Sitting on the Giza plateau, in the butter-light of sunset, I was asked by Mahmoud (owner of a camel called Michael Jordan) which was my second favourite of all of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.
Of course, the Great Pyramid of Giza (a renewed Insta hit now that a family of dogs has made it their skyscraper home) wins top slot hands down: its intricate chambers and shafts were originally coated in a polished limestone so bright it would have burned like silver in the desert.
But as we sat there together eating crumbly falafel, I confessed that probably the least well known of the Seven Ancient Wonders is my personal wonder of wonders. The great Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, an idyllic sanctuary on the western coast of what is now Turkey, was dedicated to that ferocious and feisty goddess Artemis (Diana in the Roman pantheon). A sublime ruler of mountains and nature, of the hunt, hunters and the hunted, Artemis – whose body was decorated with carvings of bees and strange monsters, or what could be breasts or bulls’ testicles or sacks of honey – was queen of a temple of compassion.
Whenever I visit the remains of this gargantuan, stone holy house, I’m reminded that it’s an inspiration for the countless Greek and Roman temples that followed. This wonder was twice the size of the Parthenon temple in Athens and was mimicked from Olympia to Sicily.
The Lydian king Croesus, whose wealth was so remarkable we still talk about his riches today, wrapped the Temple of Artemis’ finely carved inner columns with pure gold. Gorgeous bronze statues and images of Amazon female fighters (some said it was the legendary Amazons who laid the foundation stones) decorated the upper storeys and sanctuary precinct.
For some, the first impression of the site today can be a little disappointing: where originally there was a forest of stone, only one column remains standing. Hawkers sell overpriced, plastic replicas of the original temple. And the fine masonry has been felled by earthquakes, hidden by reeds or taken to museums in the west.
But you have to imagine this place in its heyday. A sanctuary in the true sense of the word, where refugees could seek asylia (the root of the word asylum) and the protection of the goddess. Even Cleopatra’s sister came here while fleeing her wily, ambitious sibling (but was then pulled out and murdered on the temple’s steps).
I also love Artemis’s earthly home at Ephesus because this temple has deeper roots in Turkey. The Artemis worshipped here was an eastern nature goddess, not the wafty creature that would come to decorate Roman villas and vases.
And now excavations in the south-east, close to the Syrian border, are discovering what could have been Artemis’ many times great divine grandmothers. In the fertile crescent between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, archaeologists are uncovering an astonishing 11,000-year-old site, called Karahantepe, which appears to be a cross between one of the world’s first proto-cities and a giant festival hang-out. So far only 1% has been excavated and the finds are astonishing. An oval chamber of huge stone phalluses is overlooked by a fabulously moustachioed male face with the body of a snake. We expect to find the female equivalent any day.
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The last time I visited Karahantepe was soon before the devastating earthquake of 6 February 2023. Half of the buildings in Şanlıurfa collapsed. Objects from the museum there were swirled through rooms by floods. Yet despite all the carnage, local students and archaeologists rushed to save artefacts and ancient buildings. Protecting the genius creations of the past was a priority. Because we are hardwired for wonder. Wonder unites us as a species. It proves we can collaborate to achieve incredible things beyond our potential as individuals. We want to join together to make, and then to share stories of the biggest, the best, the most beautiful, the most awe-inspiring works that we have put on this planet of ours.
Standing on the plains of Anatolia, overlooking both the sites of Karahantepe and the footprint of Artemis’ great temple, I’m always struck by how many debates, and “eureka” moments would have been shared by visionaries who strived to generate wonders for their present and our future. Wonders such as the Temple of Artemis and Karahantepe that we still marvel at today.
Bettany Hughes is author of The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, published by W&N (£25), available for £22.50 at guardianbookshop.com
