Cape Tenaro: another entrance to the Underworld
Hades, the god of the dead and the underworld, was not honoured with temples in ancient Greece, nor was he depicted in statues or other representations, despite his prominent seat in the Greek Pantheon. His realm remained unseen: gloomy and misty for those burdened by their deeds; bright and pleasant for the heroes or the virtuous.
Still, Hades was never forgotten; death is an integral part of life after all. As a result, many “mysteries” (i.e., mystical and mysterious rituals) developed to connect people with the chthonic divinities, while certain areas were worshipped as the entrance to the underworld.
The Nekromanteio in Western Greece, close to River Acheron, is the best known worldwide. The water’s gentle flow, once upon a time carrying the souls of the dead, emanates serenity and reverence even to this day. Amidst the lush plains, the soul mourns the impermanence of our physical presence and, at the same time, finds solace in our expected immortality.
The other famous Gate to Hades has been spotted at the end of Cape Tenaro in Mani, Peloponnese: the southernmost point of Greece and the Balkan Peninsula. There is no tranquillity in this place: there are only wilderness and a startling taste of freedom, of utmost liberation if you will, maybe as a result of the merging energies of the three ancient brothers: Zeus (in the sky), Poseidon (in the sea), and Hades.
The landscape is barren, much like the whole province of Mani, and untamed like the soul of its people. Hidden from the tourist hordes, a couple of bays sparkle under the sun, their waters simmering with excitement and titillation.
The tarmac road ends close to the ancient Sanctuary and Death Oracle of Poseidon Tainarios, its remains found in the crumbling walls of the nearby Byzantine church of Agioi Asomatoi. One can venture through the arches only to find a niche with votives – a few coins, rocks, a bottle of wine, a doll, a half-eaten bag of snacks, a milk pack, a handwritten note, a ticket – the humbleness of which would make every god rejoice.
From the remains of the sanctuary, one can take the path towards the end of the cape – an easy, 30-minute walk – passing by a few mosaic floors, remnants from the Roman era. The trail is comfortable and flat, but the wind that blows incessantly adds a level of difficulty to the hike, expunging thoughts, opening the heart, and cleansing the soul. The sea roars on either side, embracing the rocks of the coastline with passion and fervour that feel masculine, even erotic. The human presence appears to be inconsequential; yet, our perception gives meaning to this grandeur, and, hence, we become an integral part of the landscape.
At the tip of the peninsula: a lighthouse. Built by the French in 1882 and renovated in 1950, it remains a significant reference point to the modern sailors – maybe even to the migratory birds on their route to Africa. It is said that there is a small cave there – the actual entrance to the realms of Hades – from where Hercules entered to find Cerberus and Orpheus, Euridice. I did not see the cave myself – maybe it is accessible only by boat. The surrounding sea, though, the broad horizon, and the solidity of the lighthouse – a gravitational spot amidst the wilderness – radiated a meditative ambience in which body, mind, and heart were purged. And this was enough.
Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou
