Our Trip Blog

The Events of Tuesday, March 22, 2011

                Day 270! That’s…a somewhat nice, even number! We’ve reached an odd landmark in our trip by having traveled for 270 days now.

                I woke up early this morning, unable to sleep in such an uncomfortable bed. Instead of sleeping, I imagined all the changes I would make to this apartment if I could remodel it. Truthfully, it would be much improved!

                The little sleep I had accomplished last night was only due to my newfound brilliant technique of sleeping. I turned a pillow vertical, placed my back and shoulders on the lower part of the pillow, and my head on the upper part of the pillow.

                When Dad finally “officially” woke us up, we readied ourselves quickly, as we were trying to get an earlier start on the day. Once we were finally ready to go, we hiked up Via Duomo to find our European minivan and drive to Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius, and Herculaneum. Do any of those names ring a bell? Mount Vesuvius was the massive volcano that majorly blew its top one fine August day in 79 AD. It spread a thick blanket of volcanic ash over much of the surrounding area, including the Roman cities Pompeii and Herculaneum, preserving buildings, artifacts, and even citizens for centuries. Furthermore, Herculaneum was covered in a thick volcanic mud, which preserved the place even more.

                We drove to Pompeii first, parked in Zeus Parking, and trotted over energetically to the Porta Marina entrance, where we purchased our tickets, plugged in our various iPod ear buds, and began to listen to Rick Steves’ walking tour of Pompeii. On the way to the forum, we came upon several large stepping stones in the middle of the cobblestone street and learned that the people of Pompeii flooded their streets every day to clean them, so the stepping-stones let pedestrians cross the street without getting wet. (Chariots could straddle the stones.) The number of stones indicated the amount of use the thoroughfare received; the more the stones, the more popular the street. Furthermore, the streets had elevated sidewalks, beneath which hid plumbing.

                Next, our trusty tour guide led us to the forum. (No, sadly, nothing funny happened on the way to the forum). Here, we got our first real look at the volcano that started it all: Mount Vesuvius. Rick Steves instructed us to draw a mental triangle up from the two remaining peaks to reconstruct the mountain before the eruption. It was truly an ominous sight to behold.

                Following the forum was the Basilica, followed by a jaunt down Via Abbondanza, Pompeii’s main street. In the fish and produce market, we came upon plaster casts of Vesuvius’s unfortunate victims. When Vesuvius erupted, two thousand citizens of Pompeii suffocated under the volcanic debris. During excavation, archaeologists found hollow spaces, created when the victim’s bodies decomposed. By filling in these cavities with plaster, the archaeologists created molds of the ill-fated Pompeiians. The casts were very animated in their fright.

                Our tour then led us to the baths, where we discovered that the ancient Romans had cold (frigidarium), warm (tepidarium) and hot (caldarium) baths. Across the street was a fast food joint. Marked by a series of terra cotta pots in holes on rectangular marble counters, these eateries were quite common around town. Each clay pot held a different kind of food or drink, and their wooden tops kept the wine cool and the soup hot.

                Further on, we encountered the House of the Faun (with a famous 22-inch bronze statue of a faun on display in the entryway), and two-thousand-year-old lead water pipes, part of the city’s elaborate water system. Next came the House of the Vetti, Pompeii’s best-preserved home, which, unfortunately, and like many other highlights, was closed for restoration.

                At the bakery and mill, the brick oven reminded us of a modern-day pizza oven. The brothel was an awkward and unnecessary stop, so we hurried on to the Teatro Piccolo (the little theater), followed by a larger theater. By this point, we were all theater-ed out, so we passed on the Amphitheater (the “biggie”), and instead wandered back to our Zeus Parking lot, climbed into the auto, and drove to Vesuvio. (“Vesuvio” is the Italian name for Mount Vesuvius, and “auto” is Italian for car.)

                A bit of road construction blocked our supposedly “easy” directions to the near-top of Vesuvio, where we hoped to enjoy a scenic picnic lunch. However, a couple nerve-wracking trips down extremely narrow cobblestone streets soon got us back to the construction site. However, this time, the pavement-pouring machine was further down the street, so we were permitted to pass through the area and continue on our way to the top of the volcano. The curvy mountainous drive led us past several interesting stone statues. We caught up to a tour bus, and were therefore repeatedly terrified as it went into reverse many times to negotiate the sharp turns.

                About a million switchbacks later, we followed the tour bus right at the first fork in the road, and then parted with the bus at a second fork in the road. This led us to a scenic overlook with a railing. Not satisfied with the scenery, however, Dad parked and walked on a bit to see where a not-very-well-maintained road led. He came back and drove us on to an abandoned and dilapidated building, covered in colorful graffiti and littered with trash.

                From the uphill tracks and rotting gondola seat, we gathered that, a few decades ago, this was the starting point for a tram ride up to the top of Mount Vesuvius. It used to have a ticket booth (“biglietteria” in Italian) and restrooms (the toilets were smashed), and perhaps even a snack bar, we think. We found a somewhat grassy, partially cemented patio overlooking the metropolis of Naples and the adjacent Bay of Naples and unloaded our picnic lunch.

                The place was a little eerie, and therefore we enjoyed somewhat of an adventurous lunch. We tried chunky peanut butter (the majority of us found that we actually liked it!) and apricot jam on Italian crunchy toast, ate whole carrots and scrumptiously crunchy Granny Smith apples (from the commissary), and finished off the feast with a “crostata al albiococche” – a packaged, very shallow apricot pie with a lattice-patterned top that we found in the rental apartment’s pantry.

                We washed all that food down with a sixth of a two-liter bottle of Pepsi (also left for us in the apartment), but we got downright silly with all the caffeine. When we had calmed down a bit, we loaded up into the car and headed back to the first fork in the road to see if it would take us higher up on the mountain. It did, so we followed it and took some pictures at the top before heading back down the mountain. This too was difficult, as we were following an even longer bus this time, which had a very hard time making the corners.

                Once we were down and off of the mountain, we headed to Herculaneum, which is smaller, supposedly less crowded, and not as ruined as Pompeii. To reiterate, Pompeii was smothered in ash and pumice, while Herculaneum was buried, first in ash and then under almost sixty feet of boiling mud, which hardened and perfectly preserved the city, until it was discovered in 1738.

                We saw similar fast food joints, baths, bakeries and mills. Common in the many houses we explored were signinum opus floor (powdered terra cotta mixed with lime and sand, used to cover floors and walls to keep out moisture), frescoed walls, and mosaics on virtually any surface – floor, walls, or ceiling.

                Also, each house had a door on the street, which opened up into an atrium, with a square hole in the roof to let in the natural light, and a corresponding square pool in the floor to collect the rain water. Adjacent to this cesspool was the typical marble wellhead, often with grooves in the sides, marking where an ancient rope oft pulled an ancient bucket full of water out of the ancient well. Further on into the average house was an open courtyard, filled with greenery and sometimes statues, surrounded on all four sides by domestic rooms – kitchens, bedrooms, and the like. Often, the family’s business shop was located off the atrium, next door, or sometimes in an upper loft.

                Highlights included perfectly preserved pieces of petrified wood (I love alliteration!), a food shop still completely furnished in wooden shelves filled with ancient jars and pots, a rose garden, and the occasional amazing mosaic. Though Herculaneum was supposed to be not as crowded as Pompeii, we found it to be the opposite, as it was infested with hoards of French students, whom we gathered were in middle and high school. However, we managed to make the most of our visit, despite the invasion.

                We also learned that Herculaneum had been a port. This city used to be at the edge of the sea, but the volcanic eruption produced more land, upon which Naples and other cities sprouted.

                Once done with Herculaneum, we walked back to our car and drove back to Naples. However, before even leaving Herculaneum’s modern metropolis, we got stuck in traffic on our way uphill. Next, on our way into Naples, the traffic was insane. Those annoying motorbikes zoomed every which way, not caring at all what the signs said, and the cars were just as insolent. Having missed our turn onto Via Duomo, we went around the crowded city on streets filled with silly drivers, and finally drove past our apartment looking for a parking spot. Eventually, we found one at Via Duomo 45, and walked down our street to our apartment, Via Duomo 193. We dropped off our backpacks and walked to a famous nearby pizzeria, Da Michele, which is Trianon’s archrival.

                On the walls of Da Michele, we found pictures of Julia Roberts and remembered that part of “Eat Pray Love” was filmed here, assumedly the part about eating. This pizza place had only two types of pizza. Margherita, with tomato sauce (red), mozzarella cheese (white), and basil (green), was the first pizza invented, when Queen Margherita was coming to visit Naples, so as part of a special celebration for her, a local baker invented this patriotic pizza. The second type of pizza, Marinara, has only tomato sauce, oregano, basil and garlic.

                In comparing the two pizzas of the two rival pizzerias, Daddy liked the taste of Da Michele’s pizza crust, while I preferred Trianon’s crust texture (Da Michele’s crust reminded me of gross pancakes). Daddy found both marinara pizzas about the same, though the bread part was very different. Mom preferred Trianon’s Margherita pizza over Da Michele’s. I enjoyed Da Michele’s Margherita more than their Marinara, and noticed that four out of five of Trianon’s Coke bottle labels were placed correctly, while four out of five of Da Michele’s Coke bottle labels were placed incorrectly. (Yes, I am CDO, which is OCD in the appropriate alphabetical arrangement, self diagnosed of course.) Ben found Da Michele’s much more flavorful and richer. Lindsey admired Trianon’s variety of pizzas on the menu, but she liked Da Michele’s crust and atmosphere. Abby found Trianon pizza more delicious because it was rich and the crust reminded her of a tortilla.