Pompeii All The Way

Sorrento, Italy

It's sleepy? It's a flurry of activity? It's both?

It's Italy - they do what they want to do!

Arriving on this small stretch of the Amalfi Coast, we're met with steep hills smashing up right to the water's edge. We look out the window and catch a glimpse of the freeway - easily several hundred yards up. Huge bridges remind us of the Pacific Coast Highway - but the houses are nothing like Carmel.

We board a bus with about 40 others to head inland towards Pompeii and away from the ocean breezes that keep Capri cool. Switchbacks on a bus. With Italian scooters everywhere. The Lord love a bus driver in Italy. Nerves of steel.

KK and I take a seat on one side, Hubs and Bubs on the other. She's desperate to get a shot of Mount Vesuvius to show her bestie. I'll let her - because momma is anxious to see it, too!

It's a double-topped mountain. Didn't know that. 

And the smaller side erupted. Didn't know that.

And the lava and ash had to make it over 6 miles to destroy Pompeii. Didn't know that either.

Now that the town has rebuilt - the locals are right up next to the volcano all over again. Funky apartment dwellings dot every inch - save a few fields for sunflowers and tomatoes. Apparently there  are lots of cheese manufacturers in town, too.

Sign me up!

We arrive with 976 other tour busses, lemmings all following flags or paddles or umbrellas. Languages fly - Chinese, Arabic, Italian, English, German etc - everyone wanting a slice of history.

After our "here's the entrance, be back in 2 hours" - we're excused to explore on our own. We hop up to the counter, a little snafu with kids tickets and tour groups, but once again, KK saves the day by looking sweet and precious and the gate agent takes care of the missing kids tickets. 

We pop through, locating the ever-needed WC, and start our stroll down the side of a rock wall. 

Um, this place is bigger than we think.

Like a lot bigger.

We twist and turn, we start to climb, we overhear tour groups and grab slices of info as we work our way through an old market, past a theater, up to a park and continue to climb to where the upper crust lived.

Because even in 79AD, people knew that crap rolled downhill - and living at the top meant something. Cooler breezes, too. 

It's overwhelming how large this town is - and we're only seeing part of it.

My energy gives out and I make my way with KK back down to a plaza where there are abundant trees and a breeze. Oddly, they've carted a grand piano to the locale and offer it up to anyone who wants to play. Bubs circles - as he's been practicing a song he's learned by ear - but never quite makes it to the piano.

Others take a turn -we spot stray cats - KK wanting to pet them all.

Um, no. They are feral and they have fleas. Please use your eyes only, lovey.

Hubs continues on. He finds the replicas of bodies caught in ash. He finds more detail, more history, more tragedy at every turn. He's got the photos - I'll find them one day.

We'll make it back to the bus on time - just as the Italian sun is straight overhead.

We wind our way back out to the coast and make the sharp turn down the last switch back to hit a traffic jam. The driver explains when the cargo ships unload, they shut the roads down, allowing as many semis to depart as possible without tourists and busses - and the ever-present scooter - to get in their way. We wait about 10 minutes and finally make our way to the sea level.

What surprises me most about this gorgeous town is that it faces the same issues Gary, IN or Cleveland, OH does with a stunning body of water, but citizens who need goods and supplies. The port takes over the prime real estate. The pollution is gross, the windows are barred, the garbage is everywhere and it's not a town to take a stroll in. The money has moved to higher ground, once again. They look at the sea, but they do not touch. 

I'm sure the locals find that leaving the harbor by 10 miles or so - they find their toes back in the water. But to an average tourist that lands on their shores - there is no beach that's clean enough to swim in when Maersk is sitting 100 yards away. 

So we board the ship - find the pizza - and the pool - and books and ice cream and music and entertainment  - and call it a good day. 

KK's new friend agrees.