Ancient Theatre of Epidaurus

In the morning, we headed to nearby Epidaurus, once the Mediterranean’s most renowned healing center, where pilgrims came seeking cures for illness.

Today, the showstopper is the ancient theater (340–330 BC) beautifully preserved, with seating for more than 14,000. Its legendary acoustics were effortlessly proven when our guide tested them with a single clap, the sound carrying all the way to the top rows where we stood. Apparently the theater’s acoustics are so precise that no modern amplification is needed for performances which still take place there today!

Drizzly as it was that morning, we were warned that rain only dampens the sound slightly, a testament to the theater’s remarkable design. Those of us who climbed to the top took our time making our way back down the steep, slippery stairway to head over to the museum.

Archaeological Museum of Epidaurus

At the museum, our guide brought the Sanctuary of Asklepios vividly to life, weaving together stories of medicine, ritual, and a bit of theatrical flair. She drew our attention to the inscriptions carved into stone – records of miraculous healings, yes, but also of very ordinary daily life at the sanctuary as well as the dream-based therapies, rituals, and bathing that took place on the grounds.

Once again, I found myself deeply impressed by the Greeks’ obsession with recording everything. Not only were patients’ personal histories and very specific ailments carefully listed (apparently carving things in stone renders HIPAA entirely irrelevant), but so were the god’s intervention and the resulting miraculous cure. The texts didn’t stop there. They also spelled out the patient’s obligation to pay the god for treatment – and, in true Greek fashion, the consequences should that debt go unpaid. Divine healing came with terms and conditions!

As we moved through the space, our guide pointed out the votive offerings left behind in gratitude: carved stone body parts – hands, feet, eyes, ears – alongside architectural fragments from the temples and treatment buildings themselves.

But what truly stopped me in my tracks were the tools. Bronze tweezers, precise measuring devices, even a simple buckle – aside from a bit of rust, they look virtually indistinguishable from what we use today. And then there was the speculum on display (if you’re unfamiliar, I’ll let you look that one up). What’s astonishing is how instantly recognizable the design remains – unchanged, unmistakable, and slightly unsettling across centuries.

Once outside, we wandered past the treatment buildings, stoas, and baths – complete with running water (yes, running water in antiquity). The rain persuaded us to skip the stadium, where athletic contests and healing festivals once took place, as well as some of the temples and altars that anchored daily ritual and worship. Even so, it was impossible not to feel the scale of it all. This entire, thoughtfully designed complex – medicine, faith, fitness, and infrastructure working together – existed for one purpose: honoring Asklepios, the god of medicine.

By this point, the rain was coming down in earnest, so my camera remained in the plastic baggie I brought it in.

Ferry to Hydra

From there, we traded ruins for sea breezes, hopping on a ferry to the idyllic, traffic-free island of Hydra. Arriving, we explored their lovely harbor promenade and settled into island life, mesmerized by the juxtaposition of the huge yachts idling alongside the hard working donkeys that were hauling up luggage from the docks to the various hotels scattered in the marina.

An interesting note about Hydra: there are only two vehicles on the entire island—a fire truck and a garbage truck. Everything else moves by foot, donkey, or boat, preserving Hydra’s timeless, car-free character. We found the fire truck near the harbor as we explored the area.