Epidaurus
So this was the night we caught a boat, drove two hours in a bus, schlepped up a steep hill and came to the ancient theatre of Epidaurus where, along with 14 thousand other people, we sat under a rose gold moon and watched a most violent and visceral production of Electra. I wondered at how much the world has changed since 4000 BC when Greeks sat on the same stone benches watching the same play, but also I wondered at how it has stayed just the same.
At the end I felt the sick taste of bile entering my soul and recognised that distinct horror as something I’d felt once before, as a teenager watching Electra at the Market Theatre about a hundred years ago: so different is our world and so much the same.