So here we are, entering the theater of Gitana abandoned by men and beast alike. No grand procession for this servant of Dionysus. No chariots carrying painted scenes from the life of Bacchus, no cooking and drinking utensils, no masks, no groups of actors, poets, or priests. No dancing, no singing, no giant phallus at the head of the procession, no foreigners dressed in royal purple. In a city abandoned after the defeat of Perseus now stands just an old (but famous) actor with a fine pair of kothornoi, the high, thick-soled boots worn during the play. It is the last luxurious item left in my possession, allowing me both to walk and dance while appearing taller. They are so comfortable (since the same boot can go either on the right or the left foot) and quiet that were chosen by Dionysus himself when he walked from Thrace all the way to Athens to bring us the gift of wine.