Fancy a game of marbles, anyone?

The magnificent Parthenon atop the acropolis

Subtitled: how one can change one's mind.

I recall a rather heated exchange with a good Greek friend of mine - and you'll see why his nationality is important in a moment - about repatriation of artefacts and the like that are in museums around the world - as opposed to being "at home".  It ended acrimoniously, sadly, and we both vowed never to raise it again.

When two positions are so far apart it would seem there can be no common ground - the fact that I'd never really researched some of the points I had entrenched views on, didn't seem to matter to me too much.

We were of course, if you haven't worked it out yet, arguing about what the British call the Elgin marbles and what the Greeks tend to call the Parthenon marbles.  I took the position (as perhaps a majority of Brits do) that what happened under the Empire and sense of entitlement is not really our guilt problem and if the "booty" is on view for all the world to see in London, then please feel free to come and visit - but don't expect us to return any of it.

I think for most of what's been "ex-patriated", if I can use that phrase, I would still maintain there is very little benefit to either the original "home" or the new one to move everything back to where it was pilfered from.  I see one of the great benefits of the momentous museums around the world is allowing thousands and thousand of people access to great pieces of history in a safe and protected environment - think British Musuem, Le Louvre, The Hermitage.  

So, as I was in Athens just last week for a birthday celebration over the sea in idyllic Mykonos, I naturally clambered up the acropolis and took an obligatory selfie just on the front door step, as it were, of the Parthenon itself.

Me and the Parthenon - best of friends.

I must confess (perhaps with all major monuments one sees on the telly and in books) the actual temple site was a incy-wincy bit disappointing in terms of its impressiveness.   That said, just look at these pics:

The columns of the Parthenon - and a 21st century crane.

Columns restored after many an incident rendered the whole temple area a bit of a "bomb-site".

After the site tour, we skipped down (at a rather more speedy pace, unsurprisingly, than how we'd gone up) towards the (relatively) newly-built Acropolis Museum.  I was a tad anxious; what would I see; how would it affect my opinions; what is all the fuss about?

Tickets procured, auto-barriers passed, we entered a huge lobby full of pottery artefacts, exhibits and statues; the museum is a glass and steel monument to all things Parthenon.  I hadn't realised, I suppose, that even up atop the acropolis, that all the original statues and friezes had been transported down the hill and replaced with very good replicas.  

Indeed the marvellous female statues here, are not the originals, but they are in the museum below - which didn't, sadly, allow any photos - so don't have any of what was inside.

The statues holding up the Erechtheion - which is a bit ironic - but named after a King and nothing untoward.

There were six of these originally and in the museum (pictured below) you see 5 statues in various states of wear and tear.  The sixth plinth is empty and a tag advises you the missing lady is sojourning in the British Museum.  This was not to be the case for other missing items. 

So as I ventured onto the 3rd floor and a life-size representation of the Parthenon "roof" if I may call it that, is quite different.  The frieze and metopes are there in full splendour.  I turned right out of the lobby area to find the first 1/8 of the frieze and about 90% of this was original marble - in situ and intact.  The remainder was of cast material with notes showing which institution had current ownership.  The British Museum being abbreviated to BM.

I'm there, thinking the Elgin marbles fuss over 10%, really?

I turn the corner to see the west (I think) projection and my jaw drops when I see not 90% marble in place, but 90% plaster and the next corner the same and the next and the next.  The amount of "missing" marble replaced with accurate casts of the same was astonishing.  This wasn't taking into account the great statues missing from the "gables" - huge representations hewn from marble of Greek gods and heroes - absent.

The new (rather amazing) Acropolis Museum - Athens

I realised I'd come to a very slow pace; I was almost wanting to sit down and gape - but the museum-Nazis made sure you didn't sit, slouch, lean or touch anything you weren't supposed to.

So I slowly but surely completed the circuit and headed downstairs for a sobering glass of Greek wine.

I think of myself as being quite resolute in most things - most opinions.  But I must admit, my mind has been changed at seeing just how much was confiscated from one of the most famous hills in the world.  Whether Lord Elgin had permission to take, contractually, whether he should have taken what he did or not, whether the marbles left on that hillside would have eroded or been lost to theft and destruction is perhaps not important now - although I do believe they have been preserved better in the "BM" than they might have been up there amidst a country's strife - and we know Greece has had its fair share of 20th century (and 21st for that matter) strife.

That said, I think the time is right to open the dialogue on "sharing" the treasure.  Should we rotate the treasures and exchange what the Greek museums can offer?  Absolutely.  Should we perhaps think about long term loan - as the Vatican has done?  Certainly.  Could we set a precedent for more open sharing amongst the great museums of the world and allow even more people access to the greatest remnants of history?  Definitely.

I didn't think my mind would be changed before I went to Athens - but it was - and simply because of the scale of the "light-fingered-ness".

Book yourself a flight to Athens and challenge your own views...!

But perhaps the best thing about all this, is I can now revisit the taboo topic with my good friend and we will find that common ground that eluded us.