Antiquities and Ancient Art

Day 7: Search for Roman Ruins of Naples takes Harrowing Turn

Exec Summary:  Oplontis = thumbs up; Boscoreale = fingers crossed; Lesson on how to safely cross a Naples street; Trip coming to an end...

There’s a point in every vacation when you cross over the threshold of infinite anticipation and enter departure remorse. I crossed the threshold at 8:17 am when I work up sans alarm clock (the latest I’ve slept on this trip) and debated whether to roll over and wallow away the day since I had already accomplished all the main goals or push myself for one more day of adventure.

I opt for adventure. I was not disappointed.

After a quick hotel breakfast, I got outside by 10:15 and set off on foot through the winding back streets of Naples. I slithered my way toward the infamous Plaza Garibaldi to catch the train to two Roman archaeological sites near Vesuvius that were on my “b-list”: Oplontis and Boscoreale. Since the map seemed to bear little correspondence to the actual Naples streets, I rely on boy scout methods to ‘mark’ my trail – Matozzi Café, the Naples Ballet Academy; the coconut water street vendor, the Luna Hotel. Laying random visual breadcrumbs for the hopeful journey home.

I arrive at the edge of Plaza Garibaldi. Garibaldi train station is ringed by a crayola cesspool of activity. Merchants hawking Gucci handbags, gypsy taxi drivers whispering ‘fast taxi’, disfigured panhandlers, and ad hoc weekend market stalls. I pass through the stalls and come to a constant tsunami of swerving mopeds, cars, and buses that oddly only slow for red lights. I discover that standing at an intersection waiting for a pause in the traffic flow is an obvious sign of foreignality. Weakness. The equivalent of wearing an orange fluorescent shirt that reads ‘Pick Pocket Me, I’m American.”  Suddenly the Muse of Safety sends me a 10-year-old on a rusted bicycle.  He blazes a path to my left – a human shield between me and countless Neopolitan bumpers.  Never turn to look at the oncoming traffic, I learn.  Safe passage accomplished. I feel ever more connected to my Italian roots.  

At Garibaldi, I find the Circumvesuviana train to Torre Annunziata station with no problem. A short 10 minute wait and I am headed to Oplontis.  I feel like king of the world.  

I feel so jaded after Pompeii and Ercolano.  But Oplontis (see photo) mesmerizes. Just a short 5-minute walk through a ‘not so great town’ (rife with a drug problem as the guide book puts it), it is one of the largest and best preserved Roman villas anywhere in the world (see photo).  It is thought to have been the Villa belonging to Poppea, wife of Nero.  The original villa dates to mid-1^st Century BC but was in the process of being renovated when Vesuvius let loose in 79 AD.  So we don’t find the contorted carbonized bodies of Pompeii, but we do have a remarkably well preserved villa complete with baths, toilets, pool, many frescoed rooms, gardens, hot air heating system (which clearly wasn’t used in June even in Roman times!), and even a wine cellar (well, it’s a room with lots of amphorae, anyway).

The villa was excavated primarily from 1964 to 1984, with unexcavated parts clearly sitting below the town’s low-income above-ground housing.  The main feature of the villa is the truly spectacular painted wall decoration in situ representing some of the world’s best known examples of the “Pompeiian 2^nd style.”

Mission accomplished, I need to backtrack slightly on the train route then transfer lines to get to Boscoreale, which has its own stop on the Poggiomarino line. Not difficult, and I arrive. The guide books all issue stern warnings about the area around Boscoreale.  But I am king, and not worried. One sign pointing to the Boscoreale archaeological site has been graffiti’d over with an arrow pointing in the opposite direction. Was this someone trying to be helpful or a joke? I leave the station and see another sign reinforcing the original intent of the first sign. I figure that’s the right way, but it points past a car park with what looks like the abandonded remains of Peugots and Renaults and toward a rubbish-strewn bridge. I go back into the station to re-confirm the correct way with the stationmaster. Despite my smile and broken Italian, he steely glares and nods, I surmise, in the affirmative.

This bridge, probably 150-feet long, features a 1-food-wide pedestrian passage way. As I walk, I need to thrust away large limbs of overgrown local trees and step over discarded beer bottles and thorny weeds in order to move forward.  I pass a soiled, used blanket on the street – used for what I cannot say. Three-quarters across this bridge I spot an Italian couple coming toward me. They are not taking the passage, they are simply walking on the road. An Italian road.  No 10-year old bicyclist in sight. I wonder who is more sane – me or them.  

Beyond the bridge, the neighborhood turns bleak. Until now, I hadn’t really felt unsafe anywhere in Italy yet. But the high security fences around the few decent houses, the abject litter, the uninviting road I am walking on all conspire. Everytime I reach the verge of heading back to the station, I hear the siren’s call of another brown ‘Antiquarium di Boscoreale’ sign promising that the site is just around the next bend. Twenty minutes later, I am walking through the Italian equivalent of a tenement housing estate complete with raging marital arguments, screaming toddlers and overfilled trash dumps. Finally I see what appears to be the Boscoreale archaeological site behind high fences. I notice three cars in the parking lot – two, I will find out, belong to the staff.

We’ve all seen a cartoon image of a person on the verge of exasperation finally reaching an oasis where some pleasant, helpful person appears among the lush vegetation offering water and a meal. That’s how it felt. The young woman at the museum ticket counter was amazed that I came there by foot from the station.  A burly man, part guard, part guide, part vending machine repairman, keeps a watchful eye.

The museum is tiny but very new. It tries hard. Display cases have working lighting and modern signage (all in Italanio, none in English). A variety of simple finds from Boscoreale (and neighboring sites) is on display. Nothing spectacular, but a nice 30-40 minute display, if you take your time. My favorite was a terracotta 'dog feeder' device for when you can't find a pet sitter (see photo). They have clean rest rooms, but don’t attempt to fill your water bottle as the water on tap is not drinkable. There is a vending machine hidden in the basement corner with 40-cent bottles of cold water and a few types of snacks.       

The staff are both really friendly. As I am leaving, a French couple (the only other visitors) asks the staff for the precise address to the Oplontis Roman site as they want to drive there next (they have the third car!). It is a Roman site, there is no precise address.  I volunteer my map to them and then make them a deal --  I will help navigate them there since I had been their earlier in exchange for hitching a ride to Oplontis. The walk to the station there is blissful compared to what I’ve just experienced.  They think it is a good idea…the Muse of Safety is working overtime for me today.

We only need to ask for directions once and arrive at Oplontis. My hosts are wonderful people who drove to Naples from Bordeaux. Both recently retired and spending their time sightseeing. My years of French pay off as we converse in a combination of languages. It is a delightfully happy ending to an interesting afternoon. 

The train back to Garabali is uneventful and the breadcrumb trail works perfectly. I take a diversion on the way back to visit the Roman ruins excavated underneath the former cloister of St. Lorenzo Maggiore. There is an amazing subterranean Roman city there, complete with market stalls, Roman cobble-stone road, mosaics and remains of frescos. There is even the remains of an original Roman Pizzeria (see photo). Plus a small museum that shows remains from the original Greek Bronze Age settlers as well. Only 5 Euros.  

I end with a dinner at my favorite vegetarian restaurant in Naples (see yesterday’s installment). Life is good.  I am packed and now about to roll over and catch a few hours sleep before my 5am wake-up call and 20 Euro taxi to the airport. Ciao Naples!!  It has been a wonderful visit.   

Day 6: Welcome to Naples

ExecSummary: Leave Sorrento. Arrive Naples. Hotel hidden in old building down tiny alley. Things only get better from there...

Slept in until 7am this morning, then had a leisurely breakfast, went for a swim, finished reading The Miracle of Mindfulness, then packed and left the Sorrento Hilton (photo 1). Great hotel and very enjoyable few days there. Train to Naples then taxi adventure to the hotel. I knew the hotel was hard to find so I negotiated a rate before I got in. The driver was nice but could not find it (even with his GPS).  We got there eventually and I paid him an extra 5 Euro for not leaving me stranded on a street corner.  

The Decumani Hotel de Charme is in the historical center of the city. It is an intimidating location. Getting into the hotel requires snaking your way down a dark alley (photo 2) and into a courtyard of a building with a crumbling facade. A sign points past some stray graffiti to a little dimly lit metal elevator that might comfortably hold two adults and where you push open the door to go in and out. I wonder if I will die from asphyxiation if the elevator gets stuck between floors. I wonder how many days before someone finds my carcass.

Elevator creaks to a halt and I push open the door. I feel like Dorothy stepping out of her dislocated Kansas House after it landed on the witch with the ruby slippers.  The lobby of the hotel is pristine and feels brand new, but old. And it is. This is an historic buidling (was once the residence of the last Bourbon Cardinal of Naples) and the second floor has been completely gutted and reopened just a few weeks earlier as a hotel.. The lobby ceillings are 21 feet high with 2-foot wide hand-hewn wooden beams overhead (see photo of hallway leading to rooms).

The room is amazing, too. Spacious, balcony overlooking that dark alley, flat screen satellite TV, bright bathroom, 18-foot high ceilings, and FREE wireless internet!  I'm waiting for Bill Curtis from those AT&T wireless commericals to pop out of my closet declaring "we're here in the heart of ancient Naples and we're just found the Internet!"

The hotel staff, including Alessandro the manager, give me the warmest welcome of any place on my trip. They make me feel completely at home with no request too difficult.

Spent the rest of the day at the Naples National Archaeological Museum (where else?). It was impressive as well as depressing.  Impressive in the number of archaeological masterpieces I have read about time and again in so many books -- all here.  The famous large micromosaic of Alexander the Great about to do battle with Persian King (photo 4); the dancing bronze satyr from Pompeii; the Dorophoros; the Farnese Hercules (photo 5), and the Toro Romano to name but a few. I make an important discovery re: The Franese Hercules: he also suffered from an Achilles Tendon rupture (photo 6).

The place is stuffed with the most amazing display of frescos and mosaics -- mostly from Pompeii, Ercolano and Oplantis -- in the world. The Secret Room (photo 7) was open today. Also impressive. Displayed here in several small rooms are hundreds of objects depicting the 'erotic arts' recovered from Pompeii.  Until just a few decades ago, it was kept securely out of pubic view by a thick iron gate and strictly off limits to anyone except for government officials and some scholars.

What was depressing about the museum is how little is displayed. There are some major renovations ongoing so maybe in a few years the situation will change. But the building housing the collection today is mammoth and I expected to see more in the way of everyday objects. More bronzes, terracottas, and other interesting objects from everyday Roman life. 

Only a small fraction of the objects found at Pompeii and Ercolano are on display. I was planning to spend all day tomorrow at the museum but after only 4 hours today I feel like I covered the collection adequately.  By contrast, I could easily spend 4 hours going through just a dozen or two galleries at the British Museum or Met in NY. 

Topped off the day by negotiating a good deal on a nice original oil painting of Amalfi circa 1940-1950 (photo 8). Then found one of the only vegetarian restaurants in all of Naples just two blocks from my hotel. It's called "Un Sorriso Integrale" which translates into The Integral Smile.

Wow, great meal at reasonable price, including seitan grilled in white wine, pasta with peppercini and other vegetables, spinach sauteed in lemon juice and olive oil, and vegan chocolate mousse.  Guess who's smiling now!

Totally ironic, though. My great grandfather emigrated from Naples around the turn of the century and his last name was Manzo, which means "meat".  And here I sit at a vegetarian restaurant.  Go figure.

Tomorrow is my last full day in Italy. Looking forward to it.  

Day 5: 'Grand Tour' 21st Century Style and What Amalfi and Pompeii have in Common

Exec Summary:  Very tired this morning. Long day on bus. Breath-taking lunch from atop Ravello. An undocumented link between Amalfi, Pompeii and Ercolo. "Piano, Piano!" ...

Had trouble responding to the 6:30 am alarm and wake-up call this morning. But I cowboy-upped having pre-paid for my all-day coach tour of the Amalfi Coast south of Sorrento.

In the 17th and 18th Century, any self-respecting member of the learned class embarked on a 'Grand Tour' that included the Bay of Naples and the Amalfi Coast. Back then, wagons and horses. Today, large air conditioned motorcoaches.

But the roads haven't changed much. There are several stretches where a car and bus traveling in opposite directions can not pass side by side.  They have 'traffic wardens' in those spots and they turn out to be fairly benign. It's the stretches without wardens where the fun happens...the bus is accelerating at 45 kph toward a blind curve and being overtaken by a moped while lurking around the corner is another happy tourist bus being overtaken by a car. 

Only one really close call today--jammed on the breaks and skidded 10 feet.  I was on the side of the bus hugging the 36-inch-high stone wall that would surely stop our 1,500 foot descent.  One must wonder whether it felt safer in the 17th Century when your life depended on the whims of the horses driving you forward, or today in these oversized caravaans when every turn feels like some sort of macabre gameshow featuring Monty Hall.

Amalfi can't be put into words so I won't embarass myself by trying. It needs to be experienced. Felt. Listened to. Embraced. Those who have been there know this. Those who haven't, should. Positano, Ravello, Amalfi, Minori, Maiori, etc. each have a distinctive personality. Amalfi being most brash; Ravello being most soulful.

Our tour group had double the pleasure with a boat cruise out of Amalfi to view the coast from the water and explore the Emerald Grotto. It was a delightful 50-minute water tour ... without traffic wardens.

Today was largely a day without Roman ruins. However, I did manage to spot a few in Amalfi (see photo) -- a portion of a column, huge marble storage jar and a very late Roman marble sarcophagus.  What struck me about Amalfi is that the entrance to the town from the port is identical in structure to the entrances to Pompeii and Ercolano. Though they are miles inland today, both Pompeii and Ercolano were seaport towns pre-79 AD when the volcano erupted. Both had a very similar style of Roman arch as an entry point to the civitas. Roman architectural and urban planning influence runs deep, even in towns whose importance blossomed centuries after the anicent period when many of these principals were established.

Lovely lunch in Ravello (photo) high above the coast. Only 13 Euro for salad, hot entree of fish or pasta aubergine and fruit including mineral water and wine which is remarkable for four reasons: 1) it was organized by the tour company (not generally known for great meals); 2) food was excellent; 3) view was world-class; 4) the restaurant was Hotel Bonadies -- a 5-star little shanty that counts Hillary Clinton among its famous guests. 

At the outset of our tour this morning desperate for that first coffee stop, I struggled to keep my eyes open while I listened to our lovely and knowledgeable Russian guide (who spoke with an interesting slavic-italic accent), explain that the word "Piano" has at least 12 different meanings in Italian.

One of the more common, is a sort of Italian mantra for dealing with the busy pace of life and traffic on the roads. "Piano, Piano" (be sure to say it with gusto).  Translates: "Slowly, Slowly."  I have discovered the antidote to perilous driving on the Amalfi Coast and the stresses of modern life:  "Piano, Piano!"    

Day 4: Ercolano is Even More Impressive than Pompeii

ExecSummary:  Ercolano rocks. John rolls....

I thought this was supposed to be relaxing, not taxing. My daily routine so far seems to be bed by 1 am thanks to 10 pm dinners), up with sun at 5:45 am, thanks to, well, the sun).  Won’t be breaking the streak tonight as its already 12:30 am.

Great day today visiting Ercolano, Pompeii’s younger, prettier, and less well know sister site.  I get lazy and spring for the 40 Euro bus excursion rather than 4E train sojourn.  Guide on the bus, an Italian Pavorati look-alike named “JJ,” is very knowledgeable and gives good overview of Sorrento coast on way to the site.  The day starts off Italian-style… the 7:45 am bus rolls in pronto at 8:10; main highway at a standstill heading north due to Boston-style road construction (lots of closed lanes, no sight of actual workers); when we arrive at Ercolano we need to stand in queue in the hot sun because the ticket machine computer is not working. 

I devise a theory that needs to be tested. Ancient Romans are given so much credit for their efficiency – mass communication (i.e. the art of imperial propaganda); effective laws; administration of government; efficient transportation; and even the first postal system.  According to my theory one of two things happened: either the Romans inherited their efficiency from their assimilation of Germanic tribes as they began their northern expansion in the 1^st century AD; or, efficiency is genetic and it has been de-selected through some sort of Darwinian process.  Or, outlier theory: maybe I just expect too much and need to learn to chill with a Limoncello.

I know many of you have already shared your fond memories of Sorrento, Positano, Ravello and Amalfi.  If you have never seen it, Ercolano (Herculaneum) is not to be missed.  It is the closest authentic site in the world to how ancient Romans actually lived. Many building are multi-storied.  The remains are staggeringly impressive.   It has been said that at Pompeii – which was aggressively excavated in the 17^th-19^th centuries before better techniques were employed – archaeologists did more damage than Vesuvius.  Ercolano was in large part excavated using modern techniques. (And, only about 25% of Ercolano has been excavated so far compared to 75-80% for Pompeii.)

The walking tour was only 3 hours for Ercolano, but I managed to break off and do my own tour. Worked out well. They give you a little radio receiver and ear plug so everyone can hear JJ describe the major points of interest at each villa. I was able to listen to what he was describing while I was in a separate villa, then backtrack to see what he was pointing out. I covered twice as much ground by visiting sights that did not fit into his standard itinerary.

On return to Sorrento, had a late lunch at Pedro’s. The Mariana pizza sans anchovies is perfecto!  Then I changed hotels. Have moved from the quaint, centrally-located, family-run hotel in Sorrento City center where the owner made a special grocery-store run to pick up soy milk for me, to the fabulous Hilton Sorrento Palace in the hills behind the city.  Five-star view of the sea and Vesuvius from my bedroom and balcony. All the amenities of home, including $32 daily internet connectivity (vs free at the other hotel).   

But the Hilton has one thing the other doesn’t – a luxurious four-level pool which was the perfect escape after another long hot day in Paradise.

Arreviderci for now, friends!.

Day 3: Pompeii. Taking a Wee Ain't What it Used to Be

Executive Summary:  Trains run on Italian time.  Pompeii is hot, flat and crowded. But also fascinating, beautiful, and tragic. Pedro’s has the best pizza in Sorrento….

After an exhausting initial day, I was awakened this morning not by my scheduled 7 am wake-up call, but by the streaming sun at 5:45 am. Today is Pompeii day, opens at 8:30.  I shower, have breakfast in the hotel (the hotel buys soy milk special for me), and head to the station for the train ride to Pompeii.  Sorrento is the end of the line, so easy to guess which train. Follow the crowd. Reading signs is, well, useless.   Trying to surmise the train based on schedule, even more so.  Allora!  Train gets crowded with Napoli-bound worker bees.  At Pompeii, I fight my way through the work-aratzzi on the train and join a procession of fellow Brits, Americans, Germans, and Aussies meandering thru the station and round the corner to the entrance.  I ignore the half-dozen street vendors hawking cold bottles of water just outside the entrance.

First annoyance, they tell me they can’t print 5-site tickets today. Only Pompeii tickets. Since I am planning to see the others in the coming days it, the guide books all say go for the 5-day. Allora! 

From the first step to the last, Pompeii is a magical place. Tragedy and comedy fuse here, literally and figuratively.  The plaster casts of the ghostly victims – men, women, children, dogs (see photo below) – are frozen in eternal emotional terror while we gaze.  As for comedy, the funniest site of the day was the most famous of Pompeii’s 25 brothels.  Today, like then, the whore house is the single most crowded building to be visited with multiple tour groups standing in the hot sun for a chance to gawk at 2,000-year old graffiti uttering vulgarities of the day, a few tawdry murals, and a rock-hard limestone bed, literally,upon which the ladies of the house applied their craft. (see photo)

It is said that the average cost at the brothel was 2 Asses. The As (plural Asses) in Roman currency was roughly the value of a nice glass of medium red wine.  

A few ruins date back to the 6^th Century BC when the Greeks controlled much of Southern Italy.  Most of the houses of Pompeii, however, date originally from the 3^rd-2nd Century BC.  This is a time of Hellenistic (i.e. Greek) influence waning to coincide with Rome asserting itself in the Mediterranean. The city flourishes until 62 AD when a severe earthquake hits. Some people leave, vowing never to return. Many others start the slow rebuilding process. Many building have renovations in process when Vesuvius erupts in August, 79 AD.

There are splendid villas and casas too numerous to mention here.  Guide books don’t do the site justice. It reminds me a little of what would it would be like it Beverly Hills was dug out of 16 feet of ash and debris 2,000 years from now. Pompeii was a commercial center and a playground for the wealthy class. The villa of the surgeon.  The baker.  The launderer.  One cannot help feel these villas ooze their ‘keeping up with the Jonesius'-ness.   

The mosaics and frescos are sublime, even if the most important have been replaced with modern reproductions in situ while the originals are in the protective custody of the Naples museum.  Perhaps the best frescos are those of a recently excavated bathhouse in the southern corner of Regio VIII, is unmarked, and virtually ignored by tourists and tour guides. Bright blues dominate the fresh walls (see photo above) and gladiatorial scenes are captured in the mosaic floors.

Ironically, there is only one obvious clock at Pompeii; it is a sun dial in the Temple of Apollo.  At the time of Pompeii, the Roman hour varied during the year depending on the length of sunlight.  In summer, hours were longer. In winter shorter.  Only on the equinox, when daylight and night were equal, were hours uniform.  This made keeping time a difficult proposition. Seneca once remarked that telling time was a hopeless task.  “It is easier to find two philosophers who agree than two clocks.”  One would expect to find more public clocks here. Perhaps there are so few sun dials because the water clock was rapidly coming into fashion around 79 AD, and was likely the hot technology of its day. The iPhone of Pompeii.

One of the more impressive houses at Pompeii is the villa of the Launderer. White linen cloth needs strong cleaning agents in the Naples scorching sun to keep them clean and fresh smelling. A soda-based solution was sometimes used, but by far the most frequently used laundry detergent is one loaded with ammonia – human urine. In fact, the Launderer set up pots, yes, pissing pots, all around the city.  Public toilets of a sort. The urine was collected and brought to the central washing vats where the finest linens from the most important officials were soaked in the generous outpourings of the Pompeiian citizenry  Whoever coined the phrase ‘don’t have a pot to piss in’, was clearly not a Launderer.

Final word. There are some 70-odd major sites to see at Pompeii.  Relentlessly pressing forward in the brutal sun from the 8:30 opening to 7:30 closing, one can nearly see them all. However, ignore the ‘restaurant’ designation on the plan of Pompeii. There is no food, no bottled water, no sustenance of any kind sold inside the 164-acre area of the city, except for 8 ancient Roman fountains (i.e. modern faucets) with drinkable water provided you can contort your head upside down and drink on an acute angle while water runs up your nose.  When walking from the train to the entrance, buy a bottle or two of cold water from the street vendors.  And stash away some fruit in your backpack (brought some cherries and peaches with me which made a great lunch snack)!    

After a long day at Pompeii, dinner at Pedros, a dive of a place on Sorrento’s Corso Italia walking out of the center and just past and opposite the Post Office. Allora!  Wonderful super thin, perfectly crisped pizza, local salads, house wine…and loaded with locals. The interior is small and not fancy (picnic tables is what you eat on).  But ooooh so good.

Day 2: No Ancient Ruins, Only Modern Ones

The executive summary of Day 2: Awoke at Gatwick; flight to Naples; Boat to Capri; Late Lunch; Hydrofoil to Sorrento; Drag luggage up a million stone stairs; Directed wrong way to hotel by police; Sweat profusely; Reverse direction and find hotel; Phenomenal dinner featuring local veggies and wine; Score free internet access in the lobby of the hotel because I have my own laptop...... 

Hard to believe I was in London 14 hours ago. I am sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Sorrento City using their free internet connection since I have my own PC. Weather is perfect. The doors of the lobby are open and a rare breeze flows in. But mostly the weather is just, well, perfect. I'm in shorts and a golf shirt. A bus just growled past. Some British tourists looking for a bus stop wandered in looking for directions. Unfortunately, their bus stopped running at 11pm. It is now 11:45pm.

The flight over the Alps was fine. When I lived in the south of France 1989-1990, I took that flight for granted. Today, the majestic, snow-capped peaks were a sight to behold. I planned to take the train to Sorrento.  But on the flight I got engaged in a conversation with a guy across the aisle who is a PhD candidate at a Glasgow university with a specialty in 'value co-creation.'  For those at SkillSoft, co-creation is a big part of Connect, He was attending a conference on the topic in capri and was taking a ferry from the Port of Naples. So, rather than training it, I decided to take the ferry, see a little of Capri and then catch a hydrofoil to Sorrento. 

I had to take a bus from the airport to the Port of Naples. A bargain at only 3Euro, it gave me a taste of the 'gritty, dirty' city. We leave the airport area and head to the motorway. 'Vesuiv' the driver declares to some German tourists standing near him.  The sight dominates the view beyond the crumbling city seemingly held together by graffiti and neglected stonework.  

Still, Naples (from the bus) does not appear as as bad as the guide books make it out. The funny thing is that cars just double/triple part in main streets. The bus snakes its route with a fog-horn-like auditory weapon that blast obstacles quickly from its path.  The driver always grumbles aloud something that sounds like "Qu'est la problema?"  as if this si the first time he's ever seen a street blocked by a wayward car. Makes me laugh. Welcome to Naples.    

Arriving at the bus terminal for the Port, dead reckoning is a required tool to find the ferries. After a short wait, I board the boat to Capri and sail through the harbor past the gargantuan Mediterranean cruise ships and the sight of Vesuvius.  I am surprise that Vesuvius is so close to Naples. The guide books leave you with the impression that it is further away.  It must have been a frightening sight for ancient Romans living in Naples in 79 AD when the second, and most fatal eruption of a generation, occurred. Maybe that helps explain the live and let live psyche of the Napolese.  

The view of the Bay of Naples from the water is magical.  As we near Capri, I am struck by the sheer bulk of the island. It is sheer granite, rising out of the ocean, topped with a lush green toupee that is home to many species of birds and more than 800 variety of plants. A veritable Garden of Eden. The Roman Emperor Tiberius built a palace on the Southwest corner of the Island  - ruins barely visible high above the marina.   Not enought time to do a 1 hour tour of the Island; so I opt for a late lunch of cheeseless vegetarian pizza with a local drink of frozen lemonade that the waiter warns me is 'sour.'  He is right; but is pairs perfectly with the pizza under the hot sun. 

I take the 6:30PM hydrofoil to Sorrento. With my luggage in tow, I climb an eternity of stone stairs carved into the cliff face to reach the center of Sorrento. Silly me. A woman walking near me offers words of encouragement at each landing. Sorrento is a small city that appears much larger when a policea gives you directions in the opposite direction to where you need to be going. The misdirection, the heat, the mopeds, and the cobblestones conspire to make the journey  to the hotel harder than it had to be. 

A shower is a wonderfulthing.  Refreshed, I explore the Sorrento streets as night falls. A beautiful sunset from the Hotel Royal. I wander until I find the Ristorante Pizzeria S. Antonio, which has two dozen vegetarian dishes mixed among the local Sorrento fare of carne and pesce.  At 10pm, I settle in for a relaxing Sorrento vegan meal of mixed marinated local vegetables (two types of mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, grilled eggplant carpaccio, fava beans, chick peas), a mixed greens salad (the iceberg lettuce in the salad actually had flavor!), and a 1/2 litre of local red wine. The waiter takes my order on an HP handheld wireless device!  He shows me how it works -- has the entire menu programmed in and he has no problem handling special orders. Has been using this device for 2 years and loves it.

Not much on the ancient Roman ruins front today, but hey, this is Italy. Relais!  Tomorrow is another day.

Ciao!

Looking for Ancient Rome: Naples Adventure Begins

American Airlines 156 from Boston to London was a nice smooth crossing.  Landed 20 minutes ahead of schedule.  Made a beeline for the Heathrow Central Bus station and now I’m on the National Express bus to Gatwick.

What a beautiful night in London.  9:30pm and a spectacular northern summer dusk of striped orange, red, yellow and blue is painting the sky above Heathrow Terminal 5. 

Will be hoteling at Gatwick tonight.  Mercure, an Accor hotel.  Dependably clean and a great value, the Mercure also has the extra advantage of being a stone’s throw from Gatwick airport.  Besides, I like to patronage hotels with a business connection, and my friend Allen Krom works for Accor -- he is a good guy despite his one flaw as a diehard Yankees fan.   

Tomorrow the Naples adventure begins.  Pompeii, Herculaneum, Naples National Museum.  Will use Sorrento as home base for most of the trip, except for Friday and Saturday when I’ll stay in Naples to focus on the museum collections.  Will be blogging the sights and sounds of ancient Bay of Naples (as wireless connectivity permits). 

Naples seems so far from the ‘civilized world’ of England.  But 2,000 years ago Naples and London were both part of the same empire.  Terminal 5 was built on the remains of a settlement that was continually inhabited from the Bronze Age through through the period of Roman colonization.  One wonders how many Romans might have been born in the Bay of Naples region and then marched north through Italy, across France, and eventually across to England.

 As the colors soften in the sky, it is worth considering how many Romans looked at this same sky long ago and reminisced longingly for their southern Mediterranean homeland.  Modern travel has a way of experiencing in a week a taste of what these earlier generations experienced in a lifetime.