Pompeii Region, Italy

March 2011

With three days of annual leave to take before April, I was left with a potential long weekend somewhere. Wendy had always wanted to see the ruins of Pompeii in Italy and I had never seen them either. We found cheap EasyJet flights from Gatwick to Naples on Wednesday March 2nd though the 1630 take off meant that we would lose the first day just travelling.

Arriving at Naples airport, it was pouring with rain. I had reserved a hire car and while filling in the forms, the man said “It is a Smartcar. Is this OK?” I guess so. I had never driven a Smartcar before but had laughed at them in the UK. Smartcars are like cars that have no front or back. There are only two seats and it appears as if the driver is driving from the back of the car which looks very funny. We could have waited in the pouring rain for a minibus to take us to the rentals car park but decided to walk the 400m with one suitcase. It was around 8pm and dark. It took ages to find the car (because it wasn’t parked in the right section) and when I did, it was squeezed in between two cars so you couldn’t open either door fully.

OK. First job. Open the ‘boot’ and put in the suitcase. I pressed the key and there was a buzzing noise but nothing seemed to happen. I tried to pull down the boot but it was locked. I tried again and again. Maybe it’s broken. I tried to squeeze the suitcase through a door with no success. Back to the boot. Eventually, I tried lifting the back windscreen (not something you usually do when opening a boot) and hey presto, it came up to reveal a clip to undo the boot. Doh! There was room for the suitcase. Just. The rain was pouring down.

Second job. We squeezed in and I looked for the key ignition. Nothing on the right or left of the steering wheel. Eh? It was dark and I felt around again. No ignition? I was sitting there thinking ‘I am going to have to walk back to the Arrivals hall in the pouring rain and ask how to start this bloody car. How embarrassing’. Wendy switched on the interior light and we took a look around. The ignition was in the middle of the car by the handbrake. Doh! It had taken us 20 minutes just to open a boot and start a car!

Once we had the car started, we couldn’t find an exit out of the car park. It was bucketing down with rain and the car park was poorly lit. After circling it three times, I headed for the entrance where we had walked in and ignored the ‘No entry’ sign. We found the motorway and headed south to Pompeii.

The motorway was a toll road but it was full of road works and uneven buckled road surfaces. Then the thunder and lightening started. So there we were, in this tiny car, bouncing around on a bumpy pitch black road with the rain coming down so hard that the windscreen wipers couldn’t clear it, with impatient Italian drivers coming past at break neck speeds and lightening that would suddenly light up the mountain to our left which we realised was Vesuvius. “Jesus Christ” Wendy exclaimed “We have entered the gates of hell.” It was real wrath of god stuff. I thought our car would be washed away with all the water on the road. Welcome to Italy!

By the time we turned off for Pompeii around 25 minutes later, the rain had returned to normal. I found our reserved hotel in the centre of town and drove under an arch into a courtyard in front of the hotel. It was called the Albergo Pace. The night watchman couldn’t speak English. He took my passport, gave us a bedroom key and signalled to do the paperwork tomorrow. The double en-suite bedroom was comfortable and would do. Even though it was after 10.30pm, we thought we would see if anywhere was open for food. Right outside the hotel was a popular pizzeria with modern frescoes on the wall. Again, the waiters didn’t really speak English, so when I ordered a small beer and a bottle of house red, I got a large litre of beer and no wine. It was great beer, though I gasped at the 9 Euro price! But the ambience was nice and we had good pizzas and got our wine. It had been an interesting start to the trip.

On the Thursday morning (March 3rd), we had our first continental breakfast at the hotel with the non speaking night watchman providing us with a cup of cappacino and then sitting by a counter with nothing to do except make sure I didn’t eat all the ham and cake. It was still raining. We discovered we were in the heart of Pompeii, a couple of minutes from the main square with its Cathedral and only 5 minutes drive from an entrance to the ruins. We drove there and then decided that walking around the ruins in the pouring rain probably wasn’t the best way to see them.

A magical mystery tour around Pompeii seemed preferable though it took us through wet non-descript poor villages and flooded fields. We negotiated the narrow roads and terribly impatient and get-out-of-my-way Italian drivers. No indication, driving up your arse, honking to get past. It’s not my fault you got your arses kicked in the war. I made an attempt to circumvent Mount Vesuvius which was covered in rainclouds but there were no signs anywhere and we ended up back in Pompeii, which was a little surprising. With half a day left, we decided to head for the ruins of Herculaneum.

A volcano that has struck terror in Campania, the towering, pitch black Mt Vesuvius looms menacingly over the Bay of Naples. It burst forth on August 24th 79 AD and buried Pompeii and Herculaneum under ash and volcanic mud. It has erupted periodically ever since (1631 and 1906 were major eruptions) and its last spectacular eruption was in March 1944, which was seen by Wendy’s dad when he was here during the crawl northwards through Italy during World War Two.

Herculaneum around 10km south of Naples was named after Hercules and was a seaside resort for wealthy citizens. Lying more than 60ft below the present day town of Ercolano, the ruins of Herculaneum are set among the acres of greenhouses that make the area an important flower growing centre. About 5000 people lived here when it was destroyed by a tide of volcanic lava that seeped into the crevices and niches of every building, covering household objects and sealing everything into a compact, airtight womb. It had still been recovering from an earthquake in 62 AD.

Rediscovered in 1709 and briefly plundered, proper excavations started in the 1920s but even today, less than half of Herculaneum has been uncovered because the new town has been built over it. What has been found is generally better preserved than Pompeii’s treasures. From the ramp leading down to Herculaneum’s well preserved edifices we got a good overall view of the site, as well as an idea of the amount of volcanic debris that had to be removed to bring it to light.

We slowly explored the narrow lanes laid out in grid design where we found a good cross section of domestic, commercial and civic buildings. Herculaneum was an intimate place. You could get access into every building and admire the frescoes and mosaics that had been preserved and restored. The thermal bath remains were wonderful. There were very delicate decorations in the Casa del Nettuno ed Anfitrite (House of Neptune and Amphitrite), named after the subjects of a bright mosaic on the wall and in the Terme Femminili (Women’s Baths), where several beautiful black and white mosaics embellish the rooms. The finest example of how the aristocracy lived is the Casa dei Cervi or House of Stags, named after a sculpture found inside. In the garden was a statue of a drunken Hercules urinating. The elegant garden was open to the sea breezes, evocative of a luxurious way of life.

Wendy felt that we had “total freedom” to explore Herculaneum and with few tourists, that it was “like finding it for the first time”. We thoroughly enjoyed these ruins and felt that we had got some understanding as to how the people lived in those days. It was strange to see the modern houses loom over the site which had been dug out of the hill.

With the weather improving, we decided to drive up Vesuvius where the climb was dramatic, with the terrain growing ever foreboding as we neared the top. Along the way, we passed villas and vineyards on its slopes and deserted cafes and hotels. Closer to the summit, the soil became puce coloured. We also passed an Observatory at 608m. Dating from 1841, it is said to be the oldest in the world but it depends how you define observatory. I’ve been to one in Iran which was 12th century. Nearby, was a wonderful old ruined hotel. It was a large gutted building but you could still get a sense of its former glory that it once must have had with its view over the Bay of Naples. Most places seemed to have closed on the slopes of Vesuvus. Maybe they couldn’t get insurance or the tourist industry had dried up. You can park up and walk to the top, but the peak was shrouded in rain clouds and we would have seen nothing. Instead we drove back down stopping to examine the more recent eruptions and admire the views. Wendy felt that it was “like walking on the back of a sleeping lion, knowing it’s going to jump up and roar again…a sleeping beast.”

Back in Pompeii, we explored the city centre and found a lovely friendly restaurant on the main square. We had originally only reserved two nights at our hotel but decided it was a comfortable base and checked in for our other two nights.

Friday morning (March 4th) revealed overcast weather, but the rain had finally stopped. We returned to Pompeii to give it our best shot. When Vesuvius erupted on August 24th 79AD, the locals thought the end of the world had come. Pompeii was a busy commercial centre with a population of 10,000-20,000 and covered about 160 acres on the seaward end of the fertile Sarno Plain.

Numerous myths have surrounded Pompeii, one of which is that a completely intact city was rediscovered. In reality, the survivors of the eruption came back and removed what they could, but left plenty behind. After a long medieval sleep, Pompeii was again brought to life in the late 16th century, quite by accident…but it was in the mid 18th century that large scale excavations were launched. Maybe, if it had not been discovered until later, the excavations and maintenance would have been better.

It was a vast site. We started with the amphitheatre in the east which seated 20,000 people. The sandy ground was full of puddles from the rain. Nearby, the area was mostly walls surrounding original farming plots which had been planted with the same kind of vines that the original inhabitants would have grown.

The town was laid out in a grid pattern, with two main intersecting streets. The wealthiest took a whole block for themselves while the poorer built a house and rented out the front rooms, facing the street, as shops. There were lots of taverns and waterholes and familiar signs of life observed along the ancient streets: bakeries with large ovens, tracks of cart wheels cut into the road surface, graffiti etched onto the plastered surfaces of street walls.

The brothel was memorable, if only for the small beds and pictures of available sexual acts above the alcoves. The Orto dei Fuggiaschi (Garden of the Fugatives) contained (behind glass) a dozen poignant plaster casts of those overwhelmed by the eruption and left in situ. The Teatro Grande was a lovely outdoor theatre with intact stone seating. Most tourists (and there were quite a lot today – two million visit the sight annually) gravitated towards the forum (market place), which was positioned in between the ruined temple of Jupiter and the remains of the law courts. Most tour groups entered via the Porta Marina which was an entrance through the old city walls. Originally it faced the sea but the multiple lava flows had extended the land mass out into the sea, so now the ruins were inland rather than by the coast.

We spent six hours wandering around the complex that Wendy described as “snatched by nature,” but were a little dismayed that so much of it was closed off to the public. UNESCO were in charge and they seemed to have closed as much as they could get away with. Often you could not enter an entire street, let alone a ruined house. In the end, we ignored the barriers and poked our noses around whatever we could get away with. One guidebook had said that “The ruined city of Pompeii brings to light the life of 19 centuries ago and has sparked the imagination of the world” and while impressive in size, the ruins lacked the intimacy and freedom of Herculaneum. Wendy felt that it was “spectacular but impersonal because it was locked away”. Even so she thought it was “easy to imagine what life was like there” and that you“ could visualise the day of destruction looking up at Vesuvius.”

One example of current day UNESCO tactics: I was trying to find the painting of the god with the massive penis (as you do). I found the sign to the building, but the lane had been blocked off with 6ft wooden barriers. I saw a custodian leading a handful of people in the distance and wondered where they were going. I followed them, assuming he was taking them to see the well endowed god. He was actually taking them to a building which was locked. They all had to produce printed invitations to gain access. I hung around outside with the guide, trying to find out where we were. I was peering in to see what they were looking at. In the end, the guide let me in. There were some fabulous murals and frescoes but I couldn’t work out why they were off limits. Some of the ‘VIPs’ were very put out that I had just tagged along and got in without the paperwork and I just thought UNESCO was setting up a two tier visitor policy. Us plebs just get to see the bog standard ruins of walls and streets. You have to get a permission to see the good stuff.

While the others tourists were photographing every inch of the walls they had gained access to, I popped down the street further, climbed around another barrier and found my painting. I had time to take a quick photo before the guide called me back. I still couldn’t work out why so much of Pompeii was blocked off. No work was being done.

By 3pm, the rain had started again and we headed for the car. We had given it our best shot and had far too many photos. Our 2 day admission ticket had included Pompeii and Herculaneum but also included entrance to three other sights. We had attempted to find Oplondis yesterday, and even though we had spotted a sign, we could not find it. We decided to give it another go and stumbled upon Boscoreale where we had a quick look around a museum with the story of the buried farming villa and then a view over the top of it. The villa itself was, surprise, surprise, closed as well.

It rained all Friday night and it was still pouring on Saturday (March 5th). I had planned for a drive around the Amalfi Coast to take in the views. Despite the weather, we decided to do it anyway. It was either that or sit in a hotel room all day. The Lonely Person’s Guide summarised that the Amalfi Coast was “a vertical world of gleaming limestone cliffs and hidden coves, of romantic corners and blue horizons, a world where boats outnumber cars and stairs serve in place of streets.” In the pouring rain, we never saw the gleaming limestone cliffs or blue horizons. We hardly saw the sea, let alone any boats. At least the weather had put off the tourists and the roads were empty to start with.

Our route was from Pompeii down to Sorrento on a peninsula, then along the southern coast through Positano,and Amalfi, inland to Ravello, back to the coast and then turn north at Salerno to return to Pompeii via the motorway. Apparently, this was “the most spectacular stretch of coastline in Italy” with a “heady mix of stunning scenery, legend and romance” (LP).

Another guide book waxed lyrical “As you journey down the fabled Amalfi Coast, your route takes you past rocky cliffs plunging into the sea. …Erosion has contorted the rocks into shapes resembling figures of mythology and hollowed out fairy grottoes where the air is turquoise and the water an icy blue….White villages dripping with flowers nestle in coves or climb like vines up the steep terraced hills…The road must have a thousand turns, each with a different view, on its dizzying 69km journey from Sorrento to Salerno.”

Suffice to say, in a torrential downpour, it was all rather non-descript to start with. Sorrento, “a former cliff top resort whose charm has miraculously survived the onslaught of package tourism” (not any more) looked like a drowned rat sprawling along the cliffs. Supposedly, borrowing from Greek mythology, the Romans placed the legendary abode of the sirens (the wicked mermaids who lured seamen to their deaths with their songs) at Sorrento. Today they had been washed over the cliffs by a more powerful rain god. Sorrento is across the Bay of Naples from Naples itself (not that we could see Naples). On a clear day, you can see Capri off the tip of the peninsula. On a clear day… we couldn’t even see the sea here today, let alone Capri.

There seemed little point in sitting in the traffic jams of the locals doing their Saturday morning shopping, so we pushed onto Positano, apparently the Amalfi Coast’s smartest and most expensive town. En route, we stopped at an impressive ceramic factory. The artwork was superb while the prices were ambitious. Still, it was nice to see something more colourful than the grey fog and mist. The road twisted its way around the edge of the cliffs with long drops to the sea, but reinforced walls to protect us.

“The pearl in the pack, Positano is the coast’s most picturesque and photogenic town” (LP) and approaching it from the west, its townscape was indeed memorable with stacks of multicoloured houses clinging precariously to the steep mountainside. It is a village of white Moorish style houses clinging to slopes around a small sheltered bay. Rising above the roof tops, the ceramic-tiled dome of the Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta (1700) is the town’s most famous sight and was the most spectacular building we saw on the whole coast (with it’s startling green and yellow majolica dome visible from anywhere in town) Again, in the pouring rain, there was little incentive to get out and explore. We also saw the three coastline defence towers defining the edges of the town shrouded in mist.

Amalfi was once the capital of a powerful maritime republic with 70,000 people which brought the art of papermaking to Europe from Arabia. Now it is a small sleepy town of 5000 due to the fact that most of the old town slid into the sea during an earthquake in 1343. It was here that we saw the first tourist buses and hoards of umbrella covered tourists trying to find something to see in the rain.

We pushed onto Ravello, hoping the rain would finally stop – but it didn’t. Sitting high in the hills above Amalfi, it is known, apparently for its ravishing gardens and stupendous views. I will only know it as a place where the rain was washing down the street in waves and simply too wet to leave the car. There seemed no point in tackling the large port town of Salerno and we drove back to Pompeii wondering if anyone else had ever toured the Amalfi coast in similar conditions. I’m sure I’ll be back one day to see it properly.

On our final day, Sunday (March 6th), the sun had returned (thanks for finally turning up). Our flight wasn’t until late afternoon, so we had a final day to explore. I didn’t have much interest in seeing Naples but Wendy had always wanted to see Pozzuoli, west of Naples. We set off on the motorway and going north, bypassed Naples before I followed my nose and took another motorway heading west. The driving was abysmal – Impatient Italians up my arse, trying to get by (what is so important in Italy at 9am on a Sunday morning – please tell me, because they drove like their lives depended on it). A car overtook us in the fast lane right before a slip road and then cut across us and the other lanes to get to the slip road. Twat. I counted 5 dead dogs on one stretch that had been run over by cars. I was hoping to see a few Italian drivers as well. I was overjoyed to eventually see a car crash.

Pozzuoli lies in the area known as Campi Flegrei, a ‘pock marked landscape of craters, lakes and fumaroles heaving with ancient myths and legends” (LP). Icarus supposedly plunged to his death here with melted wings. This area was settled before Naples as early as 530 BC. Between 1982 and 1984, Pozzuoli’s seabed rose a dramatic 1.85m rendering its harbour too shallow for large vessels. An earthquake in 1983 didn’t help either. It did contain the 3rd largest amphitheatre in Italy, but having done Pompeii’s, we didn’t feel the need to see it.

We had come to see the Solfatara Crater. Called Foro Vulcani (Home of the Gods of Fire) by the Romans, the crater’s acrid steam, bubbling mud and sulphurous water have been lauded as health cures for thousands of years. There were fissures of steam blowing around, the smell of sulphur and evidence of previous buildings in an area surrounded by grassy sloped hills. While not exactly as impressive as Iceland, and lacking geysers, it was, nevertheless, a nice place to potter around and take in a geological freakshow. It was a reminder, along with Vesuvius, just how active the ground below this area is.

Popping down the coast to see the imposing castle at Baia, we then headed for Bacoli to try and see the Piscina Mirabilis (‘Exquisite Pool’) which lies tucked away in a back street – just finding it was an achievement. This is the world’s largest Roman cistern, featuring 48 soaring pillars and a barrel-vaulted ceiling – all underground. Not that we saw it because it was closed on a Sunday. Crossing over Naples on a motorway, we made for the airport. It was 4pm and we had time to have a late lunch if we could find anywhere open. We drove for miles around the streets surrounding the airport – with cobbled stones, potholes, mounds of rubbish everywhere, to find nothing was open. It was a poor, beaten down suburb of Naples that needed a desperate make over. When Italy is constantly advertised for its beauty and scenery, you tend to forget that much of it is poor and run down and a victim of corrupt government and chronic underfunding.

In four days, despite the weather, we had seen a lot. It is a lovely region for a long weekend, with world famous ruins, world famous scenery and the infamous Naples. When I finally do my major road trip around Italy, I will revisit the area and hopefully see it in sunshine. Naples has apparently cleaned up its act but we never bothered to explore the city. There is enough to do without it. Back at work on the Monday morning, the volcanic eruption of AD79 seemed two millennium away.