#8 Thursday, March 13 "When in Rome . . ."

In the same routine of the previous mornings, Cathy and Shirley pop right out of bed while I struggle to put my feet on the floor. We are up earlier this morning because we are leaving for three days in Rome (better known as Roma), and have to get dressed, get our luggage downstairs and eat breakfast. All is accomplished and we we get under way. We are making a stop in Pompeii, which is about an hour ride from Sorrento. Again we ride through some of the most beautiful countryside. As we arrive in Pompeii, the old city walls rise before us hiding what was once the city but is now the ruins that were buried under 23 feet of ash from August 24 ad79 until excavation began in the mid-18th century. The buried city was actually discovered in 1594.

We are scheduled with 2 guides to take us through the ruins. The students go with one guide, and we older tourists go with our guide named Antonio. We start our tour at the city gate known as Porta Marina, through which passed the road that led to the ocean. We gather at the Fourm, which was the meeting place for the city to carry out its government and political business. After getting our bearings of north, south, east and west, we step into the center of the piazza outside the Fourm and look to the north to see Mt. Vesuvius rising in the background. The volcano lasted erupted in 1944 and is still considered the only active volcano on the European mainland. We go on a walking tour of the city visiting the market place, the public baths, two homes, bars, public wells, and other places that made up the town. Antonio shared so many facts and interesting tidbits about Pompeii that there is not enough space to tell you everything. Hopefully some of the pictures will do justice to the town. It is absolutely amazing what was learned about early Italian life from the ruins of Pompeii.

Entrance into Pompeii via Porta Marina

The Fourm

Outside area of the marketplace

The frigidarium better known as the cold bath area in the public baths

Entrance way to one of the upper class homes

Mary Kat standing by one of the grist mills in the public bakery

Cast mold of a man found crouching in a corner covering his nose to keep from breathing the ash

Our tour lasts about 2 hours after which we are own our own for about an hour to eat lunch and by our souvenirs. Now, here is my next story. My mama will love this one. It starts when we decide to eat lunch first. Cathy and Shirley and I opt for the lunch counter that has pasta and sandwiches. I get a plate of ravioli and begin to sprinkle Parmesan cheese on it when the top comes off and my ravioli is covered with grated Parmesan cheese. The lady who is serving gives me the most disgusting look that reveals that she must be thinking, "Stupido Americano." Remember, I thought that's what the police in Pisa probably thought about me too when I was "separated" from my group. I select my drink and pay for my meal. We find a table outdoors and sit to eat our lunch. I get comfortable and take my small travel purse from across my shoulder and drape it over the back of my chair. After a pleasant lunch of pasta and conversation, we decide to walk around some of the souvenir shops to find our travel book on Pompeii and some postcards. I find the ones I want and reach for my purse to get out my euros. Panic immediately sets in. I don't have my purse! I left it on my chair. In my later years I do not panic over things I have no control over. Yes, I was stupid to leave my purse on the chair. No, I can't do a thing about it if someone has stolen it. The money I don't care about. It's my passport I care about. I really would like to be able to get back into the United States when the time comes. I quickly return to my table with my heart beating out of the same chest I did not want the purse strapped across while I ate. A waiter must see the panicked look on my face and asks if he can help me. I describe my purse, small red, two zippers, long strap. I show him where I was sitting. He turns to open a cabinet and then produces my purse. Thank you , Lord Jesus!!!! Yes, I am one of those "stupido Americanos."

Now, the reason I say my mama would love this story is that we have a saying in our family when someone goes on a trip. Several years ago when I went to visit Laura and Chase in San Diego, one of the last things my mama told me was, "Be sure to watch your purse." I remember thinking, I am a grown woman with a grandchild and you are telling me to watch my purse. Yeah, right! Well I guess she knows me better than I thought. She said it to me kiddingly before I left for Italy, but she didn't have any idea that those words would come back to haunt me. Anyway, we never go anywhere now that we do not tell each other to, "Watch your purse."

We load up in anticipation of arriving in Rome in 2 hours. As we first enter the city, it looks like any other large city with modern buildings, but as we get closer to the heart of the city, it begins to look like the pictures we have seen in history books and the scenes we have seen in movies. The place is beautiful and there is a church on every corner it seems, which is the way it should be I guess since there are over 900 hundred churches within the city limits.

Entering Rome, one of the many fountains and piazzazs

We wind our way past fountains, beautiful piazzas, and wonderful architecture. We arrive at the Hotel Genova, a contemporary hotel that looks as if it was decorated by a decorator who liked IKEA furniture. I like it in a way. We claim our luggage, and ride the elevator to the 4th floor with packages in hand, and Shirley pulling the extra suitcase with our purchases tucked inside. I am clutching my pasta bowl with every inch of my being. We arrive at our room and manage to get our things into the room without a problem, at least that is what I think. I get my suitcase situated and begin to tuck my pasta bowl underneath the luggage rack when I hear a rattle, the familiar rattle of broken glass. "No. No. No. Please Lord, tell me I didn't hear what I thought I just heard." I cradle the wrapped pasta bowl in my arms and carefully shake it. It sounds like a baby rattle instead of an intact bowl. I tell Shirley and Cathy to listen. I shake the bowl and the looks on their faces tell me all I need to know. It is broken. Someone says, "DK, what are you going to do?" What can I do? The bowl is broken, and at this point I don't even have the heart to unwrap the bowl. I leave it in the bag, insulated by the bubble wrap. I think I take it pretty well. I am in Rome on the trip I have always wanted to go on and the bowl is only stuff, albeit stuff that I had purchased with money from the Lalis for a special place in my kitchen. I will get over it, but when I think of it even now, I feel sad. I have the web address of the place and plan to get online to try to replace the bowl, but right now if I am going to be charged 50 euros to ship it, i may have to wait a while.

Back to our room. It is a nice room and we open our window and shutters to find the busy Via Cavorso below us. We unpack our things and take out for a tour around our hotel. We find the nearest Pharmicia for Shirley and a pastry shop just across the street where we can purchase scrumptous pastries and, more importantly, a $4.50 coke.

View directly below our room

View to the right below our room

Shirely standing by one of the smart cars. Can you say small?!!!!

We gather in the lobby for a group dinner for another fantastic meal of ravioli and veal cutlets. We catch a bus to the center of Rome and walk around the Fourm area and the monument to Vittorio Emanuele. Some of the students with a few of the adults continue on a evening walking tour of Rome, while the rest of us catch the bus back to the hotel. We take our baths, I set the trusty cell phone, and we fall into our beds. Tomorrow is a long day.