After a spectacular last day in Greece, we returned to Italy, this time with Debbie and Donald.
The barf bags are in the seat pocket in front of you.
Debbie, Donald, Kevin and I decided to forgo any of the ship-sponsored excursions and hired our own private driver to show us around. We were only in port for a day, and we really wanted to see the Almafi Coast and Pompeii. Not wanting to deal with the slow-moving beasts from the ship that would limit the amount of things we would be able to see, the decision to hire the driver was an easy one. And even though we didn’t have a great amount of time in any one place, we would be able to squeeze in most of the highlights we wanted to see.
We had been told by someone when we were in Capri that the drive down the Almafi Coast made him really nauseous, and that he wished he had taken an antiemetic before traveling that route. Keeping that in mind, Kevin asked our driver if he had any barf bags in the car. He just laughed, paused, and shook his head no. Seeing that none of the windows in the van rolled down or opened far enough for us to stick our head out, we were just going to have to risk it.
Luckily, everyone kept their breakfast down as we sped along the gorgeous, winding roads that hug the steep mountains that make up the coast. All of us were blown away by these rocky, verdant mountainsides that seem to dive vertically into the beautiful blue water below. The town of Positano is carefully nestled into the hills and works its way down to the water. Thankfully, our van was small enough to enter the streets of the town (sorry, big tour busses), so our driver took us to a quaint shopping area close to the water. Lemonchello, which is produced locally, was heavily featured in many of the shops, and many lemon-themed items, from candy to candles to skincare to fashion, accompanied them. I could’ve spent quite a bit of money in the shops, but knowing that our luggage space was already greatly diminished, we only picked up a few items. Again, we all wished we had more time to explore, but knew that it was limited, so we tried to make the most of it; and as we got back in the van and headed to Sorrento, all of us commented that we would love to come back to enjoy a longer stay in this fantastic little village.
Sorrento was a bit faster-paced and crowded than Positano, probably due to the accessibility it afforded the large tour busses. After leaving a fairly uncrowded and peaceful area, it was a bit annoying to be back in the large herds of tourists, fighting for a position on the sidewalk or in a shop. My patience grew thin as I looked down on the head of a clueless (or maybe just rude) tourist who had managed to wedge herself between me and the items I was looking at on a display shelf. Since politeness was apparently being disregarded, I stood on my tiptoes, angled my mouth perpendicular to the top of her head, and loudly cleared my throat <ahem!>. She looked up, horrified, and I gave her a look that said, “Ooh, that face mask you’re wearing may suggest you have a problem with airborne contagions, and I just gave you a misty umbrella…so sorry about that, my dear. I doubt you didn’t see me; heck, I’m a foot taller than you. Get out the way, luv.” Girlfriend moved, but not before giving me her most “You’re an asshat” look. Oh, sweetie, my resting bitch face alone puts yours to shame.
Dr. Who episodes aren’t the best history resource.
So I didn’t know a whole lot about Pompeii. I knew that it was an ancient city that was destroyed by an eruption of Mount Vesuvius. I had recently watched an episode of Dr. Who that gave me the impression that Pompei was an island. I guess I never really gave it much thought, and since my last geography class was about 25 years ago, I was still under that impression until we drove right to Pompeii from Sorrento, without crossing any water. Hmmmm…color me surprised.
Before going into the ancient city, our tour guide took us to a winery in the middle of Pompeii. After driving through a slightly unsightly and rundown town, I was delighted when we pulled into a quaint, elegant property for lunch and wine tasting. We had been given the option of skipping this detour and spending more time in the ancient part of town, and I was so happy we didn’t; the food and wine blew us away! It was absolutely fantastic, and we were sad to hear that they didn’t export their wine. I’m kicking myself now for not buying a case and having it shipped. Since Kevin is such a lightweight in terms of alcohol, he didn’t finish all of his wine flight, and I was happy not to let any of of his tastings go to waste. I also polished off a good portion of his lunch, so I left feeling stuffed and a bit “happy.”
Our tour guide dropped us off at the entrance of the ruins and told us to be back there in about an hour and a half (his package didn’t include a personal tour of the ruins). As soon as we walked through the gates and saw how far the ruins spread out, we realized that we weren’t going to have enough time to explore like we wanted to. Donald was the most disappointed about this, since Pompeii was a place he was really looking forward to seeing. We had been told by a few people that we had to go see the “bodies” and the brothel, so we decided to make that our priority.
Trying to follow the map of the ruins proved a little more challenging than we thought it should be; I guess that happens when you’re pressed for time and trying to hurry. As Kevin and I were trying to figure out how to get to the bodies, which are actually plaster casts of the empty spaces left by decomposed bodies that had been covered in the volcanic ash during the eruption, we happened to ask a gentleman, who said he was an employee, for directions. He happily took the four of us around, giving us a mini tour of the ruins, taking us to the bodies, telling us a bit about them, and then guiding us to the brothel. Our serendipitous guide gladly accepted a 40€ “tip”, which I thought was ridiculous, but conceded that it had saved us a massive amount of time and provided a great deal of interesting information about the ruins. Heck, if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have noticed the large penises carved into the tops of the walls, “pointing” the way to the brothel.
By the time we got to the brothel, we only had about ten minutes to make it back to our meeting point. I would’ve loved to have time to take pictures, but I wanted to spend most of the little time I had just looking at what there was to see. The inside of the brothel was interesting; there was a menu of sorts on the wall, with pictures depicting different sexual acts. When “customers” came in, they would point to what they wanted on this menu, followed their host to an assigned room, and enjoyed their “happy meal”. I wonder if they got fries with that.