We know that ancient
peoples travelled vast distances. The Vikings travelled west to Greenland, then
Newfoundland, and east and south down the Volga to the Black Sea. The
Phoenicians, Egyptians and Minoans travelled the length of the Mediterranean
then through the Pillars of Hercules and beyond. The Phoenicians sailed north
to England, the Egyptians sailed south along the African coast and, according
to at least one American TV program, the Minoans not only crossed the Atlantic
to North America, but actually made it to the west end of Lake Superior. Which
would have been quite a journey considering that the Saint Laurence Seaway
wasn’t built until a couple of thousand years later.
The Inca walked the
length of South America. Polynesians sailed all over the Pacific. In later
years the Irish, then the Basques sailed across the Atlantic looking for fish,
the Arabs sailed and traded across the Indian Ocean, a Chinese expedition
sailed round the world, Marco Polo rode the length of Asia, and the Jesuits
went everywhere they could, hoping they would find people to believe their stories.
That is what we know,
but what can we speculate? Was there a chronicler on every journey to ensure its
adventures, trials, and triumphs would be known to later generations? It’s
unlikely. What exploits were never recorded and remain unknown? That’s where we
can find our stories. Don’t underestimate your neighbor’s ancestors.
What if a Viking ship
headed south along the American East Coast? Perhaps they made it to the
Caribbean and stayed. Perhaps they just liked the weather, or perhaps their
ship ran aground on an island during a hurricane and the captain fell for a
dusky Caribbean maiden who sheltered them. Perhaps they turned east across the
Gulf of Mexico and ended up meeting the Maya or the Aztecs. Vikings travelling
to Tenochtitlan. Now, there’s a story.
Or the Vikings sailed
out of the Black Sea and reached Egypt. Having dragged huge stones across the
desert to build the pyramids many centuries earlier, the Egyptians knew how to haul
things across the sand and would have had the Viking longboats in the Red Sea
before you could say ‘build us a canal Monsieur de Lesseps.” Then where would
they have gone? Africa, India, Australia, or farther. Surely there is a story
there. Check the tales of the Arabian Nights for blond warriors. Sinbad and the
Vikings, maybe.
Who might have visited
Mount Kailas, the navel of the world? Alexander the Great, Marco Polo, the
Jesuit Priests.
In his novel, Creation,
Gore Vidal’s protagonist travels from Greece to China, meeting the famous men
of his day. Each incident in this tale could have produced a story itself.
And,
of course, there is Atlantis, Mu, Lemuria, or Doggerland with its mammoths. Each
of these lost continents could have stories of visitors, or stories of their
own heroes and villains.
And
as continental drift continues to separate Europe and Africa to the east from
the Americas to the west, what tales could there be of seismic cataclysms. But
please, no dystopian stories, we need optimism in today’s world.
Or just go nuts.
Inuit in the Sahara. Axumites (ancient Ethiopians) sailing up the Amazon.
Tibetan monks in New Zealand. Crusaders visiting Great Zimbabwe. Apaches at the
court of Charlemagne. Tall Maasai stepping onto the Antarctic ice shelf. And so
forth. There are no limits.