We started our trip south from Rome to Sorrento under a slightly drizzling sky. No matter, the bus ride would take several hours, and as we’d had stellar 70-degree weather in Rome, I figured we were due for a few clouds.
By the time we reached Pompeii, on the outskirts of Naples, the brilliant sun was once again with us, and the hike inside the ruins turned out to be downright hot. And uphill. I’d say uphill both ways, but you’d think I was exaggerating.
Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 A.D. In quick succession, the gas, then the ash, fell upon the inhabitants of the city, quickly snuffing out, and preserving, our look today into the past. There is a hushed, almost reverent quiet, in respect for the thousands who perished here. The pottery, and a few plaster-cast bodies, is stored neatly in rows in open-air cubbyholes, protected from tourists by wrought iron gates, though it was easy to snap pictures through the wide-set bars.
The reverence of the area is destroyed, however, by the plentitude of bright vendors’ tents just outside the gate. It’s like stepping from a monochrome postcard into a colorful cartoon. Happy Crap is being sold everywhere you look, and capping it off as we drove away was an internationally recognizable “Burger King Pompeii” sign.
Leaving Pompeii, we drove along the outskirts of Naples and onto the northern side of the peninsula to Sorrento. After a fabulous seafood lunch at a local restaurant, including such items as raw tuna with lemon, steamer clams, Mediterranean mussels, shrimp, fried anchovies, sea perch and octopus, 16 of us took the ferry to the Isle of Capri.
Once at Capri, we took the funicolare (tram) to the top of the bayside cliff, where there was yet another shocking surprise. Instead of quaint and quirky shops more in keeping with the local lifestyle, the shops there could easily rival those found on Rodeo Drive! Opulence and excess, and prices extreme!
I opted out of the grand shopping tour, and enjoyed a lemon gelato, washed down with a fresh lemonade. The area is, after all, famous for their lemons. Grateful for the break, I sat on a bench perched high above the harbor and marveled at the juxtaposition—or was that dichotomy?—of the sights I’d seen that day.
Our guide Anselmo, and our driver Andre, surprised us again by hiring convertible taxi cabs to take us back down the hill to the port. Careening down the very narrow, extremely steep, hopelessly winding thrill ride, I wondered what would happen if we encountered another vehicle. Thankfully, we didn’t.
At the harbor, I posed with Anselmo and Andre with the buildings of lower Capri in the background. The big, silly grin on my face is an indication of my delight at arriving at the bottom of the hill still in one piece!