Pompeii

This Throwback Thursday posts took place during one of my favorite trips. It was my first time in Europe and I was travelling with my best friend, who was the ideal travelling companion. This story takes place on the very first day in Italy.

May 2015

It was our first day in Italy and with only a thirty-minute train ride between us and Pompeii, the ruins of a city once drowned in the ashes of the volcano Vesuvius, we knew exactly how we wanted to spend it.

After a complimentary breakfast of Nutella croissants, espresso, and orange juice, we hopped (literary we were bouncing) onto a train south. Little to our knowledge two different trains used the same track. The Sorrento line had a stop just outside the entrance to Pompeii. Unfortunately, we were on the other line; it would get where we were going, but after a decent walk.

While in route, we met a man who had entered Italy as a Gambian refugee. Matarr was extremely friendly, even offering to take us to the entrance of Pompeii. He was eager to discuss life in America, including the cities he wanted to visit once he got his papers, and the musical artists he most wanted to see: J-Z and Tupac. 

There were multiple entrances to the city of Pompeii; we came through one of the smaller side gateways, near the amphitheater. To our disappointment, it was undergoing restoration, along with several other areas of Pompeii. We got a peak from the outside but were prohibited from going inside.  

We meandered slowly past the Porta Nocera Necropolis; originally built by a priestess of Venus to serve as a tomb for herself and her family. Other than a small school group and two stray tourists, the area was empty and quiet.

There wasn’t any intention to our meanderings. Vineyards stretched out to separate us from the alleyways leading to the city center.

Though the stones composing the roads were smooth; their alignment and heights were erratic. Whether this was by design or centuries of earthquakes was uncertain, as there was no information in our maps to account for it. There were higher curbs flanking either side of the road, and two to three flat, wide stones marked the corners of intersections. I could only assume they had been intended to cross the street while avoiding the refuse or flooding that poured down the middle.

On our way to the Forum, we stopped by the theaters, several temples, and a few noble houses. The streets began to thicken with tourists – French, German, Italian, Spanish, and English were the most prominent languages. Despite the crowds, there were moments when I felt transported back in time. When I closed my eyes the laughter of children and adult gossip, became the haggling of neighbors at the market and kids skipping through the streets. If I tried hard enough, I could even hear the scrape of wheels rolling along the cobblestones.

It’s easy to romanticize the past, especially with the existence of Hollywood films. Yet, I wondered did children run through the streets playing or were they too busy working, studying, being married off, or sent to war? Were the elderly covered with the marks of happiness, or did poverty haunt their wrinkles? Were some of them ready to embrace death when it Vesuvius erupted? Did the parents despair in the lives their children would never have or rejoice that their suffering would be short?

Though it is possible to learn about history through surviving documents, the fact that they are surviving means that history will forever be incomplete. Time, wars, and nature tend to be the culprits of destruction. Leaving prudence to judge the validity of what remains, and imagination to fill the gaps.

The forum, once the center of the religious, political, and business affairs of the city, was an empty expanse. Again, most of the surrounding temples were cautioned off for restoration. However, since they weren’t completely closed, I was able to snap a few uncrowded pictures.  

After the forum we traveled to one of the numerous bath houses, then onward to a garden. By the time we arrived at the House of the Amorini Dorati, our feet craved rest.

Although we missed a few things due to negligence (The Brothel), construction (Amphitheater, Great Palaestra), and laziness (Villa of the Mysteries), what we did see was thought provoking and spectacular. It also gave us a reason to return in the future. 

The streets had grown familiar in the short time we had traveled them, so we had no trouble finding our way back to the hostel. Rather than put additional miles on our feet, we elected to dine at the restaurant connected to the hostel. We shared our first pizza, a mushroom risotto, and a bottle of red wine.

During the meal we had two onlookers: a spotted black and white cat and a creepy man who stood just outside the cover of the patio. But neither could deter us from enjoying our well-deserved meal.