Brace yourselves…this was the weekend when I and my redoubtable travel partner, Lauren, trekked deep into the notorious south of Italy.
Before I go any further, I must explain something. Those of you in the US may have never heard anything about the south of Italy. If you only take a quick glance in an Italy guidebook, however, you will soon understand what I’m talking about. There are a whole lot more “be careful”s and “can be dangerous”s about Napoli (Naples) than there are about Firenze (Florence). Nor is this stereotype limited to the international tourist industry. I mentioned my travel plans to a several Italians here, and the responses were “watch your bag” and “be careful down there.” Added on to all this frightening hype was the unpleasant news that there was to be a train strike on Sunday. Rather than cancel our trip, we threw caution to the winds and decided to risk getting robbed blind and, what was worse, missing class on Monday!
Even so, it was with a bit of trepidation that Lauren and I began our trip south. The actual train ride on the way down was something I’d never want to go through again…all I can say is that I’ll be buying my ticket at the desk instead of the self-service machines. I’d like to have seats for a four hour ride and avoid the “incorrect price” fine next time. However, that was the worst thing that happened the entire weekend.
Granted, the area around the Bay of Naples is certainly rough around the edges, noisy, and dirty. Catcalls abound (especially when you’re walking around with Long-Legged-Lauren), and you have a feeling that you have to be a “rough, tough, fighting dog,” like Otis describes himself to Milo. It’s said that the best and the worst people live in Naples. Perhaps we just got lucky, but I think we found the best. The owner of our B and B came out and found us when we were wandering around Piano di Sorrento trying to find the place at 10:00 at night, a courteous police officer on the metro/train found us seats without us asking, and the ladies at the tourist office reassured us that they could get us home by Sunday night.
What with good planning, friendly people, and buon fortuna, we had a marvelous trip. We went to the ruins at Pompei (If I understand this right, it’s spelled with two i’s only outside of Italy) early on Saturday morning. The excavations were so much bigger than I expected. I was thinking of a little Roman village…and boy was I wrong. The temples and villas and the giant amphitheater really gave an idea of just how grand the Roman architecture and infrastructure was at the time. The amphitheater was my favorite. Walking down the tunnel, it was so easy to imagine myself as a gladiator, steeled for the mortal combat that awaited me in the arena. Aren’t ruins wonderful?
After our tour of Pompei, we caught a bus that took us most of the way up Vesuvius. We were told at the top that the later busses had been canceled and that the last one left in an hour. Normally, this wouldn’t be much of a problem, but the hike to the crater was supposed to last 20-30 minutes. Lauren and I marched up the mountain at the double, making it in a brief seventeen minutes!!! We spent as much time as we could admiring the otherworldly scene. One could smell the sulfur on the air, see the steam drifting above the vents, and feel the harsh volcanic gravel underfoot.

I love the latent power of volcanoes. Visiting one is a great way to counteract the humdrum boredom of everyday life, although I have to admit that I don’t understand living near one. Pompei and Herculaneum are anything but Roman ghost towns; it’s ironic that the ancient disaster has fueled the current touristic success. Vesuvius is still active, however, and the ash and lava that brought dead and destruction once are projected to do so again. Really, who insures these people anyway??? I suppose it ought to say something inspiring about the undefeatable nature of the human spirit, but all it seems to signify is how stupid and stubborn we can be. WE can’t let a mere VOLCANO keep us from building where we want to build, now CAN we??? (Normally, I’d insert: “We’re CAN-DO AMERICANS!” but apparently this is an international trait. And CAN-DO ITALIANS really doesn’t have the same ring to it.) Heck, they’ll have to excavate ancient Pompei all over again. I hardly think it will improve the state of the ruins.


Speaking of the condition of the excavation, Pompei can’t compare to Ercolano (Herculaneum). Ercolano is another town that suffered a similar fate to Pompei, but isn’t as big, as famous, or as touristy. It was covered in tuff, with is apparently boiling mud, rather than the rain of ashes that fell on Pompei, which left the buildings in much better condition. Many of them have the several rooms of the second story still intact, and the frescoes and artwork are in wonderful condition. I have a weak spot for mosaics, and I really enjoyed seeing all the lovely geometric and artistic patterns that were made out of those tiny little tiles.
There were colorful marble floors as well that I thought were especially beautiful. The odd thing about Ercolano is that the site is surrounded by modern buildings. If you look up the sides of the giant excavation, you can see buildings that look like they are in worse condition than the ruins. They are the same dusty brown-gray color, and what the Roman buildings lack in intactness they make up in aesthetics. It’s one of those sights that forces one to come to terms with the widespread poverty in the Italian South.
After Ercolano, Lauren and I scored an amazing train ticket that got us from Pompei to Arezzo without changing trains. Not only did we have reserved seats, but we practically had a private compartment all the way. Yes, it was beyond amazing.