‘The Late Bronze Age Collapse and the Aftermath’, Eric H. Cline with Javier Mejia, YouTube interview 2024].

Medinet Habu: Ramesses III’s memorial temple

Primary sources illuminating the identity of the Sea Peoples: The first reference we have to the Sea Peoples is the Amarna Letters of Upper Egypt (ca.1345 BC), clay tablets mentioning, among other things, the existence of and contact with various foreign peoples named as the Sherden, Lukka and Danuna. The richest source of information on the activities of these mysterious seafaring tribes resides in Medinet Habu, Ramesses III’s memorial temple near Luxor. The inscriptions of the scribes tell the Egyptian version of the story of the Sea Peoples who having defeated all other city-states and settlements in their way, launched an armada and land force led by the kingdom of Ekwesh, attacking the Nile Delta with the objective of establishing settlements on its fertile farmlands𝕓. They launched three attempts at invasion of Egypt over a period of 30-odd years and three times they were defeated by the Egyptians. The temple walls reveal the death toll and punishments of the vanquished Sea Peoples and the enslavement of many of them (some of the captured Shardans were incorporated into the Egyptian army to defend the kingdom’s northern frontiers from the Hittites).

Pictorial depictions (above & below) of the Battle of the Nile Delta (ca.1178 BC) (Medinet Habu)

So, who were the Sea Peoples and where did they come from?: In regard to the identity of the Sea Peoples the extant records give us names but little understanding of who they were. There appears to have been at least nine culturally separate tribal groups–including the Sherdan, the Peleset, the Lukka, the Shekelesh, the Tjekker, the Denyen (or Danuna), the Ekwesh, the Teresh, the Meshwesh and the Weshesh—some much better known than others. They formed themselves into a warring confederation (Egyptian records give it the name the “Nine Bows Confederation” whilst under the leadership of King Meryey of Libya). The question of their origins is more problematic to scholars. The Lukka is associated with the region of Lycia (in Anatolia) although they were thought to be highly mobile. Historians have tended to identify the Peleset with the later Philistines (in the Bible also called Phlishtim (“invaders”) and located vaguely in the region of the Aegean. The Shekelesh have been associated with the island of Sicily although this wasn’t necessarily their original homeland as it’s also speculated that they may have moved there some time during the Bronze Age. The origins of the Sherden (or Shardan) is equally mysterious, with some archaeologists placing them within the Nuragic civilisation of Sardinia. The Tjekker have been variously linked to Canaan, Eastern Crete and the Sicals of Sicily, but without any conclusiveness. The Ekwesh are thought to have been from or based in the land of Libya, as was the Meshwesh. The origins of other groups are even more shadowy, such as the Denyen (or Danuna), the Karkiya and the Weshesh. Balancing these theories, Cline and other noted scholars hypothesise that the Sea Peoples’ migration began from the Western Mediterranean.

The Sea Peoples wearing distinctive feathered headdresses – as depicted on Ramesses II’s temple (source: Texas A&M University)

As Prof. Cline summed up the enigmatic Sea Peoples story: “the simple answer is that there is no simple answer. It remains an archaeological mystery that is the subject of much debate even today, more than 150 years after the discussions first began”. 

𝕒 “Sea Peoples” was not a term used by contemporaries—Egyptians called them simply “Northerners”—but arose out of convenience to describe disparate groups of peoples thought to have come from islands and coastal areas of the Mediterranean (in reality, ironically, some came not from the sea at all!). What is established is that the Sea Peoples pursued a systematic pattern of invading and defeating the smaller empires and states of the region (Hittite kingdom, Mycenae (Greece), Syria, the Levant), culminating in a series of invasions of Egyptian Empire between ca.1213 BC and ca.1177 BC. They were repulsed and routed by the Egyptians (according to the Egyptian inscriptions) during the reigns of three succeeding pharaohs. The final Egyptian victory under Pharaoh Ramesses III was a Pyrrhic one. The war weakened the Egyptian economy to the point of bankruptcy, the empire was greatly diminished in size and by ca.1250 BC the Egyptian New Kingdom was finished.

𝕓 the Sea Peoples were atypical invaders, accompanying the fighting men was an entourage that included the families of the raiders and their livestock. The phenomena was a complete package, it’s objective included migration and the settlement of good farming lands…all of this added weight to the theory that the Sea Peoples were refugees in search of a permanent home

𓂉 𓂉 ༗༗𓁈 ༗ ༗𓁈 ༗༗ 𓁈 ༗༗𓂉 𓂉

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Lost Medieval Cities on the Caspian Sea Littoral

The Caspian “Sea”—geographically more correctly an inland saltwater lake, the biggest of its kind in the world—is bordered by five modern nations, Kazakhstan and Russia (to the north), Azerbaijan (west), Turkmenistan (east) and Iran (south). With a melting pot of ethnicities in the region, below we will meet some medieval cities situated on the Caspian littoral that prospered for a time during the Middle Ages before vanishing entirely from history.

Aktobe–Laeti, located south of Atyrau City on the northern shore of the Caspian Sea (image: researchgate.net)

Lost city of Aktobe–Laeti: Archaeologists whose fieldwork focuses on the Caspian Sea and Caucasus regions have had much to occupy themselves with in recent decades. Systematic excavations started in the 1970s and have unearthed hitherto-disappeared sites like Aktobe–Laeti, a buried urban settlement on the Great Silk Road route that thrived in the 14th and 15th centuries. Atkobi–Laeti is located in the Atyrau (western) region of Kazakhstan. Archaeologists discovered that the settlement contains three cultural layers on top of each other (cf. Troy). Furnaces and fragments found among the debris point to the erstwhile city having skilled artisans in metalwork and pottery crafts. Many of the newly unearthed artefacts are now on display at the local history museum [‘Ancient Land of the Caspian Sea Holds Secrets of the Past’, Aruzhan Ualikhanova, The Astana Times, 15-July-2023, www.astanatimes.com].  

Excavations of Atkobe–Laeti (photo: assembly.kz)

Reconstructing a Golden Horde settlement: It’s estimated that at its peak Aktobe–Laeti housed around 10,000 inhabitants who traded their goods and wares with travelling foreign merchants. It’s key position on the Silk Road linking Central Asia and the lower Volga and evidence of the minting of coins suggest that the city was a prosperous one during these times. Traces of a substantial urban settlement in Aktobe–Laeti having existed, contradicts the established view that the peoples of the Caspian Sea led exclusively nomadic lives (Ualikhanova).

In the 14th century this important city of commerce could be identified on maps of Italian travellers but by the 16th century Aktobe-Laeti had vanished without a trace. There are two theories put forward that account for it’s sudden disappearance – it was submerged under the rising waters of the Caspian, or the city was destroyed by Timur of Samarkand in his vast empire-extending, take-no-prisoners rampage across central and western Asia (Ualikhanova).

Stone tablets from the sunken Bayil Qala (on display in Baku’s Old City) (source: OrexCA)

Sabayil castle, Atlantis for real: Climate change, the damming of some 100 rivers which flow into the sea including the Volga and the flow-on effects of the Aral Sea disaster, have all resulted in a shrinking of the Caspian and an on-going drop in the sea-level. The singular upside of this ominous ecological change, perhaps for archaeologists alone, is the surfacing of the upper sections of the long-disappeared Sabayil (or Bayil) Castle. The structure, built by Shirvanshah Faribirz III in 1232–1235 as an off-shore watchtower 350m from the shoreline to give the citizens of Baku advanced notice of impending attacks on the city. In 1306 the castle sank under water due to a mega-earthquake. The now visible tops of the towers reveals huge stone tablets engraved in both Arabic and Farsi script and decorations depicting imaginary animals and human faces [‘As the Caspian Sea Disappears, Life Goes on for Those Living by Its Shores’, Felix Light, Moscow Times, 27-Apr-2021, 
www.themoscowtimes.com; ‘Sabayil Castle, vicinity of Baku’, OrexCA, www.orexca.com].

Shards from the past: no archeological remains of Ithill have been positively identified; the most persuasive theory is that they were washed away by the rising tide of the Caspian Sea

Caspian cities of the Khazar Khanate: Lost cities were also a feature of the medieval Khazaria Kingdom (a large area mainly to the north and northwest of the Caspian Sea). Prominent among these were Ithill (sometimes written “Atil”) and Balanjar. Ithill’s precise location is unknown, however Russian archeologists claim to have discovered the site of Ithill (near Astrakhan in Northern Dagestan), having unearthed a fortress, flamed bricks (a speciality of the Khazars) and yurt-shaped dwellings. The claim has not been substantiated. On the Silk Road route, Ithill, the Khazaria capital at one stage, at its zenith was a major centre of trade, including the Khazaria slave trade. Ithill’s road to ruin and downfall began in the 10th century after the city was sacked by Kievan Rus led by Prince Sviatoslav I. It may have been rebuilt afterwards but it was again decimated in the 11th century and wiped off the map for keeps. Balanjar was also a capital of Khazaria for a time and a city of considerable importance. It suffered the same fate as Ithill, decimated by nomadic conquerors (in the Arab-Khazar wars), rebuilt but went into terminal decline and was no more heard of after ca.1100𖤓.

Khazars were a confederation of Turkic tribes that converted to Judaism in the 8th century (image: Military Review)

Abuskūn: Medieval Persia was the site of a lost city on the southwestern shore of the Caspian Sea, the port of Abuskūn. It’s location is uncertain but most scholars place it in within the Gorgān region. Abuskūn was a prosperous trading hub for its merchants who traded as far away as the land of the Khazars on the Volga trade route. The city’s wealth and vulnerable location made it a sought-after prize for the Rus and their Caspian expeditions. After 1220 Abuskūn is not mentioned in the documents, although in the 14th century a Persian geographer wrote that it had been an island in the Caspian which was submerged due to the sea’s rise in level.

Receding shorelines of the Caspian Sea, Aktaou, Kazakhstan (photo: Alamy Stock Photo)

Abandoned Dekhistan in the desert: Modern Turkmenistan is host to one or two lost cities of its own. The most significant was Dekhistan, aka Dekhistan-Misrian (S.W. Turkmenistan), near the eastern shore of the Caspian Sea…a ruined Silk Road city but at its peak (11th century) a major economic centre and the foremost medieval oasis in the region. It managed to survive the Mongol invasion albeit weakened, limped on till the 15th century but was ultimately undone by large scale deforestation precipitating an ecological disaster (failed irrigation system), turning the city into a ghost town. All that remains are mud-brick foundations, the outlines of a few caravanserais and what’s left of several minarets in varying degrees of decay [‘Ancient settlement of Dekhistan’, Silk Road Adventures, www.silkadv.com].

Dekhistan, deserted former city in Turkmenistan dating back to 3rd century BC (source: advantour.com)

Derbent continuity: Derbent in the Dagestan region of Russia differs from the impermanence of these other medieval Caspian cities in it having achieved a continuity of existence right through to the present day. Archeological diggings reveal that the city has clocked up nearly 2,000 years of continuous urban settlement. The existence of Derbent (romanised as “Derbend”, from a Farsi word meaning “gateway”) as a fortified settlement, was known by Greek and Roman authors as early as the 3rd century BC [‘Citadel, Ancient City and Fortress Buildings of Derbent’, UNESCO, www.whc.unesco.org]. Derbent’s strategic location, nestled tightly between natural barriers—the Caspian Sea and the Caucasus Mountains—has seen control of it pass from empire to empire – Persian, Arab, Mongol, Timurid, Shirvan and finally Russian§. Under the Persians it formed part of the northern lines of the Sasanian Empire.

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Derbent, citadel/fortress, surrounded on three sides by steep slopes and buttressed by thick, massive stone walls (photo: flickr.com)

𖤓 another Khazar city, Samandar—thought to be situated on the western shore of the Caspian roughly midway between Atil and Derbent—was also lost to history during this period

§ so prized because it allowed rulers of Derbent to control land traffic between the Eurasian Steppe and the Middle East [‘Derbent’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]

“U” and “V” Words from Left Field II: Redux. A Supplement to the Logolept’s Diet

<: word meaning root formation:>

Ucalegon: neighbour whose house is on fire or has burned down [from Gk. Oukalégōn – one of the Elders of whose house was set on fire by the Achaeans during the sack of Troy, a character in the Iliad (3.148)]

Ucalegon

Ultracrepidarian: going too far; overstepping the mark; presumptious; intruding in someone else’s beeswax [from L. ultra- (“beyond”) +‎ crepidarian (“things concerning shoemaking”); attributed to the 18th–19th cent English essayist and writer William Hazlitt]

Ululate: to howl like a wolf [from L. ululāre (“to howl or bay”)]

Ululate (source: the Conversation)

Umbersorrow:  fit, robust, sturdy, resisting disease or the effects of severe weather; rugged, uncultivated, surly disposition [from Scot. Eng. origin obscure]

Umbriferous: shady; making shade [from L. umbrifer, from umbra (“a shade”) + ferre (“to bear”)]

Undinism: the association of water with erotic thoughts; sexual arousal from urination [from Ger. undine from L. unda (“wave”)+‎ -ism]

Unidextral: capable of using one hand only [L. uni (“one only”) + –dexter (“right hand”)] ✋

Upaithric: (Arch.) (a building or structure) without a roof [Gk. Origin obscure] (Synonym: Hypethral)

Upaithric

Urorilocal: (refer to Uxorious in the Logolept’s Diet 1.0) living with one’s wife’s family  [borrowed from L. uxōrius (“of or pertaining to a wife”), from uxor (“wife”) + -local(?)]

<: word meaning root formation:>

Valetudinarian: an invalid, esp one with a tendency towards hypochondria; a person who is unduly anxious about their health [from L. valēre, (“to have strength” or “to be well”) + -arian]

Vapulatory: relating to flogging or beating [from L. vāpulō (“cry”; “wail”)]

Venery: sexual indulgence (from L. vener-, venus– (“sexual desire, sexual intercourse”) + -ery]

Verecund: modest; shy; bashful [from L. verēcundus (“shy, modest”)]

Verkramp: someone narrow-minded or extremely conservative in their views [Afrik. “cramped”]

Vetust: venerable from antiquity [from L. vetustus (“old, ancient”)]

Viduity: widowhood [from MidEng. (Scots) viduite, from L.  vidua (“widow”) + ity]

Viviseplture: the practice of burying someone alive [from Lvivus (“alive”) + sepulture (from L. sepultura (“bury”)]

Viviseplture

Voteen: a zealously pious person [from Gael. Irish. corruption of devotee + -een]

Vulpinate: to wilily cheat or deceive someone [from L. vulpes (“fox” )]

Vulpinate (source: Wild Earth Guardians)

Dilmun, the Lost Bronze Age Civilisation in the Gulf

Modern Bahrain (image: worldatlas.com)

The culmination of archaeological excavations on the island state of Bahrain during the 20th century (see endnote) saw the emergence of a fully-formed Bronze Age city that had been buried for 4,000 years. The Saar settlement, as it is known, was found to comprise two sections, a residential zone and some distance away a “honeycomb” cemetery. Archaeologists working at the site described Saar as having all the elements of a modern city including houses, restaurants, commercial outlets and a place of worship [Sylvia Smith, ‘Bahrain digs unveil one of oldest civilisations’, BBC News, 20-May-2013, www.bbc.com].

Excavated sites on Bahrain (image: archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/)

The great Qal’at tell: Saar is the not the only Bahraini site to yield evidence of ancient civilisation. Located at the northern point of the island is Qal’atal-Bahrain (Fort of Bahrain), a vast tell (artificial mound) 18-hectare in size, which when excavated revealed three early Dilmun cities (dating to 2,800BC) and one later Greek city (200BC), all built on top of one another!(ᗩ) Like Saar, Qal’atal-Bahrain had multiple human uses, public, residential, religious as well as military, and was in all likelihood the capital of the ancient Dilmun state. There are also approximately 170,000 burial mounds, in Bahrain occupying some 5% of the of the island (Smith)()…including the royal tombs at A’ali which are 15 metres in height.

The Fort , Qal’at al-Bahrain (source: UNESCO World Heritage Centre)

The archaeological finds pieced together testify to the existence of an ancient civilisation known as Dilmun (also rendered as Telmun), which means in the Akkadian language “the place where the sun rises”. The Dilmun region in antiquity—populated by an East Semitic people—stretched over an area comprising Bahrain, the islands of Failaka (today part of Kuwait) and Tarout (now part of Saudi Arabia) and a coastal strip on the East Arabian mainland.

Mesopotamia, the Gulf, Dilmun (image: peterborougharchaeology.org/)

Dilmun as entrepôt for north and south: Dilmuth is mentioned in Near Eastern historical sources, in Sumerian economic texts of the Fourth Millennium BC, written on cuneiform clay tablets, which identify Dilmun as a regional commercial centre [‘Dilmun’, Encyclopedia Britannica, www.britannica.com]. Seen from the early Mesopotamian civilisations’ perspective, the key strategic location of Dilmun was central to trade. Sumer (and Babylon) wanted the luxury commodities produced by the Indus Valley civilisations (Meluha) – spices, precious stones, ivory, etc. But to facilitate trade with the Indian merchants and secure these highly desirable goods, the Sumerians sought to avoid the overland route which took them through a habitually hostile Persia…the sea route via the Gulf and Dilmun allowed Sumer to bypass Persian territory altogether [‘The Sumerian Connection’, (Jon Mandaville), Saudi Aramco World, (1980), www.archives.aramco.org]. By this circumstance Dilmun was able to establish itself as the hub for trade between Mesopotamia and South Asia. Dilmun merchants at one point maintained a monopoly over the supply of copper, a precious commodity produced in the mines of Oman (then called Magan), also much in demand in the cities of Mesopotamia as a metal of improved durability for weapons, utensils and tools(ᑕ). Dilmun also had commercial ties with other cities in the Near East, with Elam in Iran/Iraq, Alba in Syria and Haitian in Turkey (Smith).

“Boats from the land of Dilmun carried the wood”, inscription on a relief of Ur-Nanshe (c.2550–2500 BC)

By some time around 2,050 BC an independent kingdom of Dilmun was at the apex of its powers. Control over the Persian/Arabian Gulf trading routes had made Dilmun a very prosperous state. Agriculture played its part in Dilmun’s commercial ascent as well. The countryside was fertile land both for the farming of livestock and the growing of diverse crops due to the presence of artesian springs.

Early Dilmun burial mounds (photo: Danish Gulf Expedition/Moesgaard Museum)

Decline of Dilmun: From the mid-Second Millennium Dilmun started to enter a decline. Beginning before 1,500 BC the kingdom(ᗪ) is conquered by the first of a series of dominant regional powers – the Sealand Dynasty, followed by the Middle Assyrian Empire, the Neo-Assyrian Empire and the Kessite Dynasty (Neo-Babylonian Empire). Dilmun was further weakened after 1,000 BC by the flourishing of piracy in the Gulf. By 800 BC it is no longer a trading power, having entered a Hellenistic period, it becomes Tylos. By the time of the fall of Babylon, 539 BC, the Dilmun civilisation had been abandoned.

Saar site

Dilmun in the Sumerian creation myth: In Mesopotamian mythology Dilmun held special significance to Sumerians, referred to regularly in texts as a paradisal place to the south…a pure, virginal and pristine land which the (Sumerian) god Enki provides with abundant fresh water, a place where its inhabitants are no longer plagued by the ravages of disease and old age [‘Paradise Found? The Archaeology of Bahrain’ www.peterborougharchaeology.org]. The heavenly characterisation of Dilmun has led some scholars to hypothesise that arguably it may be the location of the Biblical Garden of Eden(ᗴ).

Endnote: The key pioneering work on the location and unearthing of Dilmun civilisation was undertaken by archaeologists Geoffrey Bibby and Prof Peter Glob in the 1950s. Bibby and Glob led a Danish expedition which was the first to excavate the ruins of the ancient civilisation at the Qal’at and Saar sites and date it to the early Dilmun era.

Dilmun excavations (photo: cphpost.dk)

(ᗩ) there is also a Portuguese fort at the Qal’at site built during their occupancy of Bahrain in the 16-17th centuries

(ᗷ) prompting one academic to conjecture that perhaps as many as 20,000 people lived in Dilmun at the ancient civilisation’s peak [C.E. Larson, Life and Land Use on the Bahrain Islands (1983)]

(ᑕ) Dilmun itself exported dates and pearls, the latter especially prized for their quality, thought to be the result of the mixing of salt-water and submarine spring-waters (www.ngwa.org)

(ᗪ) Virtually nothing is known of the Dilmun dynasties or rulers other than the names of some of the kings, garnered from discovered cuneiform inscriptions (eg, Yagli-El, Ilī-ippašra)

(ᗴ) also echoed in the great epic poem of the late Second Millennium, the Gilgamesh Epic

WWII’s Psychological Warriors of the Airwaves 2: The “Axis Sallys”, Disinforming the Allies

1940s radio in the home (Source: Pinterest)

After the early prominence of “Lord Haw-Haw” in World War II (see previous blog ‘WWII’s Psychological Warriors of the Airwaves I: Lord Haw-Haw’s Career in Radio Propaganda’), the Nazis obviously thought the idea of employing native English speakers to undermine the British enemy through radio propagandising was one worth replicating against the Americans when they too entered the global conflict. For this special communications role the Germans choose a woman, moreover an expatriate American woman living in the Third Reich. 

Fräulein Gillars (Source: Alamy Stock Photo)

Mildred Gillars
Maine-born Mildred Gillars had demonstrated her loyalty to the Fatherland by staying in Germany after war broke out (not wanting to part from her German fiancé). Recruited by program director Max Otto Koischewitz for the  German State Radio (Reichsrundfunkgesellschaft), Gillars, dubbed “Axis Sally” by US GIs, had a DJ segment on Radio Berlin which was beamed over the American airwaves. Her messages to America followed predictable themes, eg, “Damn all Jews who made this war popular. I love America, but I do not love Roosevelt and all his kike boyfriends”. Gillars had visited American POWs in German camps while posing as a Red Cross worker, collected their messages for home and then after giving them a pro-Germany tweak, broadcast them on the airwaves (‘Axis Sally. World War II Propagandist/The Bride of Lord Haw-Haw!’, Rob Weisburg, Lives of the Great DJs, www.wfmu.org).

Max Koischewitz (Image: www.popularbio.com)

Berlin calling  
Gillars’s on air style was diametrically the opposite of Joyce’s hectoring tone, she used a pleasant, conversational approach which sought to sow the seeds of doubt, posing the question whether the wives and girlfriends of the serving soldiers, sailors and airmen would remain faithful during their absence. However, as with Lord Haw-Haw, many of the GIs only listened because they found Axis Sally’s shows humorous (‘6 World War II Propaganda Broadcasters’, Evan Andrews, History, Upd. 29-Aug-2018, www.history.com). 


Gillars’ greatest notoriety lies with the radio play (Vision of Invasion) she broadcast to American soldiers in England a month prior to D-Day, forecasting doom and devastation awaiting the Allies if they were to invade occupied France. After the war Gillars was apprehended and eventually returned to the US in 1948 to stand trial on 10 counts of treason. The ”voice of Axis Sally” was acquitted on nine of the counts but was convicted on the 10th count, the broadcast of Vision of Invasion. Gillars was sentenced to 10 to 30 years in a West Virginian prison and ultimately served 12 years (released in 1961).

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The strabismic but sexy sounding Rita

Axis Sally, Italian style  
In 1943 the Fascist Regime in Italy sought to capitalise on Nazi Germany’s success with the Axis Sally broadcasts by coming up with an Axis Sally of their own. Actually this Axis Sally, Rita Zucca, was born in New York of Italian parents. Rita Zucca with her sweet and seductive voice was teamed up with a German broadcaster in a radio program entitled “Jerry’s Front Calling”, spewing out defeatist propaganda from Rome to Allied troops in North Africa, Sicily and Italy. When the original ’Sally’, Midge Gillars, heard that someone else had appropriated her moniker, she was ropeable (‘Rita Zucca’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org)

One of Signorina Zucca’s ploys was using intelligence provided by the Nazis to try to deceive and confuse the Allied forces. In 1944 when the enemy advanced on Rome, Zucca fled north with the retreating Germans to Milan where she resumed her radio communication with American soldiers. After the war the victorious Allies caught up with Zucca in Turin, any plans the Americans to try the Italian-American broadcaster as a traitor were quickly squashed however after it became known that Rita had renounced her American citizenship in 1941 (before taking up her propaganda broadcasting role). Instead, Zucca was tried by an Italian military tribunal on charges of collaboration and sentenced to four years and five months. She only served nine months of her term but was barred from ever returning to the US (‘“Axis Sally” Mildred Gillars and Rita Luisa Zucca’, www.psywarrior.com) .

“Argentine Annie:” “Hello Tommy, I am Liberty” (Source: Infobae.com)

Postscript: Continuing Axis Sally’s legacy
The two Axis Sallys (and their pro-Japanese counterpart Tokyo Rose) were not to be the last we would see of female propaganda broadcasters in wartime. The Korean War produced its version in ”Seoul City Sue”, an American born missionary in Korea (Anna Wallis Suh) who defected to the North Korean side, joining “Radio Seoul” (when the city was occupied by the North) for a on air spot of undermining American troop morale in the war. The tradition continued in the Vietnam War with “Hanoi Hannah”, a North Vietnamese female broadcaster whose propaganda was directed at “war-weary” American GIs, trying to persuade them that their involvement in the Indochina war was unjust and immoral (“‘Smooth as Silk’ Vietnamese Propagandist ‘Hanoi Hannah’ Dies at 87”, Jeff Stein, Newsweek, 03-Oct-2016, www.newsweek.com). More recently, the Argentine military dictatorship (el Proceso) during the Falklands/Malvinas War in 1982 employed the same tactic of a feminine radio announcer—known as “Argentine Annie” or to the Argentinian side, “Liberty”—as the sultry-voiced Anglophone bearer of bad (and fake) news for serving British combatants in the war.

‘Argentine Annie’ (YouTube video)

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Gillars in her radio show referred to herself as “Midge at the mike”

a common refrain from Nazis and other anti-Semitic fascist wannabes such as William Joyce and the BUF was that the world war was a war caused by Jews for the benefit of international Jewry which they tended to equate with capitalism

renounced to save her family’s property from being expropriated by the Mussolini regime

’Liberty’ no doubt kept the British forces in the South Atlantic amused with her references to the Royal Marines counting sheep and bizarre diversions into the historic origins of the modern lavatory

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DeMille’s Lost “Egyptian City” Found in the Sand-dunes of Central Coast, CA

Mention “The Ten Commandments” to cinephiles and almost invariably they’ll think of the 1956 epic with Chuck Heston as the resolute Moses. But that was Cecil B DeMille’s second attempt at filming the Old Testament story, or his (Cold War-inspired) interpretation of it at least. Back when Hollywood was still in it’s adolescence, 1923, DeMille made a silent version of The Ten Commandments, in black and white with some sequences in Technicolor.

(Image: www.bestplaces.com)

The location chosen by DeMille for his first go at shooting the biblical epic was a barren 18-mile stretch of sand some 170 miles north of LA, at Guadalupe on California’s central coast. Today, the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes, as they are called, are a protected sea coast and wildlife refuge (eg, for the endangered western snowy plover) and largely unchanged, but for three months in 1923 it was a hive of mega-budget movie-making activity as DeMille transformed the empty dunes into a reconstruction of an ancient Egyptian city. DeMille chose the Guadalupe dunes for the movie set because he thought it might pass for the Egyptian desert (or at least the Sahara Desert) [‘Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes’, Atlas Obscura, www.altasobscura.com].

𐅉 ‘10 Commandments’ of California in glorious “techni-tint”

Hollywood scale extravaganza
The set was massive scale, destined to become the director’s trademark – 120 foot high by 720 feet wide, erected by 1,500 construction workers, a twelve-story tall “Egyptian city” of plaster, wood and straw. The city’s human population comprised a further 3,500 actorsand technicians plus 125 cooks to feed the assembled masses. Add to these impressive numbers some 5,000 animals, 300 chariots and 21 plaster sphinxes. Statues of Pharaoh Rameses were eleven metres tall and the facade had a 110-foot high gate enclosure✧ [‘The Ten Commandments, (1923 film)’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org; Bob Brier, Egyptomania: Our Three Thousand Year Obsession with the Land of the Pharaohs, (2013); www.lostcitydemille.com].

(Source: G-N Dune Center)

A Virtuous Camp DeMille?
DeMille had a huge makeshift tent city erected (nicknamed “Camp DeMille”) to house all of the personnel on the set. Perhaps, in keeping with the overtly religious theme of the film⊡, DeMille laid down strict rules of non-engagement for everyone involved on the production…men and women were billeted separately with no fraternisation allowed, no gambling, no alcohol and no coarse language [‘The Ten Commandments of 1923: The Exodus, Take One’, Patheos, 20-Apr-2012, www.patheos.com]. The alcohol ban adhered to the Prohibition rules in place in America at the time, but subsequent generations of beach-combing visitors to Guadalupe’s dunes have discovered evidence that participants on the movie set found a way round that…the debris of empty bottles of alcohol-laced cough syrup strewn all over the dunes [PJ Grisar, ‘How DeMille made his ‘Ten Commandments’ Jewish again’, Forward, 08-Apr-2020, www.forward.com].

A vanishing “Egyptian metropolis”
After filming of The Ten Commandments on the Central Coast finished in August 1923✥, what DeMille did next astounds. Instead of dismantling and hauling the costly set (the overall budget for the movie was a staggering $1.5M or more) back to Hollywood, DeMille had it bulldozed and buried in the Guadalupe dunes. The film-maker just didn’t want to be bothered with the logistics or expense of an enormous removal task and/or he didn’t want rival Hollywood film-makers or studios to get their hands on the set.

(Photo:www.fws.gov)

Unearthing cinematic artefacts
And there it sat—or shifted around in the constantly swirling winds of the dunes—for sixty years, one of Hollywood’s most expensive-ever film sets. Then in 1983 film-maker Peter Brosnan became intrigued after a chance encounter with the story, got hooked on it and spent the next 30 years searching for the site, finding it and trying (frustratingly) to excavate it. The project is ongoing, and has taken this length of time due to a combination of factors – local “red tape” (jurisdiction of the dunes falls under two separate counties); the site is a bird-life sanctuary with limited, seasonal access; plus there’s the extremely high cost of funding excavations. Over the years, archaeologists, both professional and amateur, have joined the quest to dig up DeMille’s treasure-trove. Buried replicas from DeMille’s Lost City have been unearthed including a 300-pound plaster sphinx which now resides in the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes Center [‘There’s a Fake Egyptian City Buried in California’, (Marissa Fessenden), Smithsonian Magazine, 15-Oct-2015, www.smithsonianmag.com]. Brosnan compiled his years of research, including interviews with surviving actors, extras and other crew members, into a documentary film, The Lost City of Cecil B. DeMille, screened in 2016.

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DeMille also bused in some 250 Orthodox Jews as extras to give the movie a more authentic Hebrew look
✧ Rameses’ ‘temple’ contained recreations of hieroglyphics copied from the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb in 1922
⊡ certainly in keeping with the sternly moralising tone of DeMille’s film
✥ only part of the film was made on the Guadalupe dunes, the wonky parting of the Red Sea scene was shot at Seal Beach in Orange County, and a modern-day morality tale DeMille tacked on to the film was shot back at the studios

The Chinese Chariot: A Weapon of Ancient Warmaking Tailored for Local Conditions

When we think of the chariot and it’s association with antiquity, those of us weened on a cultural diet of Hollywood epic cinema might think about Ancient Rome and chariot racing in the Circus Maximus (such as famously featured in Ben Hur) or Ancient Egypt (imperial chariots ostentatiously ferrying proud pharaohs to some battle or conquest in The Ten Commandments). However, those that bought the Hollywood spin on ancient history might be surprised to learn that the chariot as a vehicle for hunting, racing or war in the ancient world did not have its genesis with either Rome or Egypt.

Traditionally, most historians of the ancient world have traced the chariot’s origins to Mesopotamia and the Near East (roughly dated as somewhere around 3,000 to 2,000 BC). More recent archaeological findings have however thrown up a rival candidate, the steppes of Russia and Kazakhstan. In the 1970s archaeologists unearthed the remains of chariots in the Ural Mountains of Central Russia which are thought to be as old as 4,000 years (there has some some conjecture as to whether these were chariots or carts and wagons) [‘Secrets of the Chinese Chariot’, Documentary, UK 2016, (aired SBS 15-Nov-2019)].

Asiatic onager

The first chariots in use, whether they were in the steppes of Central Asia and Asiatic Russia, or Mesopotamia, were not powered by horses, which were relatively late to be domesticated. Instead, other four-legged beasts, especially donkeys, onagers (Asiatic wild asses) or oxen, were initially employed. The concept of horse-driven chariots can trace its origins to those same steppes, the landscape in which the horse was first domesticated [“The Wheels of War: Evolution of the Chariot” History on the Net, (© 2000-2019), Salem Media. December 9, 2019 <https://www.historyonthenet.com/the-wheels-of-war-evolution-of-the-chariot>].

The horse’s domestication in the great steppes of Asia and evidence of early chariot-making in Russia/Central Asia are clear indicators of the pathway by which the chariot arrived in China. The oldest surviving remnants of the chariot in China dates its appearance to around 1,200 BC, coinciding with the Shang period of rule (found at Anyang in Henan Province). Other items excavated at Chinese sites reinforce the early existence of chariots in Ancient Chinese society, such as the characters inscribed on oracle bones—on some of these the image of chariots can be detected (‘Secrets of the Chinese Chariot’).

Oracle bone from Shang dynasty

Chariots of a different hue

The chariot in China reached its peak in the Western Zhou (1,046-771 BC) and the succeeding Eastern Zhou periods (771-226 BC), with chariots numbering in the thousands [Mark Cartwright, ‘Chariots in Ancient Chinese Warfare’, Ancient History Encyclopedia, (13-Jul-2017), www.ancient.edu]. One of the most interesting features of the Chinese chariot is it’s distinct differences from the chariots used by the earlier Sumerian, Hittite and Egyptian civilisations. Chinese chariots tended to be plus-sized compared to those from the Near East, the Caucasus, etc. The carriages were rectangular and large, with the vehicle’s axle located at the central point of the platform, giving the vehicles better balance (Near Eastern and Egyptian chariots typically positioned the axle at the end of the chariot).

But even of more striking difference was the Chinese wheels, they were huge and of a multi-stoked variety (usually comprising between 18 and 26 stokes on each wheel). The Western Asian/Near Eastern chariot wheels of antiquity by contrast were small and compact, usually with only six stokes per wheel (even earlier ones were made of heavy solid wood). The Chinese “super-size me” wheels were designed with local conditions in mind. The lighter, more flexible wheels were better suited to China’s rough terrain, accordingly they also made the horses’ task of pulling the chariot easier too [‘Secrets of the Chinese Chariot’; Andrew Knighton, ‘ The Rise and Fall of the Chariot – It Changed History, But Eventually Was a Victim Of Its Own Success’, War History Online, 04-Nov-2016, www.warhistoryonline.com].

A symbol of one’s class

Chariot and chariot horse ownership, much like the most expensive luxury cars today, was the preserve of the very wealthy in society. The archaeological evidence found in tomb pits confirms this. Chariots were a sign of great status for the nobleman. Owners needed to be well cashed-up as the vehicles were expensive to make and to maintain. Accordingly, noblemen in China, Egypt and elsewhere, when they died, would have their chariots and their horses interred with them in their burial tombs. Chariot pits such as those discovered in 2015 at Zaoyang, Hubei Province (dating to ca. 700 BC), shed light on the chariot’s significance. An aristocrat’s power was measured in the number of chariots he owned. The aristocratic class was expected, as part of their leading military role, to have the personal skills to master the chariot in warfare [‘Pictures: Ancient Chariot Fleet, Horses Unearthed in China’, National Geographic, 28-Sep-2011, www.nationalgeographic.com].

Photo: Zhang Xiaoli, Xinhua via Fame/Barcroft

The Zaoyang pit has proved particular fertile ground for chariot exhumation. Comprising a massive area of 33m x 4m, archaeological field workers divested it of 28 chariots and 49 pairs (49 x 2 = 98) skeletons of horses neatly arranged side by side [‘Archaeologists in China find 2,800-year-old tombs surrounded by 28 chariots and 98 horses’, (April Holloway), Ancient Origins, 22-May-2018, www.ancient-origins.net].

Horses for courses

The unearthed skeletons of the horses at Zaoyang and at numerous other burial sites reveal that the Chinese ‘chariotocracy’ used a specific kind of horse for their chariotsstocky, strongly-built Mongolian horses, standing about 1.4m tall, were deemed most suitable to haul the large Chinese chariots around the countryside [‘Secrets of the Chinese Chariot’].

Chinese chariots had some features that was different from elsewhere in the ancient world. Normally, a chariot crew (ma) in action comprised two men, this was standard. But commonly in Chinese chariots there were three men on board. The driver or charioteer and the archer were accompanied on the chariot platform by a third man. Sometimes called a rongyou, his job was to protect the other two in combat armed with a kind of spear-axe or halberd (known in China as a Ji). There were also specialist war chariots in China with a “crow’s nest” (ch’ao-ch’e) attached, a tower on an elevated chassis mounted above the platform of the chariot. This permitted an army commander to observe the field of battle more easily and to communicate orders to the army’s flag wavers (Cartwright).

Another advance in weapon technology at the time, the supplanting of the all-wood bow by a new, shorter composite bow (made of wood, horn and sinew), made the mobile archer a more effective and more potent element in battles (Knighton). The streamlining of war chariots, making them lighter and more manoeuvrable, made it feasible for them to outrun light infantry and heavier chariots. These chariots were still not without their limitations or drawbacks, they required flat ground to be effectively mobile and were prone to breaking down (armies often brought chariot repair teams with them to the battlefield) [‘Chariot tactics’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org; ‘The Wheels of War’].

Role in unification of the Chinese states

The importance of chariots as a military weapon in China coincided with the period of Warring States (Zhànguó Shídài). The kings (gúowáng, 国王) of the two strongest states Qin and Chu each had about 1,000 chariots at their command, and the vehicle certainly played its part in the eventual unification of China under the Yins. But the decisive role of chariots in war, even then, was diminishing. A combination of several developments in the military sphere undercut the chariot’s effectiveness in battles—army reforms saw increased reliance on the mobility of massed infantry and cavalry (greatly diminishing the crucial role played by nobleman). Chariots could not compete with fast-moving, well-coordinated cavalry. These developments and the introduction of iron weapons, especially the lethal eight-picul crossbow (nu), blunted the effectiveness of chariot-led warfare [‘Warring States period’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].

in fact, chariot racing, so synonymous with the Romans, was a sport they copied from the Ancient Greeks (Homer’s Iliad includes a description of chariot racing in Book XXIII, ‘Chariot racing’, Britannica, www.britannica.com). Chariots were also used for hunting and funeral processions

the conspicuously affluent citizens of the day paraded their chariots around town as ceremonial vehicles in much the same way as Ferraris, Lamborghinis and other prestigious luxury vehicles are ostentatiously shown off today. The chariots were decorated colourfully and elaborately with cowrie shells and bronze fittings

the charioteers were the most costly, prestigious and influential section of the army (Knighton) with entry to its ranks very competitive. The Luiu-t’ao (Six Secret Teachings), (5th-3rd BC military treatise, describes the necessity for chariot warriors to be the best and fittest in the army (age, height and agility standards had to be met) (Cartwright)

crossbows proved the nemesis of the war chariot, and once humans were successful in bending horses to obey their will, fleet-of-foot cavalry units could inflict considerably more damage on the enemy line than chariots could (‘Secrets of the Chinese Chariot’)

Wall’s End: The Great Wall, Laolongtou, Hushan/Bakjak and the Goguryeo Question

The “Long Wall” – the world’s most famous, most myth-engendering bulwark

China’s most distinctive and enduring icon is the Great Wall of China, it is of course also sui generis as the world’s Great Wall. The Wall, Chángchéng 長城 – or as sometimes described Wan-li Ch’ang-ch’eng 萬里長城 (10,000-mile Long Wall), is incontrovertibly one of the wonders of both the ancient and modern worlds. Starting in the west in Gansu Province at Jiayuguan Pass, the wall(s) meander east over mountains and through passes to they reach the sea in the country’s east (a journey of over 21 thousand km). The oldest sections of the Wall date from the Warring States era (circa 214 BCE).

Laolongtou

Shanhaiguan and ‘Old Dragon’s Head’
If we follow the extravagating course of the wall east from the Badaling section (near Beijing) for about 300 kilometres, we’ll come to Shanhaiguan (literally “mountain – sea – pass”) in Liaoning Province, one of the Great Wall’s major passes (acclaimed as “the first pass under Heaven”). This section continues to Laolongtou (‘Old Dragon’s Head‘), where the wall enters the sea (Gulf of Bohai) and spectacularly and abruptly terminates! The wall at Shanhaiguan and Laolongtou snaking as it does between mountains on one side and water on the other, has been strategically important to the Chinese Empire eastern defences since the 1600s.

Hushan Great Wall

The setting that greets visitors to Laolongtou Wall end-point (Estuary Stone) looks like a most appropriate setting for the eastern terminus of the Great Wall. The reality is however that the Great Wall/s are not a continuous linear structure, they are actually characterised by numerous gaps in the sections…and where the ‘Old Dragon’s Head’ ceases at the sea is one more break in the line, albeit a dramatically evocative one! Before 1989 the conventional wisdom was that Laolongtou was the most easterly point in the Walls, but in that year Chinese archaeologists excavated 600m of a hitherto undiscovered section of the Great Wall 540km east of Laolongtou. The Hushan Wall (extending over a mountain, Hushan or Tiger Mountain) lies just north of China’s eastern border city, Dandong (which eyeballs North Korea just across the Yalu River). In 2009 the Chinese government, based on Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) research, recognised the wall as the most eastern point of the Great Wall (and ie, the end-point). Beijing’s classifying of the wall (so close to the Korean border) as Chinese contradicted the North Korean view that the wall was originally Korean (the Bakjak Fortress) and provoked a hostile North Korean reaction. [‘Hushan Great Wall’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]

PostScript: Dandong discovery reignites the Goguryeo controversy
The Dandong wall conflict reignited the controversy over the Goguryeo Kingdom that previously had inflamed tensions between the two countries. Background: the historic Goguryeo Kingdom (1st century BC to 7th century AD) encompassed an area comprising all but the tip of the Korean peninsula and a portion of both Russian and Chinese Manchuria. Both Koreas view the historic Goguryeo Kingdom as having been the ‘proto-Korea’ state. The Chinese perspective (which the Koreas label as revisionism) is that Goguryeo was only ever a vassal state of the ‘Middle Kingdom’, moreover one occupied largely by Tungusic people, an ethnic minority of China. The wall kerfuffle fed into this controversy, stirring up feelings of nationalism on both sides, the fallout being that Sino-Korean relations took a nosedive. Mutual distrust lingers over the matter…fears of irredentist claims on each other’s territory, and for PRC the perennial bogeyman of the spectre of Korean reunification. [‘Goguryeo controversies’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]

 

(Source: Man, ‘The Great Wall)

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chéng in Chinese can also mean city or city wall…or more aptly to describe China’s wonder building – walls in the plural, John Man, The Great Wall (2009)

so-called because the structure’s end part (above the sea) is thought to resemble a dragon (long) resting its head (tou) on the ground

the Chinese media going so far as to tag the kingdom as ‘China’s Goguryeo’ (Zhongguo Gaogouli) [Korea and China’s Clashing Histories’, (Yong Kwon), The Diplomat, 11-Jul-2014, www.thediplomat.com]

Queen Hatshepsut’s Wondrous Showcase Valley Temple stained by Tragedy

Our visit to the Mortuary Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, AKA the Deir el-Bahri (“Northern Monastery”) was the highlight of the visit to Luxor, a happy wrap to a long day mostly spent peering into a raft of dark, underground Egyptian burial tombs in the nearby Valley of the Kings. From the Queen’s monastery entrance gate near the West Bank of the Nile we were ferried out to the site in “people-movers”, open transit E-vehicles. This sublime gem of a temple stands out from the others for several reasons! First of all – the fun-sounding name, we were informed by Bakr that it is correctly pronounced “Hat-cheap-suit” which is a pretty good memory device to resort to, but the quipsters in our tour party were quick to translate it into “Hot n’chicken-soup” or even more absurdly “Hot-chip’n’soup”! (in the dusty air and baking heat of the Valley, lunch was never far from our minds!). It was special too because remarkably Queen Hatshepsut was only one of two female pharaohs in Ancient Egyptian history (d.1458 BCE, 18th Dynasty). The first, Sobekneferu (d.1802 BCE, 12th Dynasty) was a more shadowy figure and a much less substantive ruler. Hatshepsut first ascended the imperial throne as co-regent with her half-brother but assumed full pharaonic powers after his death. Her reign was notable for its building projects, especially around Thebes (her crowning glory this memorial temple, Deir el-Bahri, built in Western Thebes) and for extending the kingdom’s trading links possibly as far as Punt (Eritrea) in the Horn of Africa. In the contemporary images, statues and sculptures of Hatshepsut, she is depicted (on her own orders) as a man, eg, the free-standing colonnade sculptures of the Queen in her showcase Thebes temple show her with a manly build and a characteristic pharaoh’s beard and attire. Lastly there is its peerless aesthetic appeal. Most of the other mortuary houses in Luxor’s valley look drab and unprepossessing by comparison. The temple is magnificently set in a natural valley against a towering backdrop of massive craggy mountains. Though upward of 3,500 years old in some ways it looks strangely modern with its ramps, two-tired terraces and the simplicity of clean, white, sharp lines of the colonnades and facade…the simplicity of the building and the way it blends into the landscape reminds me a bit of the architecture of Chicago’s Prairie School. Hatshepsut’s pet name for the temple was Djeser Djeseru (“splendour of Splendours”), in the ancient era the elegant simplicity of Deir el-Bahri was enhanced by a number of aesthetic features and elements that haven’t survived to the present day (eg, an avenue of sphinxes, fountains, lines of myrrh trees from the land of Punt) [The Rough Guide to Egypt (2007 Ed.)]. The distressing, tragic contemporary association with this sublimely beautiful monument is that it was here that 58 international tourists as well as four Egyptians were massacred by terrorists in 1997, a further 26 visitors or more were injured in the onslaught (the worst-ever terrorist atrocity involving tourists in Egypt). The terrorist group, suspected to be a splinter arm of al-Jama’a al-Islamiyya (Egyptian Sunni Islamist organisation) entered the complex in the guise of security guards, trapping the victims inside the temple and setting on them with knives and guns. The murderers later fled and committed suicide in the surrounding hills. The largest proportion (>60%) of the murdered tourists came from Switzerland (later on Swiss intelligence ‘determined’ that Osama Bin Laden had bankrolled the operation). A direct consequent of the Luxor massacre was both a beefing up of tourist security and a drop in Egypt’s tourist numbers. Subsequent terrorist attacks elsewhere within the country has ensured the maintenance of high levels of security by the Egyptian authorities to this day.

🔼 Pharaoh and Queen, Hatshepsut

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the statues of Hatshepsut that survive that is, many at the temple were predictably decimated by later male pharaohs in a chauvinist attempt to erase her from the annals of Egypt’s pharaonic ‘pantheon’
although this charge has continued to be denied by al-Jama’a al-Islamiyya itself

By Boat to Philae, Visiting an Ancient Egyptian ‘Treasure Island’

The island containing the Temple of Philae and other significant, associated monuments from antiquity is a definite starter on the list of essential things to see when in the Nubian region of Egypt. So, after the tour guide had taken us to the Aswan High Dam to get a sighter from the bridge of the vast reservoirs of water, we made for the island. The temple and other monuments we were going to see were originally on Philae island, but by the 1960s the Egyptian government, concerned at the harmful effect the periodical flooding of the island was having on the monuments and its archaeological relics (a by-product of the Aswan Low Dam), decided to relocate them to a more optimal place – mirroring the story with the Abu Simbel Tow Temples and the Aswan High Dam. The nearby island of Aglika was chosen as the new site and in a logistics exercise that consumed virtually all the seventies, Philae’s temples and monuments “island-hopped” to Aglika. There was some inexplicable delay (becoming quite the norm) when we got to the wharf in getting a boat to ferry us to the new island. One of the random fellow passengers on the boat ride was perhaps the most exotic ‘apparition’ we had encountered in all our time in Egypt. I say ‘apparition’ because although she was real, so oddly and eccentrically was she decked out in extravagant garb and paraphernalia, she was totally out-of-place with everyone else in the sweltering heat of the day. The image that occurred to me when I saw her was of a kind of Egyptian “Mary Poppins”. She was covered from head to foot in multi-layers of gaily coloured clothing, fancy “Sunday-best” gloves, etc, the whole kit! Yes and of course the obligatory umbrella as well! She also looked like she could seamlessly slot into the cast of Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile, no problems. We were all melting in the oppressive tropical heat in our thin cotton T-shirts, shorts and sandals, so I can’t imagine how she was feeling it. As it transpired, ‘Maryam’ Poppins had an eccentric personality to match her flamboyant attire. She tried to blame us for the boat’s delay and then wanted to use us as money-changers. I couldn’t quite fathom what exactly the proverbial bee in her over-veiled bonnet was! As the boat neared the island the vision was an enchanting one, the central complex of buildings seemed to be growing out of the lush green band of trees and bushes which surround it! It was easy to spot the distinctive twin pylons of the Temple of Isis. Philae was one of the strongholds for the cult of worshipping the all-empowering Egyptian goddess. Once you set foot on the island you find its full of fascinating monuments and artefacts which reveal a rich and varied history and an assortment of diverse cultural influences. The earliest religious structures reach back to the 4th century BCE and the Pharaonic era. Others date to the Ptolemaic Kingdom (Alexander the Great’s Graeco-Egyptian successors from Ptolemy I up to Cleopatra). A number of the buildings still extant were erected under the aegis and command of Roman emperors, eg, the Kiosk of Trajan (above). Even the early century Byzantine rulers have left an imprint on Philae as did the Coptic Christians. Most impressive of all perhaps is the forecourt of the main temple with its splendid colonnaded, the courtyard is an irenic atmosphere-evoking space. Also calming and softening the setting was the afternoon sunlight filtering in between the temple’s columns and reflecting on the still waters of the river in the background. The temple’s stand-out for me remains the striking reliefs of Egyptian deities (especially) on the Second Pylon (above), sharply defined sculptures which have been exceptionally well-preserved (or restored) bearing in mind that the temple walls had been half-submerged for considerable periods when it was still located on the vulnerable Philae island. In addition to the Temple of Isis and the Kiosk of Trajan, the island contains five lesser temples, two Roman gates, the Portico of (Emperor) Augustus and the Pavilion or Vestibule of (Pharaoh) Nactanebo I. The site’s various buildings are rich in the representation of pictographic narratives…the trained eye of Egyptologist Biko drew our attention to other, unauthorised markings on the monuments – various graffiti inscriptions is left by past visitors from the Roman epoch through to the Napoleonic period…which is visual confirmation – if we needed it – that graffiti has been around for just about forever (‘How Old is Graffiti?‘, www.wonderopolis.org).

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8.8km south of Aswan as the Nubian Corvus flies!

Monumental Abu Simbel: A Desert Gem on the Tropic of Cancer

The stock standard, organised tour of Egypt offered by x-plus one number of tour operators and agents typically has an itinerary which comprises Cairo, Gaza Pyramids, Saqqara, a Nile cruise, Luxor and the Valley of the Kings (and maybe Queens), and Karnak, maybe Aswan if you’re lucky and Alexandria, less likely to be included. Sinai doesn’t score a guernsey and the Temples of Abu Simbel, way down in the Nubian south close to the border with Sudan, is often only available as a cost add-on option. But worth it…if you were permitted to visit just one archaeological site in Egypt, Abu Simbel should be the one!

The trip south to Upper Nile
We left bustling, teeming Cairo and journeyed to the Giza Railway Station preceded by a short stop at the Canadian Youth Hostel for a refresher/change of clothes. There was no rush as it turned out, we twiddled our thumbs while the overnight train to Aswan waited dormant on the platform for two hours before it departed. Egyptian Railways’ so-called Abela “Sleeping Train” was on the whole relatively comfortable, but it took a torturous 13½ hours to get to Aswan, and although we had our own separate (small) compartments I got very little sleep in the night in the noisy, overcrowded carriage with the jerky motion of the train. The on-board toilets were a bit dire and the railway staff gave us something cold and rubbery to eat…though they were very polite about it. As least we fared better than the other half of our tour group, their (following) ER train broke down on route in the heat for five hours, standing still, no air con!

Tourist stalls outside entrance to Abu Simbel site

The four Ramses II statues

The next morning we had to rise and leave our Aswan hotel just after 3am to drive to Abu Simbel. It was a four-hour drive to the site and we needed to get there early enough to be in and out before the severe heat of the day hit. Our bus together with several other tour buses travelled through the desert in a convoy escorted by armed soldiers in the front and rear vehicles (a corollary of the spike in terrorist attacks on Egyptian tourist sites in recent years). We arrived at the AS monument complex at around 7am.

Leaving the car park and side-stepping through the souvenir wallahs trying to steer us towards their goods stalls, we walked along a curved access road down a slight incline. As we rounded a corner, we get our first sighting of what we had come to see. Superimposed on the cliff face of a mountain were two sets of monumental carved figures, it is an amazing spectacle that greets you, the sheer scale is jaw-dropping, breathtaking…no superlatives you can think of seem adequate at the moment. The first wonder you come to are a set of four colossal (20m high) statues representing Rameses II, the famous pharaoh of the New Kingdom (19th Dynasty), seated on his throne. The four❈ monumental figures are set in rock relief, a niche carved out of the mountain wall. Behind the tetrad of Rameses’ is a temple dedicated to the pharaoh. Further along the mountain is a companion monument to Rameses’ consort, the Temple of Queen Nefertari. One hundred metres to the right of Rameses’ monument, also built on an extended arm of the artificial hill, is the smaller Temple of (the Goddess Hathor and) Queen Nefertari. In front of the temple is a frieze comprising large sculptures of figures (Rameses and Nefertari who unusually was rendered to be of equal height to the pharaoh).

Queen Neferari Monument

Moving the monuments – the engineering marvel of a miracle
Almost as fascinating as the Abu Simbel monuments themselves is the back story of how they were forgotten, lost, re-found and then moved. Engulfed by shifting sands and lost for millennia, the temples were discovered by a Swiss orientalist, Johann-Ludwig Burckhardt, in 1813. And there they sat until the Aswan High Dam project of the 1960s…the rising levels of the Nile and the creation of Lake Nasser meant that the Abu Simbel monuments would be submerged in the river. A UN-funded salvage operation (coordinated by Swedish company Impreglio) used engineers and archaeologists from around the world and Egyptian labour⌀ to rescue the 3,200 year-old-monuments and re-position them slightly further south on higher ground that is back a bit from the rushing waters of the Nile.

How to move enormous solid objects of such colossal weight and density was the challenge facing the team. The ingenious solution was to cut the statues into manageable (up to 20-ton) blocks (some sections so delicate that handsaws had to be used) that could be then transported to the temples’ new home and there carefully reassembled. For this to succeed required absolute mathematical precision, patience and a long time…but it worked and the statues were rejoined remarkably without recourse to glue or any form of adhesive substance [‘1964-1968 Rescuing Rameses II’, Amanda Uren, http://mashable.com]

8C63980A-E80D-4039-A0EA-EEC651D3C2B8Inside the temples
Concrete domes and arched doorways were integrated into the construction of the artificial hills to create the two temples in the new location. Inside are treasury rooms, sculptures and numerous wall and column decorations in honour of Egypt’s most long-lived pharaoh. Photography within the Greater and Lesser Temples is not permitted, but packets of postcards depicting pictures of the interior treasures and of the 1960s relocation project can be purchased at the site.

We spent two hours exploring Abu Simbel but could have stayed longer, Biko however was quick to hurry us back to our mini-bus with his now familiar cry of yalla-beena! The temple site was becoming people top-heavy with new tourist buses arriving every hour, we knew that we needed to make tracks in the desert – especially if we were to avoid, as much as we could, having to travel in full tropical sun. We left happy and content that we had witnessed one of the best ancient complexes we would see. So many of Egypt’s archaeological monuments are magnificent, but very few of them can be said to match the rarefied atmosphere of Abu Simbel Tow Temples.

A note on nomenclature: The traditional speculation is that the name Abu Simbel derives from the name of the Nubian boy who guided Burckhardt (and later Italian explorer Giovanni Belzoni) to the location of the lost treasure temples…regardless of this claims’ merits it should be noted that Abu Simbel literally means “Father (Abu) of the Ear of Corn”.

Footnote: Remoteness of Abu Simbel – deep in the Nubian South, around 35–50km from the Sudanese border, Abu Simbel is literally in the middle of nowhere…the location of this monumental, eponymous structure was intended as the marker signifying the southern border of Rameses II’s empire

Night viewings of the spotlighted Rameses II monument are spectacular and popular

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❈ the head and torso of one of the four Rameses lies at the feet of the statue – this was how Burckhardt found it in 1813, the fissure is thought to have been caused by an earthquake. Another point of difference within the foursome is that Rameses #4 (counting from left to right) is missing the pharaoh’s trademark shaving brush beard

⌀ the project used around 3,000 workers, cost $US42M in 1960s money and nearly five years to complete

⊡ during the project a perhaps surprising decision was made to not replace the detached head and torso of Rameses #2 in its original position, rather it was placed on the ground at the statue’s feet exactly as it was found when re-discovered in 1813

Mesoamerican Hardball: The Great Ball Court at Chichén-Itzá and the Ancient Game

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Ball court at Chichén-Itzá (southern end-zone & temple)

Our group tour of Yucatán’s archaeological Maravilla, Chichén-Itzá, ended with an informative stroll through the long-abandoned ball court. As we slowly walked from one end of the former playing field to the other, we got a feel for the atmosphere of the place as our guide Henrique told us about the religious symbolism and the savage practices associated with the court. Chichén-Itzá’s Gran cancha de pelotá (the Great Ball Court), the venue in pre-modern times for Mesoamerica’s Jugeo de Pelotá (literally: “Game of ball”), is the best surviving example of the court used by the Maya and other indigenous Mesoamerican peoples for their ancient versions of the ball game✱.

href=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/image-20.jpg”> Olmec heartland – arcing from San Lorenzo to the Gulf[/
Roots of competitive sport?
Much about the game, thought to be the world’s first organised team sport, is uncertain. The Mesoamerican ball game (MBG) seems to have had its origins with the Olmecs, the earliest known major civilisation in Mexíco, around 1,600 BCE✺. The Olmecs, whose empire centred around the Gulf of Mexíco’s southern coast area, were renowned producers of rubber (the raw material that the latex balls used in the game were made of). Most of the evidence for what the sport was about, comes from the discovery of items such as the bog-preserved balls themselves, and from ceramic pieces interred in tombs – figurines portraying ball players, sculpted miniatures of the game and its paraphernalia, or from architectural decorations, carvings and the like on the ball court walls (around 1,300 erstwhile ball courts have been discovered in or around Central America – the northernmost in the US state of Arizona).

ef=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/image-22.jpg”> The basic ‘⌶’ shape of the Ancient Mexícan ball court[/cap
The non-standardised Mesoamerican ball court
The dimensions of the ball court at Chichén-Itzá are quite large, at least 545’L x 225’W, a long, roughly rectangular space with an ⌶-shaped playing surface…whilst this ⌶-shape is the norm for Mesoamerican ball courts, other ball courts discovered elsewhere in the region show that there was no standardised size for courts, some are tiny by comparison to Chichén-Itzá, effectively alleys rather than fields. Tikal’s ball court (in present-day Guatemala) for instance is only ⅙th the size of the Chichén-Itzá field [‘Mesoamerican ballcourt’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]. The courts themselves were masonry structures, composed of stone, rubble, abode, etc materials.

“http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/image-23.jpg”> The court with the Bearded Man Temple (L) & the Jaguar Temple (R)[/captio
The C-I court’s side walls
The side walls at Chichén-Itzá are high (a full 8m) and completely perpendicular except for a small sloping bench which extends a metre-and-a-half up from the ground. The walls are decorated with bas-relief carvings which mirror Mayan society. Many other court walls elsewhere in Meso-America are considerably lower and some have angled walls which are much more acutely diagonal, sloping sharply inward. Forming part of one of the side walls at Chichén-Itzá is a famous, two-tiered temple, Templo del jaguar (Temple of the Jaguar). At both ends of the field there are small temples, the best known being the Templo de hombre barbado (Temple of the Bearded Man).

Clay model of ball court from Nayarit: more spectators than players! [LA County Museum of Art]

Rules of the game?
No lists of codified rules for the sport have survived…leaving the notion of how games were conducted open to speculation. Many theories abound…the most common view is that the players used their right hip to strike the ball…the traditional game of ulama still played in Central America today with the hip is believed to have descended from the archaic indigenous game. Other views postulate that players could use their chests, shoulders, elbows, knees and forearms to propel the ball, or a hand-stone called a manopla or even some kind of racket or (hockey-like) stick. Possibly all of these are correct…the rudimentary ball game seems to have had differences from region to region, and between the different civilisations. An echo of this can be seen in the varying names used for the sport – pok-ta-pok and pitz, Pelotá Maya and ōllamaliztli (the Aztec ball game). Each team had a capitan (team captain) but again there is variance as to how many players constituted a team, some sources say between two to four athletes, although others say six or seven✥. Players (and officials) often donned flamboyant, feathered head-dresses for the games [‘Mesoamerican ball game’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].

Feathered serpent stone ring

Scoring and winning?
On the high walls at the Chichén-Itzá court, seven metres up, are stone-rings which the Maya introduced to the ball court. Because they resemble hoops, many observers have speculated that these rings decorated by intertwining feathered serpents are goals. While they may well be, it is problematic as to how significant the circular goals may have been in the context of a match…players at Chichén-Itzá, unable to use their hands and feet, would need a Herculean effort to propel a heavy ball through the relatively small hoops seven metres high, it would be extremely difficult to manoeuvre the (basketball-sized) ball through the hole!✾ The more likely avenue of scoring was to propel the ball over a centre line into your opponents’ territory, if it bounced more than twice before they played it or if they failed to return it to your side, you were awarded points. Victory therefore, unless a player was lucky enough to land a ringer, tended to be determined by the number of points each side scored [‘The Ball Game of Mesoamerica’ (Mark Cartwright), 16-Sept-2013, Ancient History Encyclopedia, www.ancient.eu (‘Pre-Hispanic City of Teothihuacan (UNESCO/NHK) video)].

Another version of how MBG was played, favoured by the Maya warriors, involved putting the ball in motion by using only the right hip, right knee and right elbow and players were penalised for letting the ball hit the ground…sometimes this involved bouncing it off the side wall, and eventually getting it through the stone ring to win the contest. Surviving artwork from different Mesoamerican communities suggest that hip-players also exclusively used the right hip [‘Mayan ball game’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org].

MesoAmer ballplayer (with ball approx the size of a 10-pin bowling ball) [Source: MMA]

MBG equipment:
The way ball-players dressed to take part in games was a product of the ball used in Meso-America – balls were made of solid rubber and weighed up to nine pounds (about four kilos). Some were as large as a basketball, others more the size of a softball. Propelled through the air at a good rate of knots the heavy orb could inflict a lot of harm on the human body, so from (an attempt at) self-preservation, players wore protective gear…including a sort of yoke or a loincloth reinforced with leather (occasionally they also wore a sort of girdle); sometimes helmuts; gloves and guards on their arms, legs and torsos⌖. Even so, serious injuries from the hurtling ball were known to be common, even on occasions death resulted.

MBG, real life and death ball games
George Orwell said that football was “war by other means” – a description that might be as apt for MBG as it is for modern football. Ball games for indigenous Mesoamericans served several purposes. The Maya used ball games as a proxy for war, to settle territorial disputes, and to foretell the future. Games were appended to religious ceremonies involving human sacrifice…some but not all culminated in the ritualistic execution of the captain or players on the losing side. Our guide at Chichén-Itzá pointed out the ball court’s carved stone friezes which depicted the winners making human sacrifices by decapitating the losing captain…conveyed both graphically and imaginatively with spurts of blood from the victim’s severed head turning into wriggling serpents! MBG had many martial associations, warriors took part in the games, war captives were forced to play in rigged games which inevitably resulted in their being sacrificed to the gods [‘The Bloody and Brutal History of the Mesoamerican Ball Game, Where Sometimes Loss was Death’ (Monica Petrus), Atlasobscura, 09-Jan-2014, www.altasobscura.com].

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PostScript: An inclusive, multi-purpose sport – religious, political, conflict resolution, cathartic, social, astronomical
The games could be social and recreational⊟ (allowing women and children to play) but normally they were formal and ceremonial events. The Maya elite for example would use them to act out their creation myths, MBG featured in their sacred legends – such as the Hunahpu Hero Twins Myth in which twin boys get lured into Xibalba (the Maya underworld) while playing the game… within the framework of the Maya religious beliefs, ball courts like at Chichén-Itzá were thought to provide (symbolically at least) a portal into the Underworld. MBG was tied into cosmological events, the orbits of the sun and the moon, and games were performed with symbolic resonance, as allegorical battles between “good and evil” [‘The Maya Ball Game’, History on the Net, www.historyontheney.com]


Ball court at Xochicalco (Morelos, Mex.): note the vast difference to Gran cancha de pelotá…Xochicalco is on an infinitely smaller scale, characterised by low, staggered side walls comprising earth mounds

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✱ one of the panels on the side wall depicts the leader of one team with the decapitated head of his opposing captain

✺ the earliest unearthed ball court ruins is at Paso de la Amada in the Soconusco region of Chiapas (circa 1,400 BCE)

✥ seven – the Maya lucky number. More plausibly there may have been six-a-side plus a referee

✾ although pictorial evidence indicates that the stone rings in the Aztec ball game were at ground level and much more accessible

⌖ a player’s equipment could weight up to 20lbs

⊟ gambling on the outcome of games was prevalent

A Visit to Yucatán’s Pre-Columbian Showpiece: Chichén-Itzá

Onsite site map

An exploration of the archaeological sites of Mexíco’s Yucatán Peninsula cannot be said to be complete unless it includes a trip to Chichén-Itzá (see footnote for etymology) – essential even for those with only the barest of interest in the archaeological significance embodied in its stepped pyramids and celestial-viewing platforms…according to UNESCO Chichén-Itzá represents “one of the most important examples of (the blend of) Mayan-Toltec civilizations”. An outcome of the Toltec invasion of Yucatán (and of Chichén-Itzá) in the late 10th century is that visitors to the ruins of the city can see in the city’s ancient structures a fusion of icons and styles from the two Pre-Hispanic cultures✱.

Zona arqueología

In relation to Mérida (where we were based), Chichén-Itzá is in San Felipe Nuevo, a drive of 115km along Highway 180. Predictably for somewhere lionised as a “modern wonder of the world”, the place was brimming with tourists when we arrived. Our guide for the day, Enrique, took us through the complex’s turnstiles and we made our way from the entrance through a phalanx of clamouring vendors hawking their memorabilia merchandise. After an obligatory baños stop, we headed for the large temple in the centre of the site, the Temple of Kukulcán. “El Castillo” as it is known, is 25 metres high and decorated with carvings of plumed serpents and Toltec warriors. The pyramid was roped off to prevent visitors climbing it (the consequence of a female tourist falling to her death from it in 2006).

The Kuk

The chirping bird phenomenon
Whilst we were taking in the ambience of the eleven hundred-year-old El Castillo temple, guides leading other groups of tourists would demonstrate the acoustics of the pyramid by standing at the base of the stairway and clapping their hands loudly (we were already familiar with this stage show, having first seen the clapping trick performed at Teotihuacán on the outskirts of Mexico City). It seemed a bit gimmicky to me but some pyramid researchers and acoustical engineers apparently believe that the echo effect that this generates from the ancient structure replicates the chirping noise made by the sacred Quetzal bird (the kuk), native to Central America [‘Was Maya Pyramid Designed to Chirp Like a Bird?’ (Bijal P Trivedi)
National Geographic Today, 6-Dec-2002, https://news.nationalgeographic.com/]

Templo de Kukulcán

Measuring the scientific achievements of the Maya
Chirping Quetzals aside, the Temple of Kukulcán at the height of the Mayan empire power was salient to how Mayans lived their everyday lives and planned their future endeavours. The 365◘ step pyramid demonstrates how important astronomy was to the Maya and how remarkably accurately they were able to measure mathematically (eg, the 365-day Maya calendar devised centuries before the West!). The alignment of structures like El Castillo affirms the advanced understanding the Maya had of astronomical phenomena such as solstices and equinoxes.

El Caracol

Observing the clear blue sky
Walking around the ruins we discovered from our guide that the Maya put to use different buildings to make serious astronomical observations (without the aid of telescopes) of the sky above…the Plataforma de Venus (near the Temple of Kukulcán) is a platform used by the Maya elite to track the transit of Venus. The planet Venus was important to the Maya both theologically, as a deity (god of war), and practically, to use its movements to decide when to make raids and engage in battles with enemies. On the southern axis of the city is the Observatory or El Caracol (“the snail”), a small building with a circular viewing tower in a crumbling condition, also integral to studying planetary movements [‘ChichenItzaRuins’, www.chichenitzaruins.org].

Spot the iguana!

We spent a very liberal and leisurely amount of time wandering around the various excavated remnants of the site…off to the sides were several smaller and apparently less important temples and a couple of cénotes (unlike the others in the Peninsula we swam in, these were sans hoods, fully exposed). In another minor temple (in a poor state of repair) we were able to observe that some of the native non-human locals had made a home in the crumbling stone structure, in this case a well-camouflaged iguana (above)!

La Iglesia

An elaborate multi-layered “jigsaw puzzle” in Chichén Viejó
Of those we saw, I found La Iglesia (The Church) the most interesting building, architecturally and visually. One of the oldest buildings at Chichén-Itzá (and it looks it!), the building is oddly asymmetrical with an elaborately decorative upper part sitting incongruously atop an untidy foundation “made up of hundreds of smaller stones fit(ted) together like a huge jigsaw puzzle” [Chris Reeves, ‘La Iglesia’, American Egypt (All about Chichen Itzá and Mexico’s Mayan Yucatan), www.americanegypt.com ]. The upper section is dazzlingly and elaborately decorated with bas-relief carvings comprising a composite pattern of animal symbols – armadillos, crabs, snails, tortoises (representing the four bacabs who in Maya mythology are thought to hold up the sky). The other dominant sculptural feature of La Iglesia’s facade are masks of the Rain God Chac [‘Chichén Itzá – The Church’, Mexíco Archeology, www.mexicoarcheology.com].

The Great ball court
The final highlight of the ancient city that we got to see on our visit to Chichén-Itzá was the Great (or Grand) Ball Court. The Gran cancha de pelotá, one of thirteen ball courts unearthed at Chichén-Itzá, is the best preserved and most impressive of all such ancient sports stadia in Mexíco. It is known that, from as early as 1,400 BCE, Mesoamericans played a game involving the propulsion of a rubber ball which may have incorporated features of or partly resembled football and/or handball. I will talk about what the Chichén-Itzá ball court reveals about this indigenous Mexícan game and its significance to native Pre-Columbian society in a follow-up blog.

Footnote: Nomenclature
“Chichen Itza”, a Maya word, means “at the mouth of the well of the Itza.” The Itzá were a dominant ethnic-lineage group in Yucatán’s northern peninsula. The word ‘well’ probably refers to the nearby cénote sagrado – the sacred limestone sinkhole around which the Maya city was constructed.

Chichén-Itzá vendors hard at it! Sombreros for a hot day.

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✱ Yucatán’s “most important archaeological vestige”, ‘Pre-Hispanic City of Chichen-Itza’, www.whc.unesco.org

◘ one for each day of the calendar year

Palenque 2: A Temple City Overgrown by La Jungla

Palenque Parque Nacional

The highlight of a visit to Palanque is a 15 minute trip out-of-town to the nearby Mayan ruins (Palenque National Park) which dates back to AD 600 or thereabouts. Our minibus unloaded us just past a sign saying: Carreteria a Palenque – Zona Archaeológica. This UNESCO heritage site is what put tiny Palenque on the international tourism map! We met our local guide for the day at the National Park’s entry turnstiles, stacks of people were already visiting the site when we got there around half-nine in the morning (Lonely Planet’s ‘Guessimation’ of over 1,000 visitors to the park on an average day seemed feasible).

The site map

The Palenque archeological site comprises an indeterminate number of temples within what was in its day a large Maya city with a plain on one side, a dense jungle on the other and the Rio Usumacinta running right through the middle of it. Before we hit the temple trail, Rafa our guide, who clearly knew his Mayan archaeology and antiquity, gave us a quick overview of the city using a cloth map affixed to a tent wall for illustration. Apparently Palenque’s original name was Lakamha (Meaning “Big Water”) – don’t think I quite got the significance of this name(?) unless it was a reference to the river which, not particularly noticeable today, may have been more significant in the time of the Maya. Like Teotihuacan on the outskirts of Mexico City, another indigenous civilisation occupied the site, predating the Mayans by maybe the best part of a millennium.

Temple bas-relief
Temple reliefs

Once we started exploring the site Rafa explained that most of what survived of the pyramids, what we could see still, was the work of the 8th century Maya king, K’inich Janaab Pakal, AKA Pakal the Great. Pakal’s long reign oversaw a major building program for the city. Probably the pick of the temples we saw was the one known as the Temple of the Inscriptions…the intact panels of the structure, which Rafa explained the significance of to us, contained important Maya pictorial inscriptions – these are a kind of ideogram, a single picture which equates with a word or an idea or a number. These symbols (adopted from the Olmec people by the Maya) put together formed a text. On the temples some of these glyphs (hieroglyphic characters painted on the walls) survive, although the Spanish Catholics destroyed a lot of them! The unique Mayan numbering system is also in evidence❈.

Temple of the Crosses

We did the obligatory adrenalin-driven thing that tourists do: sprinted up the steps of the nearest pyramid. Once at the top, nothing much to see, we proceeded more cautiously and slowly back down the narrow and slightly crumbling steps (themselves a mosaic of unevenly cut stone squares). It wasn’t permitted however to climb up the Temple of Inscriptions) opposite which some 80 feet above the ground held Pakal’s mausoleum. Rafa showed us some of the practical functions of the temples, for example the plumbing, as well as explaining the religious ones. Palenque is not as high and imposing as Teotihuacan’s “Sun and Moon” pyramids, but loses nothing in the decorative stakes. This is especially evident in the four edifices enclosing the rectangular square of the smaller Temples of the Crosses which boast elaborate, bas-relief carvings and sinewy interior chambers. At certain points Mayan relics lay around the grounds☀.

A city of temples under cover of jungle
We had some free time to spend scaling one or two of the less formidable pyramids before tiring of this novelty. As we followed Rafa back to the entrance, we swiftly and adroitly swerved past lines of souvenir vendors loudly hawking their wares on the pathway. Outside, the group regathered and were shepherded by Rafa towards a nearby trail heading into a denser part of the jungle. I mentioned above that the temples of Palenque were of indeterminate number. The reason for this is that virtually the entire ancient city of Palenque was swallowed up by the jungle some time after the Mayan inhabitants left the area (circa AD 800). What what we could see and explore was the small portion that had been discovered and unearthed to this point!

Rafa blending in to nature – at one with cedars & sapodilla

An ecosystem of diverse biodiversity
Rafa took us deep into a high evergreen forest along a path called Sendero Moiépa, pointing out different aspects of the biodiversity bank. The Palenque National Park was made up of 996 tropical species of flora and fauna…around us were millennium-old trees, red cedar, mahogany, kapok and sapodilla, as well as camedor palms including the threatened fishtail palm xate.

As we trekked along the muddy, sloping trail through ancient streams with fossilised shells, passing vines and unfamiliar plants, Rafa educated us as to the kinds of fauna that the jungle was home to…in all there were 353 species of birds – we caught glimpses of only the relatively easy-to-spot red-crowned parrots, unfortunately the very hard-to-spot toucans with their facility for changing the colour of their beaks to regulate heat were keeping their distance as usual. Another group of residents – the howler monkeys – were audible in full voice though not visible to us (presumably they were dangling high up in the canopy at safe distance but aware of the strange human visitors on the ground). Also not seen were the even more elusive ocelots, nor did we manage to see any of the 71 species of reptiles and amphibians including the very venomous pit viper, the Bothrops asper, which happily in this instance was giving us a welcome wide birth!

The temple, liberated from La Jungla!

After about 30 minutes of hiking we reached our main objective, a peak on top of which the skeletal ruins of a Maya temple was peering out of the jungle. This until recently hidden temple was discovered by local archaeologists. Rafa explained that tests had indicated there were undoubtedly many more temples buried under the jungle still to be unearthed.

Before heading back out of the Palenque jungle, Rafa invited us to explore an underground entrance point largely concealed by a rock ledge. Most of us took the challenge to climb down into the hole which led into a short, very tight and damp tunnel which came out at a shallow stream of water. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to be looking for in the tunnel, a rare, fossilised Palaeolithic Age Mexican marsupial perhaps…it was too dark to see much of anything in the tunnel in any case!

Human “pack mules” doing the hard yakka…”Aspro, anyone?”

≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖≖
❈ Mayan maths were extremely accurate in calculating the calendar year at 365.2425 days, anticipating the much later European estimate of 365.2522
☀ when the archaeologists dug up Palenque they discovered small objects called censers lying round the Temples of the Crosses in particular. These are mainly brazing bowls made of ceramic used for making Mayan offerings to the gods

Palenque 1: Ambling about Town, Down Merle Green and Beyond

Big Maya

Towards dusk we reached the township of Palenque, our next stay-over on our journey to the easternmost tip of Mexico. The first thing we noticed in the area known as La Cañada was this giant native figure propped up against a tourism building (Carretera Catazaja Tramo Central Tuxtla). The massive sculpture took on a slightly menacing appearance to me, like someone you’d expect to find engaging in bloodthirsty, ritualistic Mayan human sacrifices.

H. Xibalba
Hotel decoration

Arriving at our lodgings (Hotel Xibalba) we found ourselves assigned to a separate section 100 metres down the road from the main reception area. The architecture of our dwelling was unusual, almost avant-garde, it certainly caught the eye…a small, sandy-coloured, two-level building with an A-frame shape, a design replicated in the shape of the large, outward-facing windows which gave the structure a very airy feel. The doors to each of the sixteen rooms conformed to this sloping pyramid pattern. The grounds surrounding the entrance to the sleeping quarters were tastefully decorated with authentic looking native sculptural pieces. The accommodation annex looked like it was a recent addition to Hotel Xibalba.

That night we acted on Hector’s dinner recommendation, leaving the Xibalba we ambled up Calle Merle Greene❉, past several cantinas and restaurants with picturesque displays of pot-planted flowers under their awnings. Around the bend we came to La Hector’s dining choice for the night. We partook of a nice seafood meal with a bit more medicinal Mexican cerveza thrown in. At the end of the dinner while things were winding up, the guy who ran the restaurant, a German expat, came over and engaged us in some small talk…he was quite a garrulous character, speaking in fluent English, he seemed very comfortable and relaxed, and exuded an almost a weary air of familiarity about all things Palenque (I surmised that he had been domiciled in Mexico for quite some time). After leaving the restaurant Eric and I slowly inched our way back to the hotel, taking in both the night air of this small town and of course the mandatory ice confectionary at the local “7/11” style store.

The next day my roommate Pétros and I decided to check out the old part of Palenque which wad down the road over a weathered, rusty bridge. This was definitely the poor part of town, as we walked I saw very few international tourists checking out this part of Palenque (too far away from the fancy tourist restaurants perhaps?). The faces we did see in the street were mostly indigenous ones – these are largely Ch’ol people (of Mayan descent)۞.

The shops were uniformly low-brow – no frills discount shops, cheap, grimy eateries and grocery stores. Lonely Planet gives Modern Palenque town very short shrift indeed – “sweaty, humdrum…without much appeal except as a jumping-off point for the ruins” [Mexico: Palenque, www.lonelyplanet.com]. No hyperbole here I’m afraid, compared to the “jawdropping jungle ruins” the town itself has precious little to recommend itself.

Silent Howler

The wilderness of la jungla is palpably close however. On the return walk back to the hotel, crossing the river heavily camouflaged with overgrown vegetation (in reality a barely trickling stream), I half expected to catch, if not a sight, the sound of local howler monkeys emerging from the forest scrounging round for food in the town (it had been reported that deforestation in the area was driving them into the city). Unfortunately none of the Alouatta critters put in an appearance during our walk, couldn’t even hear a murmur of their famous vocalising from far off in the jungle. Nor did we get a glimpse of that other local jungle resident, the jaguar. But the following day we’d be in the Palenque jungle itself, I thought, who knows, maybe we’d be a shot at spotting one of these fabled jaguares – but not too close of course!

Footnote:
Some perhaps less photogenic people are known to have been uncharitably labelled with the disparaging sobriquet of ‘Dishhead’…in La Cañada near the “Big Maya” mega-figure as you head back onto Highway 189, I noticed this modernist style street sculpture in the middle of the roundabout, which (art being open to all manner of individual and idiosyncratic interpretation) I like to call “Head in dish-man”, literally. That’s what it looked like to me anyway!

𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧𖡧

❉ our street, so named for famous American artist and archaeologist, Merle Greene Robertson, who developed a technique of “life-size rubbings” which preserved a visual record of much of the Pre-Columbian Maya art in Palenque and elsewhere in Mesoamerica

۞ I didn’t know this statistically at the time of visiting but Palenque is the poorest city in the state of Chiapas. When I came across this snippet later, it clearly tallied with the empirical evidence of what we had observed –- the shops generally rundown and grimy, some of the local people were a bit on the scruffy side, the ingrained dirt and refuse on the streets

Oaxaca 3: Teotitlán Textile-making’s Canine Sideshow and a Mezcal Happy Hour

One of the trade-offs you face on an overseas tour with budgetary and time constraints conspiring against you, is deciding which optional ‘highlights’ you take up and which you pass on…in an un-ideal world there’s just never enough time to do all of them, as enticingly exotic as they probably all sound! As our Intrepid (‘Basic Explorer’) tour was trying to cover a large chunk of central and southern Mexico within a short time span, just over two weeks tops, we, like all tourists, were constantly making these choices at every new town or region we came to.

In order to see the limestone pools of Hierve El Agua and the Mitlá remnants, we had to forgo a trip to Monte Albán. I didn’t think much of this at the time, but after doing a bit of retrospective research I came to the conclusion that it would have been nice to see this high point of Zapotec civilisation whilst in the general vicinity. Still, “mustn’t grumble” as the English are wont to say, in hindsight looking at the tour as a whole we chalked up plenty of visits to historic stepped pyramid sites to get a real representative insight into this most Mexican phenomena, and of course the downside of journeying off to Monte Albán would have meant missing out on Mexico’s Travertines…it was in the end, to put a philosophical take on it, a case of swings and roundabouts.

Textiles tienda

Returning to Oaxaca late in the day after the long trek on bumpy roads to Mitlá, we had two more stops to make. The first was to a family ‘backyard’ textiles business where we were shown a demonstration of how the Mexican garments, shawls and other colourful items of apparel (all the stuff you see in countless market stalls all over the country) were manufactured. The machinery used in the family business was decidedly not state-of-the-art, rather it looked very Third World tech and, when demonstrated quite tricky to master, requiring a lot of time, patience and persistence. Worth it though if the calibre of the finished products on display in the ‘showroom’ were anything to go by, especially the dazzling, woven wall rugs. The price tags seemed a bit over-the-top explaining why no one in the group, though quick to show interest, were in a rush to buy (thankfully there was no pressure forthcoming from the owner on us to buy💢). I’m sure the serious, potential buyers in the showroom wrote themselves mental notes to do a comparative (and you can bet advantageous) price checks on the wall rugs once they hit the city markets!

Textiles sideshow: Chihuahua a-go-go!
It’d be true to say that I found the textiles plant visit less than captivating…then again, to put it in context, it was more interesting to me than a perfume factory I once visited in Switzerland, but that is saying precious little!). However the visit was saved from descending into a tedious, total time-waste “better spent doing something else” by the antics of the family’s pet dog. I discovered the dog, a characteristically Mexican black-and-white Chihuahua, out the back in the casa’s courtyard. The minuscule, over-excitable canine kept frantically trying to mount the legs of one of the older American ladies in our party. Just as I was about to try to capture its hilarious behaviour on video, the family’s two human ankle-biters (two little <5 year-old girls) turned up and armed with a thin tree branch suddenly starting chasing the harassed Chihuahua from one side of the outdoor courtyard to the other…what with the pursued Chihuahua (or should that be Chi-wow-wah?) hareing around crazily it proved very hard indeed to catch it on the video…all that could be made out on the film was a small, black flash with a very low centre of gravity streaking around the courtyard like an Exocet missile! Riotously funny though!

The agave piña – a long, long road to fruition
With the approach of nightfall looming we turned off the Oaxaca highway into a mezcal distillery in the town of San Jerónimo Tlacochahuaya¤. To state what will soon become bleedingly obvious this proved to be the most popular stop of the day! The distillery was set up for tastings just like a regional winery. Before we got to sample the eagerly anticipated local drink though, the distillery honcho walked us through the manufacturing process which is a very, very protracted and complicated one…first the root, the piña, is extracted from the agave after the plant had been grown for about eight years! We were shown a big, eight foot deep earth pit where in the next stage of the process the workers bake the piñas under smoking logs and rocks before removing them to be fermented for a further 5-15 days. After this the fermented by-product gets bunged into a clay brick still to be distilled using heated firewood. When it reaches its purest form (which is called blanco), the aging process in oak then begins…Phew!!! Incredibly time- and labour-intensive process eh?

Start of a satisfying tasting experience

Mainlining on free mezcal
This info on the craft of mezcal-making, interesting as it was, was only a preamble to the day’s main event, the mezcal tasting itself. As we lined the distillery’s bar and listened to the amicable and nuggety bartender-cum-sales guy explain the different types of mezcal whilst cracking jokes, everyone was getting in the mood to taste this most iconic of Mexican drinks. My earlier, tentative tasting of mezcal in Mexico City had left me uncomfortably imagining that this was how drain cleaner might taste. As had happened on that occasion we were again offered salt (or as a substitute paprika powder this time) which you add to a slice of lemon to ameliorate the unpalatable effects of the potent concoction. I managed to down, with a suitably grimaced facial expression, two sizeable snaps-size glasses of the undiluted, bitter-sour drink. This second exposure to this lethal 110-proof beverage clinched it for me – the best way of softening the harsh and abrasive taste of mezcal, I concluded, was not salt and lemon, but rather simply to abstain from drinking it at all!

At this stage I was happy to call it quits on the tastings…that was until our jolly-joker of a host introduced us to something new, a range of Cremea de Maguey (Maguey was the traditional name given by the indigenous population prior to the Spanish invasion to the libation derived from the agave. Agave is still called maguey in some quarters). These mixed drinks were much more to my liking – the hard liquor’s bitter taste, softened and sweetened by the addition of cream flavoured with a host of natural ingredients, transformed it into a drink of “amber nectar”. I tried the avocado, the mango, the lime, the coconut, the pino, various assorted berries, chocolate (but passed on the coffee)…I lost count of how many different, velvety cream mezcals I sampled over the next half-hour, the sum of which of which never succeeded in getting me even close to a state of inebriation◘.

My errant pourer: So many mezcal creams & so little time!

The only concern was the young woman serving my drinks – in her haste to satisfy the frenzied, Bacchanalian demand of so many willing tasters, she kept pouring the portions of maguey way too quickly – with the result that the silky-tasting liquid often as not ended up on my hand and forearm rather than in the intended receptacle! Still, as I hadn’t forked out a single Peco for the innumerable shots of mezcal I had consumed, I could hardly complain, could I?

Observing the other convivial tasters at the bar I realised that I was not “Robinson Crusoe” in my preference for the more palatable mezcal cream mixers. Aside from a hard-core handful (mostly Yanks and Brits) who had clearly already made a happy acquaintance with the classic Mexican beverage and kept plying the pure form of tongue-numbing, straight mezcal down their throats, it was a real winner! Everyone else in the group was sampling every available variant of Cremea de Maguey on the bar at a fast rate of knots!

A short time later the tastings came to an end, prompting some in the group to cough up some hard cash to stock up on the product to ward off any possible effects of an attack of MDS. Very soon we were back on Highway 190 completing the short, 21 kilometre bus journey back to our Oaxaca hotel. With the intoxicating spirit of ‘mezcalmania’ fuelling a sense of collective bon homie, the “happy hour” mood continued on the bus with nonstop banter and badinage being exchanged on the way home.

Fortification for the bus trip back…

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Monte Albán’s great tourist appeal lies in how the local Amerindians turned a 1,500 foot high hill into a series of pyramids, terraces, dams, canals and artificial mounds

💢 so refreshingly at arm’s length to the merciless “take-no-prisoners” approach of rug and carpet salesmen I had previously experienced in Egypt and Turkey
¤ Oaxaca (State) abounds with mezcal producers, it’s the pivotal hub of Mexico’s mezcal industry (although the plant itself is grown in many regions of the country)

its interesting that experts and devotees of mezcal tend to describe the drink in its pure form as having a smoky taste as its most distinctive characteristic…all I can say is to my less sophisticated palate what came through was the ‘burning’ sensation rather than the smoky one!
◘ the cream mezcals tasted a little like Bailey’s Irish Cream but more variable and infinitely nicer!

Mezcal Deprivation Syndrome – quite common in these parts of Mexico they tell me, though fortunately not infectious 😉

Oaxaca 2: Visiting Mexico’s Own Travertines and a Glimpse into Zapotec Art and Culture

On the last day and-a-half of our stay in Oaxaca we had an opportunity to visit some of the region’s best-loved tourist highlights. First on the itinerary was a visit to the state’s mineral springs known as Hierve El Agua. To travel to this spot which draws many tourists we had to take the busy western highway, passing the fabled tree of Santa María del Tule which we had visited the day before.

The valley view – bereft of any blots on the landscape, ie, peacock imitating musclemen!

We arrived at the famous springs town of San Lorenzo Albarrados after one-and-a-half hours and 62km on the road. Parking in a cliff-top car park above the springs themselves, we first took in an attractive panoramic view of the valley…the view was apparently too inspirational for one of our party, Tansel, a gormless young zennial weightlifter from London who wandered down to the edge. Once there this alpha-male contemporary “Arnold Schwarzenegger” couldn’t resist the chance to shed his shirt and strike up a series of highly stylised topless poses against a backdrop of rolling hills and valleys. As the bearded Tansel (who bore a passing resemblance to Hercules as seen in those atrocious Italian sixties “sword and sandals” movies) enthusiastically flexed his overdeveloped pecs and shoulders, another member of the group who he had demographically aligned himself with on the trip, a tall slim model-proportioned millennial girl named Kimberley obliging snapped away with her iPhone. It made for an amusing albeit almost surreal spectacle on the rock.

With Tansel’s penchant for self-indulgent preening sufficiently satisfied (and most importantly captured on camera) the group got down to business, commencing its descent to Hierve El Agua. We set off down a winding bush trail, at about two-thirds of the journey the trail forked presenting you with two options, left, a short cut to the springs down a sharp, rough track, or straight ahead, a longer, more circuitous trail close to the cliff edge thus offering the prospect of spectacular views of the valley and springs.

In a hurry to get to the springs I took the short cut but regretted it later after sensing some missed vistas from the scenic route especially of the limestone ‘waterfalls’. After emerging from the bush the approach to Hierve El Agua✳ itself is via a 60m-wide rock platform which ends abruptly on the edge of a daunting precipice. The platform comprises several shallow natural infinity pools including two artificial ones provided for visitors to swim in (staff pump water to the tourist-magnet pools from the springs).

Mexico’s calcified kale (‘castle’)

Nearby there’s a visitors’ change room. There were already several Swedish and Japanese tourists in the larger pool and a number of our tour group were keen to join them, not necessarily to immerse themselves in the allegedly healing springs but to cool off on what was an un-wintery warm day in southern Mexico. I had come to the springs with swimmers and towel originally planning on a dip, but immediately I got a close look at the water, I decided that I wouldn’t be joining in on the auto-immersion. The bathing springs were turquoise-green in colour (high mineral concentration? chemicals?)…already obsessed with bugs in the food, I wondered about bugs in the water, what put me off was its unprepossessing appearance, a question of water quality, it was far from pristine, it didn’t look clean to me (evidence of massive overuse?).

Oaxaca’s travertine terraces

Oaxaca’s own, home-grown travertine marvel
The terraced pools were gorgeous but the real natural wonder was below on the cliff face itself, there were waves of white or off-white coloured rock formations which ‘cascaded’ down the face of the cliff, giving this geological phenomenon the thrilling illusion of a waterfall! Known to the locals as cascada chica), in effect it could be described as a “petrified waterfall”, the formations are calcified, the same geological process that produced the world-famous Pamukkale Travertines in south-western Turkey (see also FN below). In both locations the naturally-generated hot springs, with carbonated minerals in the water, are thought to have therapeutic qualities for anyone bathing in the pools✦.

Complex of Mitla’s Columns

Mitlá – centre of Zapotec culture
After exploring Hierve El Agua we moved on to Mitlá which is 44km from Oaxaca de Juárez. The ruins at Mitlá are those of what was once an indigenous religious settlement for the Zapotec people (at one point this site was also under Mixtec control). The core of the buildings, parts of which are surprisingly well-preserved considering their age, is known as the Columns Group and within the Columns is the inner core, El Palacio Conaculta-Inah, which is both the archaeological and the architectural highlight of Mitla.

El Palacio’s intricate fretwork frieze

In pride of place, centrally located, is the Palace…this structure is a stand-out of Pre-Columbian architecture because of the quality of its fretwork (a mosaic of interlaced decorative design). The various tombs, panels, friezes and even whole walls of the Columns are adorned with elaborately carved, distinctive geometric designs in intricate detail. We followed our local guide as he took us on a tour of the Columns’ ruins – which went from the high point of the Palace Courtyard to narrow subterranean tunnels leading to darkly lit, underground tombs (which proved a very tight fit for even the smallest member of our entourage!)

FN: Hierve El Agua and Pamukkale are unique in nature as two instances of the world’s few remaining travertine formations – a consolidation of solidified limestone deposits forming from terraced mineral springs^. Hierve El Agua is admittedly minuscule in scope compared to the breathtaking and mesmerising blue and white appearance of Pamukkale’s vast terraced pools, but this petrified ‘waterfall’ encased in rock is a mightily impressive sight in its own right.

Another point of difference between the two was distinctly olfactory – visiting the “cotton castle” of Pamukkale, it was nigh-on impossible not to be affected (if not overcome) by the overpowering smell of sulphur in the air, it was everywhere! El Agua’s sulphur deposits by contrast didn’t exude that same invasive hold over our sense of smell (thankfully!).

Oaxaca’s “Maravilla Chica”

Travertines NZ style (Source: www.theguardian.com)

✳ Spanish, translated literally as “the water boils”
✦ The pools’ platform ledge is not the prime vantage-point to view the calcified waterfalls, the optimal view is below, further down the valley

^ Interestingly a locale near Rotorua in New Zealand was once a member of Turkey and Mexico’s exclusive “travertines club”, being similarly geologically endowed…NZ’s own travertine rock formation in the geyser-rich North Island was destroyed in 1886 by a massive cataclysmic event of nature – the eruption of nearby Mt Tarawera [‘The Lost Pink and White Terraces of Lake Rotomahana’, (by Kaushik), Amusing Planet, (2015/09), www.amusingplanet.com]

From Tenochtitlan to Teotihuacán: Modern Mexico City’s Pre-Columbian Past

HAVING viewed the excavated ruins of the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan (Templo Mayor) in Centro Historico, razed by the Conquistadors under Hernán Cortés in 1521 in order to build what became the Spaniards’ capital of New Spain, Mexico City, the following day we took an excursion to Teotihuacán to see a preserved and restored native city which long predates the Aztec capital.

It was a longish drive from central Mexico City as Teotihuacán is situated about 40km to the north-east. A few hundred metres before we got to the Pyramids (or ‘Piramides’ as it was written on highway signposts), the well-paved highway road morphed into an uneven, roughly cobble-stoned path in keeping with the ancient site of Pre-Columbian civilisation. Teotihuacán was as touristy as I imagined it would be (ie, totally!) but such a spectacular vista into a pre-modern past that was well worth the effort of traipsing several kilometres all over the vast site. It was even worth the effort of having to put up with an extremely annoying battalion of souvenir sellers at every turn. They tested our patience though especially with one particularly annoying habit of theirs…as we walked from one temple to another, every single time we got within cooee of a new group of hawkers camped strategically on the edge of a monument, one or more of them would commence to blow for all their worth on little jaguar whistles emitting a noise approximating the growl of a member of the big cat family! By the 12th time this happened I was experiencing the sort of visceral tremor one gets when someone very deliberately and slowly drags a fingernail down a blackboard! My instinct was to get past and away from them ASAP…unfortunately this wasn’t possible as in the echo chamber of that wide valley the sounds made by the jaguar imitators reverberated all over the site.

href=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/image-23.jpg”> The ubiquitous in-your-face hawkers all over the site! [/

href=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/F19F0B48-9E07-4761-A252-268F3F2E4B37.jpeg”> Templo El Luna[/

Teotihuacán was so well-preserved (or restored) that the layout of the city at its height could be easily reimagined. Dominating the complex of buildings were two great temples, the Pyramids of the Moon and the Sun, bisecting them is a central roadway known as the Avenue of the Dead. Nearby is a third, smaller and less impressive pyramid, the Temple of Quetzacoatl. Passing this temple our learned guide couldn’t resist the temptation to demonstrate what I later discovered through its repetition was a standard tourist guide manoeuvre at Mexican archaeological sites: clapping loudly adjacent to the pyramid to trigger an echoing effect.

Climbing to the very top of the steep Moon and Sun pyramids was no walk in the park (although the vertical rail made the ascent less onerous). The narrowness and condition of the ancient steps made them tricky to climb up but the taller El Sol could be broken down into several stages rather than the one long, sharp lineal climb of El Luna. Once at the top though we were rewarded with a 360° panorama of the surrounding valley from fantastic vantage points. While we gazed into the distance our guide explained the mathematical dimension of the temple complex: Teotihuacan was laid out according to geometric and symbolic principles. The two pyramids were intentionally positioned by the indigenous inhabitants in such a way to be aligned astronomically with each other.

ref=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/D16BD9D4-2CEB-4050-AAF2-463A948B4600.jpeg”> Temple ornamental detail[/ca

Back at ground level we visited a more recent archaeological discovery on the city’s outskirts. This much smaller temple had suffered more wholesale damage than “Sol and Luna” and was in the slow and painstaking process of being extensively restored to something resembling its former state and symmetry.

The heat of the midday sun (quite a shock to our system after the distinctly cool weather of Mexico City) was sapping our energies so we trudged laboriously back to the car park, stopping first at the gift shop where we didn’t loiter once we got a sighter of its heftily over-priced items. Outdoors, sampling the range of choices and much more favourably prices of the souvenir stalls, I picked up a little memento of Teotihuacán, a five centimetre-high black graphite ‘replica’ pyramid with Aztec hieroglyphics…I use the term replica incredibly loosely as the model bore no resemblance to any of the ancient, stepped pyramids we had just visited, save for it having a square base and four triangular sloping sides in a very stylised sort of way.

PostScript: The bus trip back to Mexico City was largely uneventful, a chance to rest our fully extended hamstrings after the strenuous Piramides climbs. Two-thirds of the way back we passed a hill that framed a pleasant picture, dotted as it was with a kaleidoscope of different coloured houses. An amusing ‘encounter’ on the return journey momentarily left me spooked!: as the traffic banked up on the road into Centro I looked across at a vehicle in the adjoining lane and noticed what I initially believed was a corpse with a limp leg dangling off the end of a flat-back truck (see the apposite photo)…in reality it was merely a still very much alive but tuckered-out worker taking the opportunity for an early afternoon siesta on a level if not especially comfortable surface!¤

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as the Spanish conquerors of Peru under Pizarro did in the city of Cuzco a decade or so after Cortés

the original inhabitants of Teotihuacan prior to the Aztecs (Nahautl-speaking people but of uncertain ethnicity) disappeared suddenly from the region ca 600-700 AD

¤ and quite dangerous too given the traffic in motion all around…where I ask were the highway police to pull the offending truck over and charge the thoughtless miscreant with leg protrusion! Another reminder, as if it was ever needed, that we were experiencing Third World realities

King Canute Battling the Relentless Tide*: The Dilemma of Rampant Beach Erosion – Gold Coast and Adelaide

All around this water-encircled continent, wherever there are pebbly or sandy shores, rocks and boulders by the sea, beach erosion is a fact of environmental life. Australian coastal geologists and environmentalists have singled out three areas for particular concern in the light of climate change and rising seas – the Gold Coast of Southern Queensland, Adelaide’s western seaside suburbs (in particular the stretch of coastline from Outer Harbour down to Marino), and Sydney’s Northern Beaches centred on the narrow sandy strip from Collaroy to Narrabeen.

Beach erosion from storm action is the expected end-product of a process when we get waves of higher height (measured from trough to crest) and of shorter periods (ie, the time interval in seconds between succeeding waves passing a specific point) repeatedly crashing onto shore. Storms of greater energy and intensity result in more sand being moved offshore and a storm bar builds up on the nearshore zone. For significant amounts of sand to return to the visible beach, ie, less erosion occurring (the process of accretion), Ocean and sea conditions need to be calmer. Unfortunately for the environment, and for coastal-clinging human habitation, all the trends are in the opposition direction! Concerned coastal watchers are increasingly preoccupied with the sense of a stark future, apprehensively eyeing the very real prospect of untrammelled beach attrition [‘Beach erosion: Coastal processes on the Gold Coast’, (Gold Coast City Council – Discovering Our Past), www.goldcoast.qld.gov.au]

ref=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/image-18.jpg”> GC damage inflict by Cyclone Dinah 1967[/ca
Gold Coast: Human encroachment on a coastal cyclone zone
The Gold Coast at latitude 28° S is in a tropical cyclone prone zone, its history of cyclone events goes back to the 1920s, including crunch years such as 1967 when eleven cyclones hit the Coast in rapid succession. Like Sydney’s Northern Beaches (see separate blog post) the Gold Coast/Surfers Paradise area is especially susceptible to property damage due to the same development pattern of building too close to the beach (multi-millionaires’ coastal mansion syndrome?). A 2009 study by the Queensland Department of Climate Change (DCC) estimated that there are 2,300 residential buildings located within 50 metres of sandy coast and 4,750 within 110 metres” [Tony Moore, ‘Gold Coast beach erosion plan: Is the plan on the right track?’ Brisbane Times, 05-Jul-2015, www.brisbanetimes.com.au].

=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/image-17.jpg”> Gold Coast erosion: Sand cliffs of epic proportions![/capti
Queensland’s volatile summer storm seasons will undoubtedly continue to be exacerbated by climate change and rising sea levels. In recent years an intensification of the cyclonic onslaught on the South Queensland coast has seen the buildup of towering sand ridges on beaches like Narrowneck and Broadbeach, as a result of massive quantities of sand being gouged from the beach.

Gold Coast strategies to counter erosion
In direct response to the devastating 1967 cyclones the City of Gold Coast commissioned the Dutch Delft Report and established a Shoreline Management Plan to follow up its recommendations. New seawalls were constructed to bolster the beaches and an artificial reef created at Narrowneck Beach (the Delft Report called for Gold Coast beaches to be widened to withstand severe weather conditions and restorative work was intended to re-profile the vulnerable beaches). The Shoreline Management Plan strategy incorporates a scheme to shift sand from south of the Tweed River (from NSW) through a system of bypass pumping to replenish the beaches on the Gold Coast [‘Gold Coast Shoreline Management Plan’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org. Transporting sand has proved a costly exercise for the Gold Coast Council ($20,000 a day during severe storm activity periods to shift 20,000 cubic matures of replacement sand) [‘Battling erosion on the Gold Coast’, (Splash ABC Queensland), www.splash.abc.net.au]

Adelaide hot spots
Adelaide’s north-western beaches’ susceptibility to the climatic forces of erosion mirrors that of the Gold Coast…and similarly it has been plagued by the same degree of imprudent decision-making by planners and developers resulting in property lines being positioned too close to the shoreline. A conspicuous case in point being Tennyson Beach 14km from Adelaide CBD. Tennyson locals recall that a stretch of its celebrated coastal dunes was washed away by massive storms in the 1960s…after it was restored to its previous height, amazingly houses were built on the same vulnerable dunes! Erosion at nearby West Beach has become so problematic that the West Beach Surf Life Saving Club has given consideration to moving the location of its clubhouse [‘Adelaide beachfront housing “facing erosion risks” like those at Collaroy, Sydney’, ABC Radio Adelaide, ABC News, 08-Jun-2016, www.abc.news.net.au

Coastal inundation
As elsewhere the fear for Adelaide coastal watchers is the inexorable rise of sea levels – scientists have predicted that its low-lying coastal land will be inundated with the bulk of the city’s beaches under water by 2050! Geologists and coastal experts such as Dr Ian Dyson have predicted that the great majority of Adelaide’s sandy beaches are at risk of being reduced to the same denuded state as Hallett Cove – once a glistening sandy beach, now a rocky foreshore bereft of sand¤. Dyson forecasts that the only beaches likely to survive, albeit as “pockets of beaches” on the metropolitan coast beyond 2026 will be at Glenelg, Henley Beach and Semaphore [Thomas Conlin, ‘Expert says key Adelaide beaches could disappear within a decade because of rising sea levels and erosion’, Sunday Mail (SA), 24-Jun-2016, www.adelaidenow.com.au

Notwithstanding the pessimism of scientific experts, the state government’s Coastal Protection Board maintains its sand-replenishment programs are effective in meeting the challenges which are undeniably formidable. Dr Dyson however has been critical of the authorities’ over-reliance on rock wall defences, contending that “retaining beaches (were) a losing battle without angled breakwaters or groynes at the southern end of erosion hot spots to slow sand movement [Conlin, ibid.]

Endnote: A dynamic problem – the natural drag of sand by the elements
An important factor contributing to beach erosion is the natural tendency of the ocean to drag coastal sand in a northward movement. This affects both Adelaide and the Gold Coast. On the GC’s southern beaches where sand is plentiful, the drift north to replenish the northern GC beaches is impeded by the presence of rock walls and groynes which interrupts the free flow of sand northwards [Tanya Westthorpe, ‘Sand erosion threat to prime Gold Coast tourist beaches’, Gold Coast Bulletin, 02-Aug-2012]. the top of the Gulf St Vincent. Sand replenishment and maintenance thus is a major challenge for the more southern lying beaches like Kingston Park and Seacliff which are in continually peril of being sand ‘starved’. Aside from the logistics of managing this, sourcing sand from quarries is proving an increasingly expensive exercise for the authorities [‘Sand carting plea to save Adelaide’s vulnerable beaches, including Seacliff and Kingston Park’, (E Boisvent), 12-Oct-2016, www.news.com.au]

See related post King Canute Battling the Relentless Tide*: The Dilemma of Rampant Beach Erosion – Collaroy and South Narrabeen (Nov. 2017)

_____________________________________________________________
* The title is of course a symbolic nod to King Canute (Cnut the Great) 11th century Anglo-Saxon ruler of the North Sea Empire, and the apocryphal anecdote of his futile but persistent efforts to turn back the tide on the seashore
❖ prompting sections of the media to jocularly re-label Broadbeach as “Steep Beach”
¤ Dyson blames ill-considered development and the construction of a beach marina for the degradation of Hallett Cove

Foundations of Basic Brewing: Beer’s Formative Role in the Making of Western Civilisation

“The Germanic peoples can endure heat and cold, but they can’t do without beer”.
~ Tacitus

If you delve into the story of beer’s prehistoric origins, you are instantly struck that its trajectory parallels that of another contemporary alcoholic beverage, wine. Just as with wine, drinking beer❈ was perceived from the earliest times not only to have an euphoric effect on consumers, but to contain tangible nutritional and medicinal properties.

Another aspect common to both beer and wine concerns the question of which region made the earliest beverages. The question is a fluid one as regular bouts of fresh archaeological findings and research continue to throw up new claimants for the title.

Clay tablet: Sumerians drinking beer through bent, elongated straws
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The majority view among historians is that the production of beer probably started in Western Asia, more exactly in the ancient lands of Mesopotamia. Dating its beginnings is hard to say with precision, the best evidence lies in discoveries of ancient drinking vessels and utensils. The earliest such artifacts are possibly some 7,000-year-old pottery jars with traces of beer substances that were found in Iran (Persia), and a 6,000-year-old Sumerian tablet of people drinking a beer-like beverage through reed straws[1]. Another finding, a tablet recording a poem written in the 19th century BCE in honour of the Sumerian goddess of beer, Ninkasi, also represents the first known recipe for the craft of brewing beer[2].
Bread or beer – what came first?
In the beginning there was the domestication of cereal grains, the transition from hunter-gatherers to agriculturalists … well not quite the beginning, this occurred (very roughly) 10,000-year-ago in the Neolithic period. The precedence of cereal grains is incontrovertible. What the next step was is not so black-and-white. The conventional wisdom has been that the cultivation of cereals was undertaken for the production of food. The grain would permit crops such as emmer wheat, einkorn wheat and barley to be grown … this led to the baking of bread and other food items.(photo: AP)
Beer came about, according to this view, by association with bread, possibly by accident. A likely explanation for this might entail a situation where a farmer or a baker samples water in which bread had been sitting for some period of time. The water having undergone spontaneous fermentation, the natural spoilage of the germinated grain created a beer substance. The sampler liked the taste and it caught on, and thus a beer culture was born[3].
Beer the conduit for permanent human settlement?
But did humankind get serious about crop cultivation solely to produce flour for bread-making, this theory is still the orthodox view but a body of research over recent decades suggests that the earth’s grains were possibly domesticated for beer before they were for bread. This counter-view has its genesis in the early 1950s with two scholars, Robert J Braidwood and Jonathan D Sauer. It was anthropologist Braidwood who posed the question “Did man once live by bread alone?” As a result of research on a site in Jarmo (present-day Iraq) Braidwood hypothesised the earliest farming of wheat and barley was more to do with the taste that had been acquired for beer. Botanist Sauer proposed that “thrist rather than hunger may have been the stimulus behind the origin of small grain agriculture”. Beer being a “palatable and nutritious beverage” (was a) “greater stimulant” for the cereal producers[4]. The desire for the beverage according to this view was the lever that prompted humans to begin forming permanent settlements[5].Building on this argument, Katz and Voight in the 1980s argued that beer had a dual appeal in antiquity: people enjoyed “the altered state of awareness” that sufficient intake of beer engendered, and at the same time they benefitted from beer’s nutritional superiority to every other food in their diet aside from animal proteins[6]Recent anthropological studies conducted in Mexico support the contention that beer took primacy over bread. Teosinte, the ancestral grass of modern maize common to Meso-America, was much more suited to beer making than for making corn flour for bread or tortillas. Mexican farmers only managed to domesticate the grass into the diet staple maize much later[7].
First draughts: Sumer, Mesopotamia and the Levant
Although the Greeks traced the genesis of beer to Ancient Egypt, the general consensus of scholars would attribute its origins, based on clear archaeological evidence, to Mesopotamia, and more specifically, mainly to sites in modern-day Iraq. Recent research from Simon Fraser University (Canada) suggests the importance of the brewing of beer to Natufian culture (the Levant) in the Late Epi-Paleolithic period (around 10,000-9,500 BCE[8]. The Godin Tepe (“Grand Mound”) site (Tepe Gawra settlement) in Northern Iraq is one of the oldest in the world to yield evidence of beer production and consumption. More recently, there was a discovery of even earlier wine activity in another Natufian settlement near Haifa, Israel [‘Traces of 13,000-Year-Old Beer Found in Israel’, (Brigit Katz), Smithsonian Magazine, 13-Sep-2018, www.smithsonianmag.com].
Chinese rice-beer brewmasters
As is the case with the origin of wine, the Orient has thrown up a worthy contender for the mantle of the first known instance of the brewing of beer. Recently a team in Jiahu (Yellow River Valley), Northern China, found pottery residues of a 5,400 to 4,900 year-old⊛ beer made from rice, barley and other grains[9]. Just as the Chinese used rice in their beer, other early brewers experimented with different materials aside from wheat and barley – rye in Thracian beer (as did the Russians later to make kvass), date palms and pomegranates in Babylon. Excavations at a 2,500-year-old Celtic site in Eberdingen-Hochdorf (Germany) unearthed the remnants of beer mixtures which had added the ingredients henbane, mugwort and carrot seeds to a base of barley malt[10].
Beer, a healthy option?
The Mesopotamians and Ancient Egyptians believed that beer had health benefits. The brewing process involved in producing beer killed off any inherent bacteria and viruses, this made drinking beer preferable to water which retained various pollutants that made it unsafe by comparison. It was also nutritionally advantageous – providing much-needed carbohydrates, proteins and minerals. The Ancient Egyptians moreover thought that sage and thyme contained anti-cancer properties and integrated these herbs into their beers. Positive medicinal effects in ancient beer included the essential amino acid lysine and the brews were high in B-vitamin content. The Egyptians identified the existence of some 100 remedies in beer. Further south on the Nile the Ancient Nubians 2,000 years ago infused their beers with antibiotic medicine, tetracycline[11].
⬆️ Ancient Egyptian artisan brewing up beer
Beer in ancient times was integrated into mythology and religion, thus elevating its status. It was part of the Sumerian “god myth” with Babylonians believing that beer was “a gift from the gods’ – or more precisely the ‘goddesses’ (Ninkasi – the ancient Sumerian titular goddess of beer). Egyptians associated their main goddesses, Hathor and Heqet, with the creation and consumption of beer (zytum¤), as was Tenenet (or Tjenenyet) who was the “Goddess of Beer and Childbirth” … beer was an integral part of the religious festivals and state occasions of Ancient Egypt (for which ‘special’ beer brews were produced)[12].
Beer Vs Wine
Ancient Greeks and Romans were generally less enamoured with beer than other ancient civilisations – although each still produced the beverage. In both societies wine was the preferred drink and one that bestowed social status. The great Ancient Greek philosophers and historians (eg,Xenophon in Anabasis) derided beer as a low-class drink for ‘Barbarians’. An indicator of the Greeks’ low opinion of beer as a beverage was that they exported it to Mediterranean ports as an aid to craftsmen to soften ivory in the making of jewellery[13]. A common perception concerning Ancient Egypt is that whilst the lower echelon of society drank beer (the “poor man’s” liquor), the upper strata right up to the Pharaohs drank wine only which was much more expensive. It would appear though that, to the contrary, beer was a staple in the diet of all Egyptians regardless of class, the Pharaohs included[14].

PostScript I: Women – the original home brewers
Sumerian society was structured around the home, the men hunted and the women collected and prepared the ingredients for eating and drinking. Within the domain of the home the first beers were brewed – by women! Women brewers in Sumeria were often also priestesses and thus held in high social esteem. When Babylon eclipsed the Sumerian Empire Babylonian women also enjoyed a similar prestige – having the right to divorce and own a business and property, and to work as brewsters (professional female brewers) and as tavern keepers (and as well as bakers)◘[15]. Early beer making elsewhere was also the preserve of (elite) women! eg, the indigenous Wari (Sp: Huari) society in the Andes in Southern Peru that flourished before the rise of the Inca Empire[16].
🍺👧🏾🍺👱🏽‍♀️🍺👩🏾‍🦰
Beer brewing and the product’s distribution and sale remained women’s work until brewing moved away from the home when beer-making took on a commercial-scale of activity. By the Industrial Revolution the brewing of beer had been fully taken over by men[17] .

PostScript II: The world according to beer
In 2011 a documentary, How Beer Saved the World, screened on the Discovery Channel. The film, once you get past the irritatingly over-the-top, megaphonic introduction, makes a reasoned case for beer’s fundamental role in shaping the world as we know it. A battery of scientists and anthropologists take turns explaining the breadth of the ancient (and the modern) world’s debt to beer – eg, it fuelled the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza (workers were paid in beer۞); it prompted the invention of mathematics and the world’s first form of writing, Cuneiform (the film argues that arithmetic and writing was necessary to account for beer’s production and distribution); it contributed to the modern process of pasteurisation. It also reinforces the view that barley was grown for beer before bread, and that the brewed beverage came about by accident.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼

❈ with the seemingly inexorable onslaught on the market of craft beers today, brewers are sifting increasingly exotic and sometimes weirder ingredients into their brew concoctions (so much so that lentil beer for instance seems almost a mild deviation from orthodoxy). For the ancient pioneers of beer-making though the basics comprised water, barley (or similar grain, eg, emmer, malt), yeast, but not hops … this last naturally growing plant ingredient was somewhat of a late-comer added to the composition of beer, it seems that the human cultivation of hops came much later (ca. AD 12th century), ‘The Short and Bitter History of Hops’, (D Martorana, Philly Beer Scene, Apr/May 2010), www.beerscenemag.com

⊛ early Yangshou period, flourished c.5,000BCE

¤ the honey-flavoured Hqt or Heqet was the most popular of the beer brews in Ancient Egypt

◘ this brings us back to the beer or bread debate – was beer-making an offshoot of bread-making or vice versa? Evidence from Ancient Egypt doesn’t resolve this question, but we do know that specially made bread was the basis for some of the beer brewed (beer loaves); also in Sumeria bippar (twice-baked barley bread) was used in the brewing of beer, Hornsey, loc.cit

۞ each one received a daily allowance up to one gallon of low-alcohol beer

🛡️ 🛡️ 🛡️

[1] ‘History of the word Beer’, (Beer100.com Your place for everything Beer), [NDP] www.beer100.com
[2] ‘Discover the Oldest Beer Recipe in History from Ancient Sumerian, 1800 B.C.’, (Open Culture), 03-Mar-2015, www.openculture.com
[3] B Mauk, ‘When was beer invented?’, (Live Science), 18-Jan-2013, www.livescience.com
[4] JW Arthur, ‘Beer through the Ages: The Role of Beer in Shaping Our Past and Current Worlds’, Anthropology Now, 6(2), Sept 2014), www.jstor.org; D Spector,’How Beer Created Civilisation’, Business Insider Australia, 27-Dec-2013, www.businessinsider.com.au
[5] although the “beer first” thesis has enjoyed a vogue, some scholars reject the argument wholly, eg, Paul Mangledorf: “Man cannot live on beer alone … Are we to believe that the foundations of Western Civilization were laid by an ill-fed people living in a perpetual state of partial intoxication?”
[6] Spector, loc.cit.
[7] JP Kahn, ‘How Beer Gave Us Civilisation’, The New York Times, 15-Mar-2013, www.mobile.nytimes.com
[8] ‘What Was Brewing in the Natufian? An Archaeological Assessment of Brewing Technology in the Epipaleolithic’, Hayden, B, Canuel, N & Shanse, J. J. Archaeol Method Theory (2013), 20:102. Doi:10/1007/s10816-011-9127-y
[9] J Wang et al, ‘Revealing a 5,000-year-old beer recipe’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, (113:201601466), 23-May-2016, www.pnas.org
[10] B Bower, ‘2,550-Year-Old Celtic Beer Recipe Resurrected’, (Science News), 17-Jan-2011, www.wired.com
[11] C Seawright, ‘Ancient Egyptian Alcohol: Beer, Wine and the Festival of Drunkenness’, 02-Jan-2013, www.thekeep.org; ‘Wiki History of Beer’, (Wikipedia), www.em.n.wikipedia.org; S Webb, ‘Did Beer create civilisation?’, Daily Mail (Aust), 21-Dec-2013, www.dailymail.co.uk
[12] SH Katz & MM Voight, ‘Bread and Beer: The Early Use of Cereals in the Human Diet’, www.semanticsscholar.org; IS Hornsey, A History of Beer and Brewing (2003)
[13] Hornsey, ibid.; JJ Mark, ‘Beer in the Ancient World’, Ancient History Encyclopedia, 02-Mar-2011, www.ancienthistory.org
[14] ‘Ancient Egypt Online’, www.ancientegyptonline.co.uk/index.html
[15] T Nurin, ‘How Women Brewers Saved the World’, 21-Apr-2016, www.bearandbrewing.com
[16] RR Britt, ‘Elite Women Made Beer in Pre-Incan Culture’, (Live Science), 14-Nov-2005, www.livescience.com
[17] ‘Women in Brewing’, (Wikipedia), www.em.n.wikipedia.org

Fountainhead of the Fermented Grape: Wine’s Ancient Origins

Where did the story of wine and wine-making begin? As with many things whose beginnings are shrouded in the mystery of ancient and even pre-historic times, it is very hard to pinpoint a one hundred percent, definitive answer to this question. The evidence for when and where humans might have first cultivated Vitis vinifera va. sylvestris (the wild grape fruit)❈ lies in the realm of archaeology.

🔝 Today’s Transcaucasian republics – physical map

The timeline for the first experiments with wine-making, thanks to a wealth of archaeological evidence, puts it in the pre-recorded history stage of humanity, more precisely in the Neolithic Era (in Eurasia this was, very roughly, from 9,000 to 4,000 BCE). The consensus view has traditionally tended to be that the rudiments of viticulture can be located in the area around Mesopotamia and the Caspian Sea (see also footnote).

The Fertile Crescent: home of Ur-winemakers
Transcaucasia (the Caucasus), that relatively narrow strip of multi-ethnic lands separating the Black Sea from the Caspian, stretching south to include the northern parts of Turkey and Iran, has perhaps the best claim to the honour. Archaeologists have discovered early signs of wine activity and implements in southern Georgia, north-western Azerbaijan, and northern Armenia, suggesting that “Stone Age people took advantage of a temperate climate and availability of wild fruit species to experiment with cultivating grapes”[1].

Wine expert Caroline Gilby identifies three basic pre-conditions for successful wine-making in the Neolithic era, (i) a stable human population settled in the one place for some time, (ii) invention of pottery/clay vessels for storage✜, and (iii) existence of wild grapevines (plus a self-fertile plant to cross-pollinate with). Transcaucasia fits the bill – plant cultivation for most of the major agricultural crops began in the Middle East region around 10,000 years ago. Within the greater Caucasus, Georgia for which wine is a national obsession has 500 distinct varieties of the vine, whilst Turkey and Armenia have around 600 and 200 respectively[2].

🔝 Zagros Mountains

Not to be outdone, Iran itself has a claim worthy of contention for longevity of vine production. In the mid 1990’s evidence of mey (Persian: wine), dating to about 5,400 BCE, was found in excavated jars at the Hajji Firuz Tepe site in the Zagros Mountains of north-western Iran. What was especially significant about this location was that it also contained evidence of the preservation of wine (in the form of a resin from the local terebinth tree)[3].

Armenia: site of oldest known vineyard
In recent years archaeologists discovered and excavated the Areni-1 Cave – the earliest known site of wine production (pre-historic “wine-making on an industrial scale” not hitherto unearthed)[4]. Items found at the vineyard at Vayots Dzor included a wine-press, fermentation vats, jars and cups[5]. The clay receptacles with their wine traces were radiocarbon-dated after being chemical analysed at between 4100 BCE and 4000 BCE. A side-effect of the recent vinaceous archaeological discoveries has been squabbling among the various Transcasusian states as to who were the first wine-makers[6].

🔝 Egyptian winery, 2nd millennium BCE

Mediterranean wine culture
Transcaucasian wine production and consumption clearly predates those from the Mediterranean region. Egypt is closest in time to the northern Eurasian area, its oldest traces of wine (yrp or irep), found inside the Tomb of the Scorpion King (Abydos, Upper Egypt), is about 5,000-years-old. Interestingly they were found to be spiked with natural medicines (effectively herbal wine). These medicinal additives were later adopted by Greek and Roman winemakers who followed the Egyptian practice[7]. The ancient Egyptians, who had a preference for red wine, were the first to depict wine and wine-making in their hieroglyphics.

🔝 Roman wine jars – great & small

In Grecian Macedonia fragments of crockery and assorted pottery with wine traces have been found dating back to around 4,500 BCE. Evidence of wine cultivation – dating from the mid-3rd century BCE – was also found on the Greek island of Crete. For ancient Romans wine was the drink de jour … initially Roman attempts at the craft of wine-making were derivative of the established Greek (and Etruscan) methods of viticulture but the Romans later drew on the ample supply of indigenous vines in southern Italy to produce their own varieties. With the ever widening reach of Roman imperial expansion – through war, trade and settlements – the Romans spread wine consumption and viticulture to the countries and regions it conquered (especially France, Germany, Spain and Portugal)[8].

Vino in eastern Asia: China’s early wine origins
In the mid 2000s China emerged as a candidate for the world’s earliest consumers of wine. An international team of archaeologists (Chinese, American and German) dug up an early Neolithic village (Jiahu) in Henan Province, unearthing pottery with traces of “wine-like drinks”(sic) (a fermented mixture comprising rice, honey and hawthorn fruit and grape). The beverage has been dated somewhere between the year 7,000 BCE and 5,500-6,000 BCE[9].

Whether China has the bragging rights to being the earliest consumer of wine (and perhaps the first centre of wine production), or Transcaucus does, one point remains clear: the interest and active, on-going work of archaeologists in this field, ensures that ownership of the title has a fluidity to it. Yet more candidates for the world’s earliest pioneers of viticulture are likely to be unearthed in the future.

🔝 Georgian vineyard (photo: BBC Travel)

FN: A vintage Georgian drop🍷 🕸🕸🕸The fertile valleys and protective slopes of Transcaucasia and modern-day Georgia were conducive to grapevine cultivation and Neolithic wine production. Archaeological evidence from Georgia suggests wine production there at least 8,000 years ago with the recent discovery of clay pots containing the residue of wine [‘Oldest Evidence of Winemaking Discovered at 8,000-Year-Old Village’, (Andrew Curry), National Geographic, 13-Nov-2017, http://news.nationalgeographic.com; ‘Georgia’, Vinolgue, (Miquel Hudin & Daria Kholodolina, Georgia: a guide to the Cradle of Wine, 2017)].

∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸

❈ the European grape-vine common to western Eurasia – between the Mediterranean and Caspian seas

✜ ceramic containers were invented around 20,000 years ago

𖣸𖣿𖨘 𖣸𖣿𖨘 𖣸𖣿𖨘

[1] T de Waal, The Caucasus: An Introduction, (2010). For instance, discoveries in the 1960s of domesticated grape pips in N/W Azerbaijan have been dated at around 6,000 BCE; in Shulaveri, Georgia, University of Pennsylvania academic Patrick McGovern found wine residues in the shards of 8,000-year-old ceramic vessels, A Friedrich, ‘Georgia’s Vintners Thrist for the Past’, The Washington Post, 22-Feb-2004

[2] C Gilby, ‘The Birthplace of Wine?’, Decanter, (Jan. 2012), www.winesofturkey.org. The domesticated form of the grape has hermaphrodite flowers which self-pollinate, KK Hurst, ‘Wine and its Origins – The Archaeology and History of Wine Making’, (About Education), www.archaeology.about.com

[3] ibid.; M Berkowitz, ‘World’s Earliest Wine’, (Newsbriefs) Archaeology Archive, 49(5) Sep/Oct 1996, www.archaeologicalarchive.org/9609/newsbriefs/charlesfort.html

[4] Dig project co-director Boris Gasparyan, cited in Gilroy, op.cit.

[5] ‘History of Wine’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org

[6] Gilroy, loc.cit.

[7] the Scorpion I wine did not emanate from a local production point, but was imported to the Nile from the Levant, B Handwerk, ‘Scorpion King’s Wines — Egypt’s Oldest — Spiked with Meds’, National Geographic News, 13-Apr-2009, www.news.nationalgeographic.com; J Butler & R Heskett,
Divine Vintage: Following the Wine Trail from Genesis to the Modern Age, (2012)

[8] ‘Ancient Rome and wine’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org

[9] ‘Chinese People were Drinking Wine 9,000 Years Ago’, (Phys Org) 19-Dec-2004, www.phys.org

Walama Redux: Ballast Point’s Cyclical Journey

In the time of Aboriginal Australia, the indigenous clans which inhabited the Balmain peninsula, the Wan-gal and the Cadi-gal, called the chunk of land that juts out between Snails Bay and Mort’s Bay, Walama (meaning “to return”). In the 230 years since white settlement, what is today called Ballast Point has come back to a peaceful state of natureφ.

At the time the First Fleeters encountered the place it was a bushy promontory with great intrinsic value to the original inhabitants. This narrow bluff of land on Sydney Harbour has gone full circle from a spot of untouched natural beauty to (post-1788) a grimy industrial site and is now being returned to something a little reminiscent of its natural state, in time perhaps becoming a palimpsest of what it once was.

Ballast Point Park was opened as a two-and-a-half-hectare public space in 2009 (also called ‘Walama’ as a mark of respect for the traditional custodians for the area). The restoration of the Point as public land was a victory for the people of Balmain, achieved only after a long struggle of determined local activism and community support to overcome the commercial plans of developers and the vacillation of state governments.

Indigenous motifs decorate the site’s industrial remnants

Walama’s geology, a boon for the return voyages of cargo ships
Before I outline the details of how the Ballast Point story with its vicissitudes played out in the late 20th century, I should recount a little of the headland’s early history following first contacts between the indigenous and white populations. The British settlers’ first use of Ballast Point seems to have been as a fishing and hunting spot. The name “Ballast Point” is derived apparently from the occurrence of rockfalls from the high point above the shoreline crashing to the bottom of the outcrop[1]. Ships having unloaded their cargo from Europe needed to secure suitable ballast for the return journeys. Stones accumulated on the Point’s shore – some heavy but manoeuvrable, others smaller, mainly broken rocks and gravel – were deemed ideal weighty material to steady the empty hulls of the merchant vessels, providing the stability needed for the ocean voyage.

Display remembering 'Menevia' which once occupied BP site
http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/image-16.jpg”> Display remembering ‘Menevia’ which once occupied the Ballast Pt site[/caption
A succession of colonial land-holders and ‘Menevia’
Part of colonial surgeon William Balmain’s early land grant, Ballast Point passed through many hands in the first half of the 19th century including Fred Parbury, James Goodsir, Henry Smith, George Cooper and John Gilchrist (who subdivided it as ‘Glenelg Crescent’ but this enticed few if any buyers)[2]. Merchant and draper Thomas Perkins acquired the promontory in 1852. By 1864 Perkins had built and occupied a large two-story, sandstone villa on the headland, which he named Menevia§. For some years after it was built Ballast Point was known as Menevia Point. After Perkins’ death the mansion became a boarding house until after World War I.

Texas Oil takeover
By 1928 Menevia had fallen into disrepair and was up for sale. Balmain Council expressed an interest but public funds were tight at the time and it couldn’t afford to buy it. Texas oil company Texaco snapped it up. Texaco, who later merged with Standard Oil of California to form Caltex, used it as a depot to store very large quantities of petroleum (and later as a grease plant).

Old Caltex sign from the 1960s retained on site: grease plant

Over time Caltex built 30 large storage tanks at what became known as the Balmain Terminal. However this large scale enterprise did nothing the quality of life of local residents, with trucks coming and going through the narrow, congested streets of Balmain an ongoing irritant to those living in the, mainly humble, dwellings nearby[3].

Caltex scale-back and preparation for pull-out
Ballast Point became less important to Caltex after the company in the late sixties opened a new, larger oil terminal at Banksmeadow (South Sydney). From the late 1980s through the 1990s Caltex tried to prepare the way to unload its Balmain operations in a commercial deal, twice petitioning Leichhardt Council to have its land rezoned from waterfront industrial to residential, but without success. A struggle for the future land use of Ballast Point ensued: the local community in Balmain formed an opposition group called Ballast Point Campaign Committee (BPCC) in the mid Eighties to save Ballast Point by returning the headland to public land. Leichhardt Council eventually supported BPCC in its actions[4].

End-game: Victory for the public over developers’ profit-driven plans for the Point
The Walker Corporation (formerly McRoss Developments) sought to purchase the 2.6ha headland site from Caltex to build a 138 unit apartment complex, but the deal was blocked by the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority’s (SHFA) compulsory acquisition of the land in 2002[5]. Caltex received nearly $14.4 million in compensation. Walker Corp was offered $10.1 million by the state government (as they had acquired an option on the land), which it disputed in the High Court of Australia as grossly undervalued (Walker Corporation P/L v Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority (2008). Initially the developers were awarded compensation of $60M but this was overturned on appeal and the original amount of $10M reaffirmed[6].

After the SHFA took control of Ballast Point it took another seven years during which the Caltex site was remediated, followed by planning, designing and landscaping, before the post-industrial park was opened in July 2009. The design of the new park includes walls composed of recycled rubble enclosed in wire mesh gabions (cylindrical baskets), sandstone plinths, artworks commemorating the former industrial role, eg, Tank 101 (storage tanks) as well as reminiscences of Menevia – artefacts of the Victorian house excavated whilst the site was being remediated. These comprise domestic utensils (crockery, glassware, bottles, etc) mounted in a display case in the park. Unfortunately, recently the glass cabinet was smashed by mindless vandals and the damaged archeological items have been removed.

The final form of Ballast Point Park has come in for some criticism from various quarters, especially from Paul Keating (who originally championed its creation) for “its lack of romantic verdancy” and the failure of the architects to erase all reminders of the past “industrial vandalism” of Caltex (as the ex-PM described it). Opponents of this viewpoint have attacked it as representing an attitude that seeks to ‘sanitise’ history by omitting the full story of the place’s industrial past[7]. With the full passage of time, they advocate, vegetation will bring this public park back to something like the wooden headland it was prior to European colonisation.

Footnote: The Gabion, the all-purpose retaining wall
Ballast Point Park is not a place to visit if you have a “gabion phobia”, the park is positively gabion-overload! Upon arrival the ubiquity of this construction feature is all-too evident! The Gabion⋇ has become quite the go-to outdoor feature for councils and town planners in recent times. It is both highly utilitarian and cost-effective and embraces the recycling ethos. Some may also find an aesthetic appeal in the gabion’s unusual symmetry – the way it neatly packages an assortment of multi-coloured, irregular-shaped, cast-off building materials in (usually) oblong wire-mesh containers.

⋇ Gabion (from Italian gabbione meaning “big cage”; from Italian gabbia and Latin cavea meaning “cage”) is a cage, cylinder, or box filled with rocks, concrete, or sometimes sand and soil for use in civil engineering, road building, military applications and landscaping [Wikipedia].

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φ At the time the British came in 1788, the pioneering settlers reported that indigenous hunters of the Wan-gal and Cadi-gal clans would hunt kangaroos through the densely wooden and bushy peninsula, driving them towards the north-eastern point of Balmain (down the hill into present-day Illoura Reserve) into a cul-de-sac at Peacock’s Point where they were able to trap the animals and easily kill them

§ The name ‘Menevia’ was apparently derived from a cathedral in Swansea, South Wales which bears the name


[1] Peter Reynolds,’Ballast Point’, Dictionary of Sydney, 2008, http://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/ballast_point,viewed 15 May 2016
[2] ibid
[3] ibid
[4] ‘Ballast Point Park Opening’, The Peninsula Observer, Vol 44 No 3 Issue 312 (Sept 2009)
[5] Ex-PM Keating, Tom Uren, et al, apparently influenced the Carr Labor Government’s decision to make the Caltex site a public space, K Legge, ‘How Paul Keating saved Barangaroo headland park on Sydney Harbour’, The Australian, 3 October 2015
[6] B Makin, ‘Ballast Point: from oil terminal to public park’, Sydney Morning Herald, 6 Oct 2005
[7] as Laura Hardin put the counter-view: Ex-PM Keating’s “interpretation of history risks replacing the gritty authenticity of these places with the deceptive, pastel languor of a Lycett watercolour…seeks to make amends by erasure, denial and the importation of the picturesque”, L Harding & S Hawken, ‘Ballast Point’, ArchitectureAU, 2 Jan 2012, www.architecture.com.au

Balmain’s Legacy of Industry, Workers, Pubs and Architectural Heterogeneity

The Balmain peninsula, just to the west of Sydney’s CBD, has a long post-settlement history of European mixed land use, both as a magnet for industry and a place for workers and their families – and room also for those financially well-heeled enough to afford the pick of the land and a waterfront property with magnificent views of Australia’s finest harbour.

Balmain’s dirty industries
From the 1840s industry had started to make inroads into the Balmain landscape, and the types of enterprises were becoming many and varied. Over the next 150 years the suburb’s diverse industry has included power stationsφ, an English-owned colliery (from 1897) located just east of Birchgrove Public School, whose long-term productivity proved disappointing. After the mine’s closure in 1931 it produced methane gas until the early 1940s. Eventually houses were built over it and today an exclusive residential complex known as Hopetoun Quays sits atop the site.

Thames St Ferry Wharf, Mort's Bay
ef=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/image-15.jpg”> Thames St Ferry Wharf, Mort’s Bay[/cap
At Mort’s Bay a shipyard and dry dock (Australia’s first) was created in the 1850s, the shipyard was not very successful, and the business eventually morphed into a maritime engineering enterprise employing in excess of 1,000 men. Thomas S Mort, the dock owner, created ‘Mort’s Town of Waterview‘, a subdivision of land to provide housing for his dockyard workers[1]. There was also a ferry service built at Mort’s Bay c.1895. The Thames Street Wharf, with its distinctive curved shelter, transported between 20,000 and 24,000 workers to and from Circular Quay daily (it is thought to be the only Victorian era ferry still operating in the Sydney Harbour network)[2].

Balmain’s ‘clean’ industries
Other industrial enterprises on the peninsula included a saw mill at the end of Nicholson Street, owned by Alexander Burns, the location later taken over by the Adelaide Steamship Co which employed more than 600 men in its ship repair business; a coal loader; US soap and toothpaste giant Colgate-Palmolive with a factory employing over 140 operated in Broadstairs Street, later renamed Colgate Avenue (the Colgate building, which was known locally as “the Olive” is now smartly renovated apartments)[3]. Interestingly, grimy industrial Balmain had no shortage of soap as a second company, Lever and Kitchen (later morphing into the multinational corporation Unilever), also manufactured soap and glycerol in a huge (10ha) plant near Booth Street and Punch Park. At its zenith Lever and Kitchen had a workforce of over 1,250, many of whom lived locally.

imageThe co-existence between home-maker and industry in Balmain has not always been an easy one. The peninsula developed as an industry hub and a desirable place to dwell more or less concurrently. Its proximity to Sydney Town made it attractive to industrialists and to the workforce. By 1846 Balmain housed 19.6 per cent of Sydney and was the largest residential area of the colony – predominantly working class as the workers in the main wanted to be close to where the industrial work was[4].

Notwithstanding the numerous working men (and their unpaid women folk) in the early days[5] there was also a significant middle class component, after all someone had to live in those magnificent Post-Regency and Georgian mansions. “Captains of industry” like Ewen Wallace Cameron and Robert (RW) Miller lived in such palatial homes on the peninsula, as did local developers and businessmen like Robert Blake and JJ Yeend.

The peninsula’s population in 1848 was just 1,337, however there was a spike in numbers over the remainder of the century reaching a straining 28,460 by 1895[6]. The working class parts of Balmain were clearly overcrowded and the suburb’s pattern of development disorganised and haphazard, eg, factories were springing up alongside workers’ modest houses and public schools[7].

ALP “Holy Grail”
Because of the historic heavy concentration of blue-collar industry in Balmain, a strong trade union presence (in particular the maritime industries with the Painters and Dockers Union) has always been part of the landscape. That Balmain/union nexus led to the formation of the Labor Electoral League (which changed its name to the Australian Labor Party) at the relocated Unity Hall Hotel (290 Darling Street) in 1891. The ALP has dominated state elections in the seat covering the Balmain area (in 1978 capturing 82.4 per cent of the two-party vote), although the current MP is a Greens politician, which continues the traditional left-leaning trend of peninsula politics.

Birchgrove: 1855 map 🗺

The Louisa Road dress circle
Birchgrove in Balmain’s north-western point is thought of as the classiest (in reality values at least) area of the whole peninsula, well, not all of Birchgrove, just one street … actually just part of one street, Louisa Road, the end part. Birch Grove House, believed to be the first house built on the Balmain peninsula, was located at 67 Louisa Rd. It was constructed in 1810 for army regiment paymaster John Birch and demolished, sadly, in 1967. In the 1860s and 70s Hunters Hill developers, the Joubert brothers, subdivided Birchgrove land backing on to Snails Bay§. The estate was advertised as “a miniature Bay of Naples” but few of the villas were ever sold[8].

Home owners today in the exclusive bits of Louisa Rd (properties starting at well in excess of $3 million) include movie producers and directors, famous writers, members of platinum record-breaking rock bands, as well as the more mainstream common, garden variety” type of professionals. But it has not always been the exclusive preserve of society’s elite – 150 Louisa Rd at one time was the rented headquarters of the Bandidos bikie gang. After the 1984 Milperra Massacre involving rival Comancheros and Bandidos bikie gangs, the Bandidos members were turfed out of the 1897 Federation/Queen Anne house[9].

Darling Street: sandstone hotel precinct
The houses in East Balmain don’t overall tend to match the price tags of Federation-rich Louisa Road, but they represent some of the best and most interesting, as well as the oldest, architecture in the peninsula. Darling Street, starting from East Balmain Wharf, is dotted with 1840s-1860s sandstone hotel buildings. Some are no longer functioning as pubs, eg, the Shipwrights Arms, 1844 (10 Darling St), the original Unity Hall Hotel, c.1848 (49 Darling St), the Waterford Arms, now ‘Cahermore’ (“Fort on the Hill”) 1846 (50 Darling St). These 1840s buildings have a plain Post-Regency style to them, simple stone and wooden roofs, clean lines with little or no ornamentation. The contrast is with the later Victorian buildings, such as ‘Bootmaker’s Cottage’ 1860 (90 Darling St) which is more ornate (if restrained) with stone quoins (corner blocks) plus a combination of stone and brick materials and elegant cast-iron balustrading[10]. The enhanced use of decoration and superior materials in the grander later Victorian houses, reflect the affluence of Sydney after the colony’s Gold rushes.

Cameron’s Cove and Datchett Street
The extent to which Balmain had become an architectural zoo In the 19th century can be glimpsed from comparing Cameron’s Cove with its Victorian Italianate mansions like ‘Ewenton’ 1854-72 (1 Blake St)[11] with the delightful but ramshackled old timber cottages in little Datchett Street, a narrow, steep side lane-way just across the Cove. Some of the Datchett dwellings look a bit like holiday shacks and would not be out-of-place in a sleepy little backwater down the coast✲.

Just to the east of Ewenton in Grafton St, backing on to the fairly new White Bay Cruise Terminal, sits Hampton Villa. This 1849 Post-Regency house with its Tuscan columns is best known as the 1880s residence of Sir Henry Parkes (five times premier of NSW and “Father of Federation”).

De-industrialising the peninsula: Enter the developers
From the 1960s Balmain’s character began to change. A slow process of gentrification was occurring as property values rose and more people renovated their old houses. Industries moved out, partly because of a trend toward decentralisation, and partly because many were dying off[12]. The prospect of a waterfront home tantalisingly close to the CBD was a lure for many a “cashed-up” punter!

In the eighties and early nineties industrial areas of the peninsula were rezoned as residential by a development friendly Leichhardt Council to the glee of developers like Leda Group who were free to carve out new middle class estates from the old Unilever site and elsewhere in Balmain. All of which meant the suburb had fast become beyond the reach of most working class home-owners.

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φ strictly speaking, these two power stations, White Bay and Balmain (Cove), which book-ended the peninsula east and west, were located in Rozelle, but within the Balmain district
§ the Wan-gal (Aboriginal) name for the point jutting out from Birchgrove is Yurulbin which means “swift running waters” as it is the point of confluence where the two headwaters meet (Port Jackson and Parramatta River)
✲ a number of the street’s old timber cottages have gone, to be replaced with dense concrete heavily-fortified looking structures

[1] LA Jones, ‘Housing the Worker’, (unpublished BA(Hon) thesis, University of Sydney), Oct 2011
[2] ‘History of Balmain Thames Street Ferry Wharf’, (NSW Transport), www.rms.gov.au
[3] G Spindler, ‘A Sydney Harbour Circle Walk 2011-12’ (Historic Notes & Background), Apr 2011, www.walkingcoastalsydney.com.au
[4] ‘Wyoming’ (Balmain Italianate Mansion), NSW Office of Environment & Heritage, www.environment.nsw.gov.au
[5] so much so the mainstream Sydney press in 1889 described Balmain with its 5,000 dwellings as “working men’s paradise”, Illustrated Sydney News, 11 Jul 1889
[6] ‘Balmain: Local History’, Inner West Council/Leichhardt Municipal Council, www.leichhardt.nsw.gov.au
[7] ‘History of Balmain’, www.balmainlodge.com.au
[8] ‘Wyoming’, op.cit.. Didier Joubert named Louisa Rd after his wife and the adjoining streets after his children
[9] Spindler, op.cit.
[10] ‘Humble to Handsome – Balmain Architecture 1840-1860s’, (Balmain Walks, Balmain Association Inc), www.balmainwalks.org.au
[11] ‘Ewenton’ itself is something of an architectural mélange with its mixture of Moorish arches and Georgian and Victorian features, ibid.
[12] eg, the 14 or so old shipyards of Balmain have all closed down, ‘Old Balmain: Paddocks and Shipyards’, Local Notes (2012), www.localnotes.net.au

When Bill Met Yang in Lintong

If ever you take a tour of China, one of the first places you will probably want to visit is Xi’an, home of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses site and its Museum. Once you get there, while being driven to the venue from Xi’an Xianyang Airport or perhaps from your city hotel after a ride around Xi’an’s impressive City Walls, there’s a good chance that your Chinese tour guide while giving you his or her information talk will bring up the topic of Bill Clinton’s famous 1998 visit to Xi’an. This celebrated occasion has entered into local folklore and most Chinese guides in the Terracotta “palace” are armed with the “special Clinton anecdote”. I’ll get to that story soon enough but first some basic background on the Terracotta Warriors.

pan style=”color: #000080;”>href=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/image-4.jpg”> Terracotta Territory[/[/

The Yangs do some digging with totally unexpected consequences
The whole phenomena of the Terracotta Warriors has its origin in March 1974 when several dirt-poor peasant farmers (thought to be seven in number) in Xiyang village in Lintong County, were digging for water in the dry, forbidding countryside 35km east of Xi’an. One of the farmers, Yang Zhi’fa, struck something hard with his hoe which he thought was a bronze relic of some kind. Digging a bit deeper he discovered the object had the form of a shoulder and torso. The other farmers, thinking they were human remains and fearful of Buddhist superstitions, urged Yang to rebury it so as not to offend the ancestors (ghost lore has been commonplace in the eastern Xi’an region for centuries). Yang was unperturbed and shortly later took the dismembered clay warrior to the Lintong Museum. Before long archaeologists from Beijing were swarming all over the site and so commenced a massive state-run excavation (of three pits) which has unearthed over the course of the last 40 years, an army of terracotta soldiers, horses and chariots, of what is the Mausoleum of the first Chinese Emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi who unified China c. 221BC (imperial Qin Dynasty).

The 'aircraft hangar' of terracotta warriors
style=”color: #000080;”>ef=”http://www.7dayadventurer.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/image3.jpg”> The ‘aircraft hangar’ of terracotta warriors[/cap[/cap

The Terracotta Warriors discovery: Profitable to some involved but not to others!
The government eventually expropriated the land from the farmers to give free rein to the excavations, effectively destroying the Yang village. The dispossessed villagers were inadequately compensated for the disruption to their lives. By the early 1990s, after years of meticulous and arduous preparation work, the site area was opened as a museum and rapidly became a modern wonder of the world and a tourist mecca. The permanent exhibition proved to be a great little supplementary ‘earner’ for local Communist Party officials and many enterprising business people also profited enormously from the financial opportunities. This propitious good fortune has not been shared by the statues’ discoverers or by the Yang community as a whole. In fact Yang’s fellow farmers blamed him for the loss of their plots and livelihoods, and he was ostracised by his neighbours. Other misfortune followed for the community, two of the farmer Yangs died, only in their fifties due to impoverished circumstance and another, Wang Puhzi, hanged himself. To the farmers who had feared that the feng shui of the location would be disturbed by digging up the area, these tragic outcomes confirmed in their minds that it had been cursed.

A Terracotta Army fan with good connexions
Over in Washington DC, President Bill Clinton, when he wasn’t being leader of the “Free World”, had been following the unfolding archaeological story of the Xi’an terracotta army with growing interest and fascination. So, not long after, on a scheduled 1998 state visit to Beijing, Clinton requested that PRC allow him to make a side trip to Xi’an so he could see the terracotta marvels in situ for himself. The Chinese authorities, sensing a PR coup in the making, arranged for Mr Yang to be on hand at the site to meet the American president before the news cameras. For the occasion the (presumably) illiterate farmer was taught a few words of English to greet the president with. As it transpired, Yang got very nervous at the prospect of meeting the US leader and when introduced to Clinton on the day, instead of saying “How are you?”, what came out of Yang’s mouth in his halting English was “Who are you?” to which Clinton instantly responded, “I’m Hillary’s husband!” The flustered Mr Yang replied,”Me too!” Everybody laughed…on the Chinese officials’ part it was more of a nervous laugh!

⬅️ When Bill met Yang (yes but which Yang?)

Mr Yang, ‘professional’ book-signer
The encounter between president and peasant farmer generated a second anecdote: at the meeting Clinton asked Mr Yang for his autograph. Yang, who could neither read nor write, simply drew three circles on a piece of paper. Followed a slightly uncomfortable moment … not least for the embarrassed Chinese officials in attendance. Consequently, the local authorities later sent the uneducated Yang for calligraphy lessons, after which Yang was given a job by the government in the Terracotta Warriors tourist shop. His task was to sit at a table all day signing books on the Terracotta Warriors (leading to his being called by some people, “China’s First Professional Signer”). It should be added that Yang Zhi’fa subsequently disputed the inference of this story circulated by a Chinese newspaper in 2002 that he was illiterate, contending that he in fact had a primary school education. Yang sued the newspaper and was eventually awarded damages [Yu Fei, ‘Living with the Terra-cotta Army’, (Consulate-General, Peoples Republic of China in Houston), www.houston.china-consulate.org].

Crafty Mr Yang
If you venture into the Emperor Qin Museum shop in Xi’an, as I did three years ago, you will still see the same unsmiling Mr Yang, inscribing his signature on the inside of countless coffee table books, none of which are written by him! Although he looks distracted and bored in his sedentary confinement, he is in actual fact ever vigilant, on the lookout for maverick tourists trying to snap his precious photograph, something he is peculiarly adverse to. While he was looking the other way, and thinking I was out of the line of his peripheral vision, I tried to grab a surreptitious, sneaky photo of Yang from the side…just as I was about to, the sour-faced septuagenarian, suddenly and without looking towards me, raised a cardboard sign in my direction which said in large English letters, “NO PHOTOS OR VIDEOS ALLOWED!”.
But is it the ‘real’ Clinton? 

Other spots, other ‘Yangs’
If you wander further afield around the Terracotta Warriors complex you may chance upon other individuals also purporting to be “Mr Yang”. It’s quite an industry in Xi’an! In one building near the entrance to the complex there is Yang Xi’an who passes himself off the discoverer of the warriors (although his banner actually says “the discover of the warriors”), displaying a photo of himself posing with Clinton as proof of his credentials. It transpires that this Mr Yang was in fact the manager of a Xi’an factory making replicas of the warriors at the time of Clinton’s 1998 visit – this explains the photo taken when “Slick Willie” stopped off at the factory on route to the Terracotta Museum.

Would the real Mr Yang, the genuine “Discoverer of the Terracotta Warriors’, please stand up?
In the glow of world attention being lavished on the terracotta army discoveries and the recognition bestowed on Mr Yang, it is not surprising that the other three surviving farmers present at the 1974 archaeological find wanted to get in on the act. Yang Quany was also given a spot in the museum signing books for a small stipend and began promoting himself as “the discoverer of the treasures”. The remaining two Yangs followed suit. Yang Zhi’fa however discredits his fellow Lintong farmers’ motives and insists that it is he who was primus intra pares (first among equals) in discovering the Emperor Qin relics.

And it doesn’t stop there by any measure. Zhao Kangmin, retired curator of the nearby Lintong Museum, has made his case for recognition as the real discoverer. The way Mr Zhao tells it, after the initial finding Yang Zhi’fa brought the fragment of the terracotta relic first to him at his museum and that he went back to investigate the discovery, and later he reconstructed the first terracotta warrior and horse. Zhao argues that he was the one who had the expertise to grasp the significance of the cultural relics, and that “seeing” as Yang and the others merely did, “doesn’t mean discovering”. You’ll find Zhao, despite being retired, most days at the Lintong Museum where he has set up a small display of the terracotta figures. Zhao spends the day signing postcards for tourists, on the cards he writes, very deliberately: “Zhao Kangmin, the first to discover, restore, appreciate, name and excavate terra-cotta warriors” [Ibid].

imageWhilst the Lintong farmers haven’t made much money from discovering (or being associated with the discovery of) the terracotta army, the same can be said of the workers who did most of the hard physical work of unearthing and restoring the statues. Most of those recruited to curator Yuan Zhongyi’s archaeological team found themselves working round the year with only a break at the time of the Spring Festival holiday for a wage of only 1.72 yuan (US $0.28) a day in 1976 [Zhao Xu, ‘Yang Zhifa, 76, soldiers on amid terracotta warriors’, (09-XII-2014),China Daily USA, www.chinadaily.com].

A Terracotta Warriors discoverer–impostor industry
Back at the Qin Terracotta Warriors and Horses Museum, as the fame and popularity of Emperor Qin’s Mausoleum grows, more impostors continue to spring up. These “fake discoverers” of the warriors were like Yang Xi’an, not even present at the discovery of the relics in 1974 (some are not even old enough to have been there!). A manager of one of the gift shops admitted that the complex shops hire men who fraudulently passed themselves off as discoverers of the relics to facilitate the sale of terracotta warrior books by the retailer [Simon Parry, ‘Curse of the Warriors’, South China Morning Post, 15 Sept 2007, www.scmp.com].

“The three in the middle just moved!”

PostScript: Discovery of yet more warriors made from fired clay
Meanwhile back in the football field sized excavation pits at Lintong, Emperor Qin’s life-sized army of clay statues continues to grow. Archaeologists working in pit Nō 2 recently made a fresh discovery, one which might yield another 1,400 warriors, archers, horses and charioteers (and 89 chariots of war) [‘China’s Terracotta Army has new recruits’, Daily Mail, 6 May 2015, www.dailymail.co.uk]. Chinese officials have speculated that there may be around 6,000 terracotta warriors at the site still to be excavated … ensuring no doubt that there will be plenty of new and ongoing opportunities for discoverer-impostors in the future.