For the past three years in a row, I've woken up in Delphi and looked at the ruins of the temple of Apollo, and of the temple of Athena Pronaos, and happily stared at the statue of the bronze charioteer. I can picture all of it -- it was worth it to do the dorky tourist thing and take a gazillion photos (I also am glad, starting with the second trip, I took lots more photos with my students in them, to remember them by.)
Each trip was great, though last year's visit to Delphi was tinged by a text from Jim the night before, that Charlie had gotten extremely upset on a trip to ride bikes at the beach and my mother had to go to the ER for stitches.
I miss seeing friends and being in Greece. I'm glad to be right here sitting at my desk in New Jersey sunlight, remembering, after seeing Charlie off on the bus, after a good weekend (despite grandparent angst) with lots of bike riding in weather that is becoming truly spring-like. I've got a manuscript to review as well as a reissued edition of Richmond Lattimore's Iliad translation and a fair pile of books about Greek poetry and literature and the Acropolis to read. I've memorized 21 lines of the Odyssey and one of the Iliad and repeat them in my mind throughout the day.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ ἔτος ἦλθε περιπλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν,
τῷ οἱ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι
Very loose translation:
But when the year came as the seasons rolled round
in which the gods had said he should go home