I Begin My Testimony.

 The first twenty years.

After clarifying what I believe in the Christian faith, and then giving a brief history of the Children of God movement, it's now time to begin with my testimony. I hope that within it, in the next few weeks, I will be able to highlight some Bible teachings that are directly relevant to my life experiences.

I wrote a similar life biography on the 11th June, 2022, which is connected to Travel, and at the bottom of this page, I have provided a link to that blog post. However, both start with the same beginning: I was born at Westminster Hospital, London, on September 16th, 1952, to Italian parents, Gaetano and Laura Blasi. As a baby, I was baptised at the baptistry in Westminster Cathedral, the spiritual home of the Catholic Cardinal of the UK, although it was most likely done by one of his priestly assistants.

According to Mum, during the baptismal ceremony, I was crying loudly, as if I was unwilling to be a Roman Catholic. This contrasted with the baptism of my atheistic brother, Robert, born over six years later, who slept peacefully through the ceremony.

As a baby in Pimlico, London.

Around 3 years old.

As I grew up in Pimlico, I became aware of the existence of Heaven and Hell. But the afterlife, according to Mum, was based entirely on my behaviour. If I were good, I would go up to Heaven in the sky. But if I were bad, then I would go down to Hell, as I imagined, some underground land where bonfires burned here and there. However, around the age of ten, I was told by Mum about Jesus Christ and how good he was. Nothing to do with his Saviourhood, rather a yardstick to measure my behaviour.

Yet, I recall that afternoon. I wanted to know this Jesus Christ. But did he want to know me? I knew that Jesus would want me to be good. Instead, I had thoughts and emotions which were self-centred, even to the discomfort and ill-treatment of others. However, I settled on one truth: Jesus Christ is God incarnate. Gradually, I developed in my subconscious that God was a heavenly reflection of my Dad, who was an agnostic, and administered smacking with his hand at every misdemeanour. This included only wanting something whenever I showed Dad some affection.

You see, when Mum was still carrying me, he was hoping for a daughter who would learn fast and go to University. Instead, a son was born who was diagnosed by a professional as a slow learner, and I didn't begin to speak English until I was five. Although I had to go to a special school for slow-learning children, actually, I was becoming good at reading, writing and arithmetic, even sent by the teacher to show others in the classroom to read more difficult words. Yet, despite my progress at school, at home, I was compared unfavourably with the neighbour's children.

We moved to Bracknell from Pimlico during the autumn of 1963, then aged eleven, and my brother was four. Bracknell was built under the 1946 New Town scheme to relocate Londoners from the city to a self-contained community. Instead of all four of us sleeping in one bedroom, we now had our own rooms.

At age 13, I took the First Communion, also known as the Eucharist, at St Joseph Catholic Church in our hometown of Bracknell. There was a course held at St Joseph's Junior School, with Mr Shaw, the headmaster, leading the course. We learned much about how Jesus was crucified and rose again on the third day, and the host, about the size of the modern 2p coin, literally contained the body and blood of Jesus Christ (known as Transubstantiation). We also learned to go and confess our sins to a priest at least once a year, and do penance as set out by the priest. Missing Mass (the Eucharist) without a proper reason was considered a major sin and the loss of God's grace. In the class, there were just three of us. A girl of my age, named Christine, and another boy besides me. But the boy dropped out mid-course. After that, there was just Christine and me.

The Sunday I took my first communion, we dressed in our Sunday best. During the post-service photo session, Christine stood with us, dressed in a bride's dress. Posing together with Mum, Dad, and my brother Robert, we looked as if Christine and I had just married.

Family and a guest posed at the church.

A year or so later, I had to go through Confirmation. This ritual required a sponsor, my godfather Quirino Alfred Blasi, known by us as Uncle Fred. He was Dad's older brother with a military mentality, as he was a Warrant Officer in the British Royal Air Force. He carried a chip on his shoulder. As an Italian, due to nationality regulations, he was denied any promotion he felt eligible for.

Uncle was very particular about smart dress, and probably considered blasphemous to attend church dressed in casuals. So, that Sunday, I, along with a group of other children, was confirmed by the Bishop. This was supposed to empower me with the Holy Spirit for godly living, after Acts chapter 2, but without the fanfare the apostles had.

Uncle's strictness in smart dress wasn't confined to church attendance. One ordinary Saturday morning, while Uncle and his childless wife, Elizabeth, were staying with us, I slipped out, casually dressed, to the shops, about a twenty-minute walk from our house. After I returned, Uncle was waiting for me. He then gave me a severe telling off for leaving the house without a tie and being improperly dressed. That occasion was his only chance. His rebuke took place in my parent's absense.

He was also particular about my hairstyle. It had to be short back-and-sides in accordance with military regulations. On another occasion, when he visited us, my hair had grown slightly longer than normal. He then criticised Dad for showing neglect towards my upkeep. My brother also recalls one Christmas morning. The roof of one of his brand-new train set carriages came off intact. Uncle saw this, and, in ire, asked how his nephew could be so careless so soon. Luckily, the plastic roof was clicked back into place by another family member. As Robert said to me just this Christmas gone, Uncle had no idea how to handle children.

Uncle made sure that I was smartly dressed at weekends.

Uncle and Aunt were posted abroad, at an RAF base in Bahrain, and for a few years, we were free from their presence. By the time they reappeared, I was of age and no longer subjected to their authority. When I was preparing to fly out to Israel in 1976, Uncle asked if he could accompany me. I firmly said, "No, not at all!" It was years later when I realised that, had I said, "Yes, come with me." He would pause for a day or two, then approach me with an apologetic tone, saying he couldn't make the trip after all. That would have been his way to test how I felt towards him.

Within the two remaining years at school, our new Deputy Head, Mr Chapman, wielded his cane rather liberally. I have seen pupils caned across the palm of the hand for simply talking during morning assembly. The cane was also administered for not having a hymnbook during the singing. The service was based on the Church of England liturgy. With this "Heaven by works" ethic, both at school and at home, my growing dislike of God was expressed with my denial of his existence. I turned atheist, along with some other boys.

And here's the point. There is no such thing as atheism. During that time, although I said that God doesn't exist, in my heart I knew better, as God shines his light into every man born into the world (John 1: 9). The real truth was, if my father, his older brother, and particularly Mr Chapman, all represented God's character, then hating him was inevitable.

Entering the World of Work.

I left school in 1968 without any qualifications. Back then, this was relatively normal. In Bracknell, the Western and the Eastern industrial estates offered plenty of jobs in manufacturing, and after leaving school, the following Monday morning, I took up my post at A.G. Clarke and Sons, a family-owned business which went out of existence by the mid-1980s. Bill Ryder was the foreman in the wood finishing department of a workplace that specialised in period furniture. These are the furniture which normally finds its way into mansions and larger homes. Four other employees worked in this department: Alf, Walter, Ken, and Ray, all of them older than I was.

My first task of the day was to sweep the floor. This became habitual for the next three years of the five years I worked there. As this was an all-male environment, Alfie, who fought in the Second World War and witnessed the deaths of his close friends and colleagues, spewed out sexual smut which would have embarrassed any trooper. By 1973, I left that workshop with a knowledge of every sexual intimacy known. On the other hand, Walter, roughly the same age as Alfie, was much quieter, but he was obsessed with not receiving recognition for his service during the War.

I was verbally bullied by Raymond, who used me to lift his own low self-esteem, and Ken had a terrible habit of pressing a cloth soaked with flammable spirit into my backside, causing a burning pain which lasted up to ten minutes. That was his way of intimidating. He tried the same on another youth, but without realising that the other adolescent had some street fighting experience!

Working at Clarke's was a rough and tough experience, all five years of it (1968-1973). But the experience turned this boy into a man. However, it was compulsory by law that all school leavers attend a day release at college, specifying in the trade. I always looked forward to this weekly day off work to board a train to London, then the tube to Old Street Station, where a short walk along Pitfield Street led me to the London College of Furniture. These trips were the forerunner of a much larger realm of Travel in the years to come. While studying there, I became close friends with Andrew. By 1972, he and I had our first holiday abroad without our parents, at a resort in Spain.

In 1971, I was dating Sandra, who lived in Wimbledon, and I was teased at work for that, and pressing me with the question whether I was having sex with her. She was a little older than I was and wore glasses. But I was too immature for marriage responsibilities, and she eventually realised that. After one year of courtship, I was dumped, and her father closed the front door in my face. That day, I was literally weeping as I sat on the train home.

1972 indeed was a turbulent year. I was dumped by my girlfriend. But it was also the year I picked up a tract at Trafalgar Square. The tract highlighted my sins and the wrath of God. I soon became aware of God's displeasure, and not knowing anything about salvation, I began to do good works in the hope of allaying his wrath.

Approaching my 20th Birthday, 1972.

Then one Saturday evening, December 9th, I approached the Lyceum Ballroom (now a theatre) on Wellington Street, which leads onto Waterloo Bridge, with the hope that I might find a new girlfriend. Instead, the two doormen blocked my entry and ordered me to beat it. Feeling very dejected, I walked along the Strand towards Trafalgar Square in the cold rain.

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Next Week, The Pub on the Strand, London.

For the Travel version of my childhood and adolescence, click here.

A Brief History of a Cult that took hold of me.

An Issue of Baptism Cleared Up.

Last week, while I was laying the groundwork for my upcoming testimony, I set out to distinguish between the Kingdom Gospel and the Gospel of Free Grace, both found in the New Testament of the Bible. A question from one of my readers touched on the believer's baptism, and before I go any further, I wish to clear up any confusion that might have arisen from last week's blog before beginning on the rise of the Children of God cult.

I was baptised as an adult believer in 1975, aged 22, just over two years after initial conversion. I was fully submerged in water at Bracknell Baptist church. The key verse of Scripture used for the occasion was Acts 2:38, which reads, Repent, and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. (KJV). 

When considering two other verses, one spoken by Jesus himself when he said, He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned (Mark 16:16), it seemed that baptism played a role in the remission of sins. The other verse was spoken by Ananias to Saul, soon after his encounter with Jesus Christ. Ananias said, And now why tarriest thou? Arise, and be baptised, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord. (Acts 22:16).

Since Saul (that is, the Apostle Paul) was a Jew from the Tribe of Benjamin, he still preached the Kingdom Gospel, which indicated that Baptism did wash away sins (although some theologians insist that when Peter said, Repent and be baptised...for the remission of sins, he meant, Repent and be baptised because by believing, your sins are already forgiven. The same as, for example, John was awarded a trophy for winning the cross-country footrace.)

Interestingly, the practice of Jewish baptism, although initiated by John the Baptist, looks to have originated from the Law of Moses, that the Jewish priest from the Tribe of Levi must wash by submergence before performing his rites at the temple, as depicted in Leviticus 16:23-24, also 2 Chronicles 4:2 and verse 6. Washing for purification from sins was practised by Jews long before the days of John the Baptist.

Stepping into a Jewish purification bath, Masada, 1993.

So, what I should have added last week was that in this age of Free Grace, baptism does not wash away sins, as it's carried out after conversion. The testimony of Cornelius and his house highlights this. Peter was given "the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven" by Jesus, as recorded in Matthew 16:15-19. The first non-Jews to receive the Gospel were delivered by Peter, thus "unlocking the door to heaven" for the Gentiles. While Peter was still preaching, the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard his words. Then afterwards, Peter baptised all of them. The baptism followed conversion, not preceded it.

I was thinking about the Philippian jailor, a Gentile, who was baptised by Paul after his conversion (Acts 16:30-34). When reading about these conversions, a pattern emerges. Baptism no longer washes away sins. Rather, the believer's baptism is to testify before others that the candidate has already believed and is saved. In short, baptism profits those witnessing it.

David Brandt Berg and the Children of God Movement - A History.

Around 1944, a missionary for teenagers was established by Fred Jordan, who opened the American Soul Clinic and evangelised on TV. He pastored his churches around the USA and opened a ranch in Texas to accommodate campers. He had a close associate whom he met in 1952, David Brandt Berg, who co-pastored Jordan's church and was employed by him. However, in 1967, Jordan fired Berg over a dispute, and at that time, when a group of Berg's followers were camping at Jordan's Texas ranch, they were ordered off his property.

Berg developed a strong dislike of all churches in America, and the fruit of the dispute between Berg and Jordan was seen and felt among his followers, even if his newer recruits were unaware of the original dispute. This was the reason why COG members used only the KJV under Berg's orders. There is one word found in this version of the Bible which most modern versions don't have. It's in Hosea 8:14:

For Israel hath forgotten its Maker, and buildeth temples; and Judah hath multiplied fenced cities; but I will send a fire upon his cities, and it shall devour the palaces thereof.

To David Berg, all the church buildings in the Western world stand condemned by God, especially in the United States. After all, a temple is a place of worship, is it not? This is the dispute the leader of COG had with Fred Jordan of the American Soul Clinic. The hostility between the two leaders has percolated throughout the entire cult membership, and every COG member has always spoken against the mainstream church with a high level of disdain.

COG members don't use any other translation of the Bible. In these modern versions, the word Temples is replaced by the word Palaces. Here, the meaning of the verse changes. It's no longer about a place of worship, but a rebuke against the accumulation of wealth without acknowledging the goodness of God. That would have been enough to weaken the fabric of the COG cult.

By 1968, Berg made his way to the Californian coast, in those days, a haven for hippies and social dropouts. Many of these youths were on drugs, and they rejected the mainstream life of work, war, and the impersonal machine society, and focused on an in-depth spiritual experience, a longing to return to the garden where, according to the song, Woodstock (1970), by the band Matthew Southern Comfort, the lyrics contained the lines:

And I dreamed I saw the Bomber.

Riding shotgun in the sky

Turning into Butterflies above our nation.

The garden referred to was the original Garden of Eden, the home of our first parents. David Berg approached a group of these hippies, and indeed, he was able to convince them that he could lead them to their cherished garden by following him and surrendering all to Jesus Christ in the same way the Twelve followed their Lord before his Crucifixion.

Many of these hippies and other young men and women followed Berg, and colonies were set up, where the followers, now disciples, lived together under the banner, Children of God (COG). Many of Berg's followers claimed that they were miraculously delivered from drug addiction, and at last, had a proper purpose in life as a dropout without returning to society, or as Berg referred to, "The System". From each colony, the Children fanned out onto the city streets, always in twos, to approach a potential convert, and invited him to return to see the Family, as they also called themselves, for recruiting. They search for anyone alone and looking dejected, or lacking purpose or direction. Such were sitting targets for new recruits of the Family.

There was one prize star converted to the Children, the lead singer of the band, Fleetwood Mac, Jerry Spencer. While he was lounging around Hollywood Boulevard, he was approached by two of the COG members, and returned to the colony with them.

By 1972, Berg began to take his followers out of the USA and set up colonies around the world, especially in the UK. Other colonies were set up as far away from the USA as Europe and even as far as India. This was due to Berg's belief that the USA was on the brink of demise due to social unrest, such as the 1962 Cuba Crisis, the aftermath of the Vietnam War, and other issues. By this, exiting the States was dubbed "The New Exodus", and David Berg acquired the name Moses, shortened to Mo. This exodus was linked to another pop song, this one by Don McLean, American Pie (1971). Yet, the song had nothing to do with the demise of America, but had to do with the tragic death of singer Buddy Holly in the 1959 plane crash. Despite that, Don McLean's American Pie became the theme song for David Berg's exodus.

David Brandt Berg.

By late 1972, a colony was established at a disused jam factory in Bromley, Kent. Before the COG colony settled there, the canteen was used as a nursery, and lifesize murials decorated the walls.

Each day, each member paired up and boarded a train to London from Bromley North terminus station. They fanned out along the Strand, Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square, and probably Oxford Circus, looking for new recruits to take back to Bromley.

One rainy Saturday night, December 9th, 1972, a sad, 20-year-old young man strolled along the Strand towards Trafalgar Square. His long hair was dripping wet, and he looked dejected as he looked at the wet ground a little way in front. He caught the attention of two young men approaching in the opposite direction.

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Next week, I begin my Testimony.

Setting the Background for my Testimony.

Faith defined. Years of Confusion settled.

As I write this, I have been a Christian believer for 53 years. Since December 1972, the majority of my time as a believer has been apathetic. That means days, even weeks, without praying or reading the Bible. Added to this, I hardly sang in a church service with the enthusiasm shown by others around me. And there were times when I questioned my salvation. And I couldn't understand why.

And in a society in which the culture stemmed from social class distinctions, I suffered from an inferiority complex. That is, a manual worker with little or no formal qualifications in a church which was filled with graduates from universities across the country. They moved into our area to take up employment in high-tech companies that have set up trading in this area, a wedge of land lying between the M3 and the M4 motorways, sometimes referred to as the British Silicon Valley. 

By fellowshipping in a church full of graduates, most of them a little younger than I was, I was also prone to being short-tempered, and on one occasion, I floored a haughty Christian graduate over a disagreement. This isn't meant to be boasting. Rather, this shows my spiritual state, even decades after I first believed. What was the underlying cause of all this?

It is my failure to rightly divide the Word of Truth as Paul instructed in 2 Timothy 2:15.

Divide is the proper translation of the Greek word orthotomounta, which means cutting straight. The word "divide" appears in the King James Version. The version I use most of the time is the New International Version, and the word handle is used. Hence, the KJV conveys the instruction more accurately. When I read about "cutting straight", I pictured a cake sliced into two halves with a knife. Then it's sliced into quarters. Four quarters cut with two straight lines. That is how the Bible should be handled. And so, why didn't I rightly divide the Word of Truth? Because, in all these years, nobody taught me to do that! Yet, even from the very beginning, I was aware of a discrepancy between the four Gospels, especially the first three synoptic Gospels, and Paul's letters to the churches.

The Bible I hold in my hand is divided into three sections: the Old Testament, the Gospel of the Kingdom (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and the first part of Acts). Then there is the Gospel of Free Grace, preached by Paul the apostle in his letters from Romans to Philemon.

The whole of the Old Testament is addressed to Israel, as are the four Gospels, along with the letter to the Hebrews, the letters of James, Peter, and John's letters, and Jude. Although many, especially among Baptist churches, would raise their hands in protest, in the Kingdom Gospel, baptism in water actually did wash away sins. John the Baptist dunked repentant sinners in water, but also pointed to the One who would baptise them in the Holy Spirit. At Pentecost, Peter cried, Repent, and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost (Acts 2:38 KJV).

In Acts 22, we read about Paul standing before a crowd of hostile Jews and talking about his conversion. He said that soon after he was encountered by Jesus in heaven, he received his sight under Anania's prayer, followed by the words, And now why tarriest thou? Arise, and be baptised, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord (Acts 22:16). This was still the Gospel of the Kingdom, given only to Israel.

In Revelation, John wrote to the seven churches existing under Free Grace. Here, he writes, Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood...(1:5). In the Gospel of free grace, we are no longer cleansed by water baptism, but by the shed blood of Christ crucified. And this Gospel is appropriate for all mankind in the present church age, both for Jews and non-Jews.  

So what has been my problem over the years? Simply this, my inability to rightly divide the Word of Truth into departments appropriate to the people, location, and time. The four Gospels were addressed to Israel. Paul's letters to us. My problem was that I mixed the two Gospels, bringing the Kingdom Gospel into the Gospel of Free Grace. Hence, the confusion, even to an extent, of slavery.

In the early years of my faith, I was deeply troubled by what Jesus said to the crowds following him. He said that if anyone does not hate his spouse, parents, his children, and his family siblings, he cannot be his disciple. And if he does not take up his own cross and follow him, he cannot be his disciple... Therefore, whoever does not forsake all that he has, he cannot be his disciple - Luke 14:25-34).

The traditional site of the crucifixion, Jerusalem, 1993.

These verses troubled me for years, and these verses were the reason for questioning my salvation and suffering Bible and prayer blues. This tied well with our subconscious that salvation is to be earned. My subconscious says that yes, Christ died on the cross for little more than to annul the Law of Moses and merely open another way of earning our salvation, and that was take up our own cross and forsake everything, even putting my parents in distress, thus reinforcing what Christ said about the love of family ties placed above our devotion to him.

When Jesus spoke these words, first, he addressed a crowd who saw him, heard him, and touched him. Many were healed by him and followed him around. In short, a physical presence. Following him as a disciple back then was literal. Secondly, they were Jews under the Law of Moses, and the Atonement for sin hadn't yet been made. In Jesus' day, Temple sacrifices were still obligatory.

Yet Jesus cried out,  The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe the Gospel. Mark 1:15. This is the Gospel of the Kingdom. That is, Jesus came in readiness to ascend the throne of his father David in Jerusalem if the nation of Israel accepted him. But, as John writes, He came to his own (Israel), but his own received him not (John 1:11). Therefore, he had to go to the cross, to usher in something which was much better, free grace through faith alone. That is, by believing.

And here is what I consider to be the most important issue: justification by faith underlying the entire Bible. Remember the illustration of the cake cut into sections? Then think of the dish on which the cake sits. The knife cuts the cake, but it's unable to cut the dish beneath it. The dish represents faith, and what I consider to be the most important verse in the entire Bible. 

It is Genesis 15:6. This verse says, Abraham believed the Lord, and he credited him as righteousness.

This verse could be glossed over while reading the narrative, without giving it particular attention. It could easily be missed. But Paul the apostle paid much attention to that verse, devoting a whole chapter of Romans to it, as well as in his letter to the Galatians. James, too, also quotes it in his letter.

Credited righteousness. That is God's righteousness imputed to the believer's account. And this imputation held true throughout history, from Adam to the end of the age. This is the dish that cannot be cut into sections like the cake on it.

In the Kingdom Gospel, baptism was by water to wash away our sins, and one had to endure to the end to be saved. But in this present age, the Church Age, our sins are washed away, at the moment of believing, by the blood of Jesus crucified. Hence, everyone who believes that:

Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures,

Was buried,

And rose again from the dead on the third day according to the Scriptures (1 Corinthians 15:3-4)...

The believer receives eternal life. This life is eternal, and cannot be taken away or forfeited. The shed blood of Jesus washes away all sins, past, present and future, and his resurrection from the dead guarantees eternal life given as a free gift. The believer is forever accepted into the family of God and is made equally righteous in the Father's sight as the Son himself.

We all sinned and come short of the glory of God, and deserve the penalty, eternal separation from God in hell.

Jesus Christ, who was sinless, went to the cross to pay the penalty in our stead. He became sin so we could become his righteousness. 

Everyone who believes is instantly washed from his sins by his shed blood. 

At that moment, he receives the new man who is incapable of sinning. This is the new birth.

However, his flesh still sins after he is saved. Hence, flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God; instead, it dies and ends up in the grave. 

The believer is adopted into the family of God, and his sonship is eternal.

At the Rapture, the believer will receive a new and glorious body and forever be with the Lord.

Salvation cannot be earned. It's a free gift. This is not to be confused with service, which merits rewards.

Eternal life is not a reward. It is a free gift given to everyone who believes.

No work can ever merit heaven. Salvation is a gift bought by the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ.

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Next week, the cult which freed and then enslaved me.

Travel Biography Photo Extravaganza - Part 58.

How the Greek Island of Kos has set the standard for modern life and health. 

Last week, while posting the second half of our 2006 trip to Lanzarote in the Canaries, I was considering whether to make that the last of my Travel Biography and Extravaganza, and I even asked whether you would like to give your opinion.

On the comments, I received two. The first was from my beloved, who was keen for me to keep on posting our travel pics. The other was from a good Blogger friend who encouraged me to revert to my posts centred more on the Christian faith, as she was edified by what I have written and posted in the past.

However, one evening this week, I was driven home from a meeting by a good friend, one of the elders in our church who graduated from University, having studied ancient civilisations. This included a college trip to Naples to visit the excavations of Pompeii. As we talked in his car, the idea of posting photos of the ancient ruins in Kos came to mind, and I decided to go ahead and publish them. However, this will be the last of all the Extravaganza photos, as next week I wish to start on my testimony. If you think that I am just another middle-class graduate who grew up in a Christian home (yawn!), you have another think coming! Rather, my conversion story is more dramatic.

This week is the final of the Extravaganza. It's from the album of our 12th Wedding Anniversary in the Greek island of Kos, one of the Dodecanese. We flew there for a week in 2011 for a single-venue celebratory holiday. As such, it wasn't included in the main Biography, as it wasn't a backpacking trip. But for anyone interested in archaeology and ancient civilisations, Kos has much to offer. That was why I went ahead and published the photos I took of the sites while we were there.

There were three sites we visited. The first was the Agora, or the market, dating back to the 4th Century BC. The earthquake in 1933 turned the site into one resembling a scrapyard, but its entry is free to the public. Here, Alex and I wandered around at our free will.

The second was the Asklepion (also spelt as Asclepieion). This is the combined Temple of Healing and a hospital. It was the original source of modern medicine, and it was where the famous Greek physician, Hippocrates, treated his patients by administering herbs with healing properties as well as housing in-patients in wards, as does any present hospital. The site also had a Temple for patients with terminal illnesses to find peace with their deities before passing on. Hippocrates brought into being his Oath, known as the Hippocratic Oath, sworn by graduates into the medical profession to this day. In addition to all this, many psychologists credit the theory of the four humours to Hippocrates, who erroniously believed that each of the four temperaments was governed by one of the four body fluids. These were Blood, Yellow Bile (both extrovert), Black Bile, and Phlegm (both introvert). When considering all of these, I could help but believe that the Asklepion was the most important ancient site I have ever visited.

There are actually seven restored Roman columns.

Near the harbour is an ancient tree, still living, which legends say that Hippocates taught his students under its shade. For its protection, it's now within an enclosure.

The third site we visited was the Gymnasium. This is the proper Greek word for the exercise yard. The abbreviated version, the gym, is in the English language. However, the Romans called it the Palaestra in their Latin, and it was the word widely used throughout the Roman Empire, but never found its way into English. Among these ruins, there is a well-preserved Mosaic floor of Roman origin.

A few night photos are included. This includes the alfresco restaurant, where we dined on the evening of our anniversary before taking a stroll along the esplanade that circles the harbour. Our table was by the wall which separated us from the sea. As we dined, the waves lapped gently against the wall. It was the most romantic night I have known.

One morning, we decided to hire a bicycle each and ride along the main road to the Thermae. From our hotel, the distance was approximately 10 km or 6 miles. The coastline of the city of Kos faces Turkey, and the resort of Bodrum can be seen, with its white houses standing out clearly. However, during our ride out, the road turned in a different direction, and we were able to see the majestic mountains of Yarimadasi, a long, slender peninsula jutting out from the western coast of Turkey into the Aegean Sea. Eventually, we passed through the village of Ag Fokas on the southeast coast, and the main road narrowed into a footpath on the clifftop until we arrived at some steps leading to the pebble beach. Along the beach we walked, having locked up our bikes, until we arrived at the thermae.

The thermae is an artificial pool, or a miniature lagoon, holding hot water from a spring which issues from the cliff wall. The water was too hot by the cliff face, so we bathed at the far side. A breach in the enclosing wall allowed the warm water escape into the sea. In the middle of the pool, volcanic gas bubbles rose to the surface. Both Alex and I bathed in the spa before drying off by sunbathing.

As already mentioned, this is the final photo posting of this Extravaganza. Like with Lanzarote, there is no link to the main Biography. But for a while, I thought about writing my testimony, after giving it verbally at a church meeting exactly a year ago, and the audience wanted to hear more. It's not likely that I will get it all in just one week. At this point, I can't say how many weeks it would take, two, maybe three.

Also, to say that between the Biography and the Extravaganza, it took around three years to cover the entire travel section of my Blogger page. During that time, it is estimated that it has collected as many as 500,000 views, far more than all the Christian contemporary blogs I have written before starting on Travel. Furthermore, the writing of the Biography wasn't my original idea, but the result of suggestions posted by my readers.

Therefore, by returning to the original intention of writing, a fall in viewership numbers would not surprise me. However, one lesson I have learned is not to make my blogs too long. I was told several times that my previous long text had put readers off. Therefore, I feel it would be better for me to write in a series of short blogs rather than cram too much in a long one. However, one thing is guaranteed: that my entire Travel Biography and Photo Extravaganza are permanent features here. With the Index between the two, one can link a week's posting of the Extravaganza to the appropriate week of the Biography.

Finally, let me say a big thank you for your participation in this project. It's greatly appreciated!

You can access the Index by clicking here.

Photos of Kos. Photos of the Agora Archaeological Site.

The Agora, Kos, looks more like a junkyard.

Restored Columns.

These columns are original.

These were tidied up after the 1933 earthquake.

Not too crowded here.

A close-up of a stone detail.

General view of the Agora archaeological site.

Fragment of a Mosaic floor.

Remains of the Temple of Hercules.

Looking across the Arora site.

Looking at masonry dating back to 400-500 BC.

We celebrated our 12th Wedding Anniversary in 2011.

We dined at a seaside Restaurant.

We then strolled along the harbour esplanade.

Looking back at the nighttime city.

Photos of the Asklepion.

Approaching the Asklepion site.

The site has three levels. This is the lower one.

Remains of temple columns, level 2. 

Close up of the columns.

On level 3 was the temple for the terminally ill.

Looking down to level 2, which was the hospital.

Left over of a temple column.

From level 3, looking across the sea towards Turkey.

The restored seven pillars on level 2.

The same pillars as seen from level 3.

Remains of the wards, level 2.

Hospital wards.

I pose next to some masonry.

The bathing pool is to the right.

 Looking across the Asklepion towards Turkey.

This tree, legends say, provided shade for Hippocrates.

The Thermae

On the beach approaching the thermae.

The hot spa or lagoon.

View of the thermae from the cliff.

The source of the hot water is from the base of the cliff.

Gas bubbles up from deep below.

I relax in the hot water.

The Greek/Roman Gymnasium.

Part of the main gymnasium structure.

Alex by the Roman Mosaic floor.

Detail of the Mosaic floor.

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Next Week, I'll start on my testimony.