As I walked along the piers of Piraeus, I heard the coins of Athens tinkle from one corner to the other of the small and large inns, where the owners were contending for the merchants to gladden their breaks after long journeys. Small and round, they didnât fear the comparison with other coins minted in that period: Athenaâs head on one side and the owl with olive branch on the other were so characteristic that they couldnât be confused. That coin was the symbol of a city built to honour the goddess of wisdom, who protected both art and science at the same time. A question began to form inside me, without a reply that could satisfy my curiosity: was the songs of the Muses or the intuition of philosophers to have more importance for this city and for what would have been the future of the world?
I was forgetting, wandering among my thoughts lost in the smells of merchandise for sale, to visit a friend of mine who tried to make both ends meet between Piraeus and Athens. The day for him never ended. He now unloaded the goods from the ships, and then obtained to pack the wool to be sold to the wealthy Etruscan traders, so he managed the mules and packhorses that were loaded with grain and leathers almost nearby the Acropolis. His name was Timofilo; he didnât have a family, but he hoped one day his energy and improvisation would have got on him in the world.
«Ghignos, finally you came, I thought you wouldnât find the right ship».
«You already know that my journey doesnât have a port of arrival decided before departure, I donât know if this is good or bad. Ever since I started my journey, I have left my ship with loose sails just being cautious to where the wind takes me, always looking around».