A Journey to the Greek Underworld

Hey time travelers, Lily here. This is probably the vacation destination you have the least interest in putting on your bucket list. Souls go through a long and bureaucratic path to get here. Today, I'm going to be your guide on this private tour of the underworld of Greek mythology. The checkout process of life involves judges, memories, and a mandatory toll. The journey to the underworld begins where everything ends, at a funeral. And I'm here in Sparta, at the funeral of a legendary king. Everyone is so serious, so disciplined. A bit too much for my taste. They could at least be passing around some appetizers. The king looks like he left a long time ago. I think I'd better find a way to leave for the underworld too. Let's see if they can handle a dose of truth. You know, guys are actually pretty good warriors, it's true. But honestly, you don't hold a candle to the Persian warriors. Now those guys really knew how to win a war. Ouch, my jaw. Definitely, I could have found a less painful way to get here. Well, at least my ride is already waiting there on the riverbank. Shall we take a look around this place? They already told me he doesn't accept cards. Where I come from, that's a total tax evasion move. With him, it's the classic method, a coin under the tongue. I'm out of change today, do you accept Apple Pay? Old Charon ended up accepting a trade, a stories and a short in exchange for the fare. That's the perk of being an influencer. But seriously, what is up with this ferry, guys? This wouldn't pass a fire department safety inspection anywhere. Now, let's go through security. And what security? Here we have Cerberus, the three-headed dog guarding the entrance gate. I tried to pet him because, you know, who can resist a puppy? Three heads mean three times the cuteness, but also three times the licks. But make no mistake, he might even be friendly on the way in, but once you cross those gates, he won't let you go back under any circumstances. I think I'd better keep moving forward. We have officially entered the bureaucratic area of the underworld. The feeling is like being in a line at a government office that isn't moving because the system crashed. It's an eternal bureaucracy. I've been in airport lines during the holidays, but nothing, nothing compares to the Tribunal of Shadows. Here we have Minos, Eakus, and Radamanthus. They are the judges who decide where each soul will spend eternity. It's a public office on a cosmic scale. You die, think you're finally gonna rest, and find out you have to face a full audit of every mistake you've made since you were five years old. If you're the type who panics when you see a notification from the IRS, this will be your worst nightmare. There, I got my visitor's visa. Let's get out of here quickly, because this climate of constant judgment is giving me anxiety. Okay, okay, now we're talking. We drastically changed scenery. We left the government office and entered what they call the Elysian Fields. It's basically the VIP sector, the all-inclusive of the afterlife. People just walk around, happy, with the expression of someone who took a long-acting sedative. I tried to strike up a conversation with an ancient hero, asked him about his battles, and he just smiled and pointed to a fruit tree. You know that resort where you pay a fortune, get free food, but there's no one interesting to talk to, just some old ladies playing bridge, and nothing exciting happens? That's here. But guys, it's way too quiet and boring. Happiness here is so static that after 10 minutes, you start missing having a problem to solve, and the worst part is there's not even a Wi-Fi signal. I even miss my mom calling to tell me her phone has a problem. Living in paradise must be an absolute bore. They told me I need a reality check, so now let's head to the opposite of paradise, the Tartarus. The lighting here is, well, red. Very reddish. It's basically Greek hell. Whoa, that guy over there is famous. Hey, Sisyphus! The guy has been pushing the same rock uphill for who knows how many centuries just to see it roll right back down right after. I went over there to try and talk to him, but the guy is on autopilot. It's the ultimate example of unpurposeful manual labor in history. Reminds me of my intern days. Look at that. Tantalus is here too. The guy is eternally thirsty, surrounded by water that recedes every time he tries to drink. I tried to offer my bottle, but the water in the bottle evaporated instantly. The level of trolling by the gods is actually impressive. Seriously, the folks on Olympus weren't messing around when they invented these punishments. It's an architecture of personalized suffering. I'm getting out of here because this eternal failure energy is already bringing me down. Finally, the pinnacle of the trip. We are in the throne room. Let's meet the masters of the house. Hades looks a bit bored, messing with some scrolls, probably the payroll of the shadows. Hello, Hades. I hear you're the big boss around here. What's the best part of your job? Being able to send any busybody to Tartarus. After that, I think I'd better see what the queen is doing. Hello, your majesty. I heard you became queen of the underworld because you were kidnapped. Is that true? It went exactly like that. He took me by force, but as time went on, I actually started to like it. Up there, we call that Stockholm syndrome. Lastly, I'm here on the shores of the River Late, the river of forgetfulness. They say this was the greatest fear the Greeks had, being forgotten. They say if you drink its water, you forget everything you've ever lived through and everyone will forget you. And after smelling Cerberus breath, waiting in Minos line, visiting Sisyphus at the torture gym and interviewing the hellish couple, I'm starting to think that forgetfulness might be a benefit, not a punishment. The good thing is, I can also forget all the cringe moments I've had in my influencer career. And if I were you, I'd hold off on visiting the underworld until you've checked every other place off your list. So, a toast. Before you forget about me, don't forget to leave a like. See you next time.