With the gods on Mount Olympus
From the Mail on Sunday
The encouraging thing about the ancient Greek gods is that they were all so badly behaved.
Lustful, jealous, petulant and mischievous, they reflected all too accurately the failings of their mortal worshippers.
And, if Robert Graves's classical scholarship is to be believed, all that ambrosia was not mere honey wine but amanita muscaria: Zeus and his fellow immortals spent half their time on Mount Olympus stoned on hallucinogenic mushrooms.
Magic mushrooms notwithstanding, I was tempted by the idea of a quick jaunt in the throne room of Greece's flawed gods, to ponder my own human frailty.
My fellow climber Mark Jenkins had just smashed his shoulder in a 40mph mountain bike accident at home in Wyoming.
Keen to combine therapy with a trip to Europe, he suggested that Mount Olympus, virtually climbable without the use of arms, would be good for convalescence.
I was enrolled on the strength of various fractures from past climbing accidents.
A pair of old crocks, cursed with delusions of immortality, we would hobble to the highest, holiest summit in Greece.
On the flight north from Athens remnants of winter snow were clearly visible in an aerial preview of Olympus, before I descended to meet Mark at Thessaloniki.
From there we drove through the coastal plain of Thessaly to the Olympic Wings outdoor centre at Panteleimonas, run by Stelios, Sakis and Claudia.
All sorts of activities were on offer.
Travel Guide: Greece