by David McGuffin

I’ve been leading tours to Greece for years now, and I’ve found most travelers pack their itineraries with Athens and the islands—and don’t get me wrong, those are must-sees. But if you want to experience something truly special, something that’ll stick with you long after you’ve unpacked your suitcase back home, you need to make the trek to Bassae.

 

The Temple of Apollo Epicurius sits high up in the Peloponnese mountains at about 3,700 feet, perched on a remote mountainside that feels like the edge of the world. Getting there isn’t exactly a hop, skip, and jump—you’re looking at about an hour’s drive from the nearest town through winding mountain roads. But trust me, that journey is part of what makes this place so remarkable. When you finally arrive and see this ancient temple standing against the rugged Arcadian landscape, it hits you. This is what the ancient Greeks were all about—reaching for the divine in the most awe-inspiring places they could find.

 

Here’s what makes Bassae extraordinary. First, it’s one of the best-preserved Greek temples you’ll see anywhere, right up there with the Hephaisteion in Athens. The locals built it back in the 5th century BC, probably designed by Ictinus—yes, the same architect who worked on the Parthenon. They dedicated it to Apollo Epicurius, which means Apollo the Helper, supposedly after he protected them from a plague. And get this: unlike most Greek temples that face east-west, this one runs north-south. Some say it’s because of the steep terrain, others think it is aligned with an older temple on the site. Either way, it’s different, and different is good when you’re exploring ancient Greece.

 

Now, I won’t sugarcoat it—the temple is currently covered with a protective tent structure. It’s not the most photogenic thing you’ve ever seen (from afar). They shrouded the temple to prevent further weathering and decay, but the tent detracts from that “ancient ruins in the mountains” aesthetic we all love. The beautiful sculptural frieze that once decorated the interior—showing battles between Greeks and Amazons, and Lapiths and Centaurs—was carted off to the British Museum back in the day. I’ve seen those in London, as well, but that’s a whole other conversation, and one the Greeks aren’t too happy about.

 

But here’s the thing. Even with the tent and without the original sculptures, standing at Bassae is an experience you can’t get at the more famous sites. The remoteness that kept this temple remarkably intact for over two millennia is the same quality that makes visiting it feel like a genuine discovery. You’re not battling crowds or tour buses. Instead, you’re surrounded by wild, windswept mountains with views stretching across untamed valleys. That isolation lets you really feel what those ancient worshippers must have felt when they climbed up here to honor Apollo.

 

I can only bring my friends here when I’m driving with 4-6 people.  But when we get here, they always tell me Bassae was one of the tour’s highlights. It’s authentic. It’s dramatic. And it reminds you that the best travel experiences aren’t always the ones in the guidebooks—sometimes they’re the ones that take a little extra effort to reach.
1977 Lunch in Rome on flight layover to Athens