When I was a little kid, I cried at everything. I cried when I got a kitten because I was sad I'd taken her from her brothers and sisters. I cried for days after watching "Bambi" and I cried during class when we watched a documentary about animals being killed to make way for shopping malls. I still remember the exact moment I cried when watching a documentary about Pompeii. It was in our duplex on 5th Street and I was curled up on the gaudy brown flowered sofa. When they showed the casts of people in their horrified death poses, I cried at how sad and terrifying it must have been. Never did it enter my simple 9 year old brain that I might some day actually see the place that put in me in a state of melancholic shock for days.
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| before |
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| after |
On this stunner of a December day, we felt as if the place was ours. There were a few big tour groups in their matching visors, but for the most part, they didn't venture to the outskirts of the town. Wandering down streets and in and out of former shops and houses, Vesuvius was always looming in the background, scenic and not at all menacing. We had rented audio guides but after awhile, I stopped listening to mine and just tried to imagine what Pompeii had been like before being covered in feet of volcanic ash. It was by far, one of the best trips I've ever done.
The next day we went to Vesuvius itself, being escorted to the top by a taxi service, and walking up a steep incline for about 15 minutes. The day was cold and cloudy but it was still worth it to see the crater and smoke, not to mention the view of Naples Bay.
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| stones are for crossing road during heavy rain |
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