The site is now an olive orchard and there must be 8,000 of them, one for every Spartan warrior. I feel a soft breeze which touches the olive leaves, making them whisper in unison. It's those Spartan ghosts telling their tales of battle. No other sound competes: no car horn, dog bark, or child's laugh to interrupt the message. Only the whispers.
The ruins are mostly post-Spartan: some Byzantine walls, built by people who needed walls to protect them. A Roman amphitheater is recognizable but it's new -- 50 B.C.
As you stand at the highest point and look around, you understand that Sparta was an idea as much as a culture. The culture exists only in what was written down while the idea is eternal -- that people can unite for a common purpose to become stronger than the individual. That unified strength can overcome the pursuit of wealth and popularity, which can destroy all that man has accomplished.