Chireeeeepeepee, Chireeeeepeepee, Chireeeeepeepee, ad infinitum
The lizard, oh the lizard. We have a lizard somewhere in the room that is terrified of the dark. When we switch the lights out it calls out until we switch them back on. ëOpen the door,í Emma opined, ëitíll run out.í
ëWhat ifí I asked filled, with lizard dread, ëitís calling to its friends?í We looked at each other. The door wasnít opened; we had visions of the whole room filling with lizards with various phobias. Despite its complaints, the light went out; none of us slept well, least of all the lizard.
Up Pompeii it was. This was summarised by my wife as ëdullí, ìapart from when I stroked the dog; even though it didnít eat my mini cheddar.î Make of that what you will. Personally I liked the site, though Pompeii is hell of a walk. Itís two miles long and one wide and when youíre climbing over rubble and slow moving tourists it feels three times the size. You can see some random shots of Pompeii that I took here.
The Italians walk like they drive. As long as they avoid any form of eye contact anything goes. Stopping and cutting you are perfectly fair as long as they can pretend you donít exist. Oddly though should you fall youíll be surrounded by a mass of well meaning Italians pulling you up and brushing you off. This is the exact opposite of the English, who ñ outside of London at least – acknowledge you while both driving and walking but will step over you if you fall and pretend you donít exist.
I think this explains some fundamental difference between the mainland European psyche and the English; itís a shame I donít have the wit to work out what that would be so feel free to make it up. Try and involve an elephant and duck, it think it would be a lot better that way.
I know of a couple who had sex on the steps of a pub in England, as they were bumping and grinding ñ loudly with an abundance of vim and vigour – everyone stepped over them without saying a word. When concluded, as these things as wont to conclude, in a damp patch, the couple went into the pub. The only comment came from the Landlord, and if it was a rebuke for the wantonness it was a cryptic one, “Itís cold out tonight. Peanuts?”
For those of you that intend to visit the result of a 160Km/H pyroclastic flow allow me to impart some information to my brother man. Go to Pompeii on a Sunday as the entrance is free;* but unlike us donít go on an Italian bank holiday.** If you do youíll find half of Italy wandering the ruins. This is alongside the population of Tokyo, who will each have hired a personal translator. It seems the Yen is strong against the Euro.
Ignore the vendors scattered around the entrance and take your own water and food, there is a cafÈ and toilets at the entrance but after that they are as rare as an unguided Japanese tourist. When your two miles from the entrance stood in a baking hot amphitheatre youíll appreciate this advice.
Never go on a tour to Pompeii set up by your hotel or holiday rep. The ruins are just a few minutes walk from the train station and the trains run every half hour. This allows you all the time you want to wander without the rush of a tour.
There are two points to know about the trains though: The driverís clearly frustrated at his inability to cut people up and drive on pavements and he takes this out by making the train go very fast, stop with a neck shuddering suddenness before attempting to break the sound barrier once more. The sheer volume of graffiti on the trains means the driver cannot see a damn thing out of them anyway; my theory is the trains keep stopping for the driver to get out and check where they are.
Anything of real interest has been removed from the Pompeii and placed in the Naples museum. This is a shame as after you have toured Pompeii, admired the brothel, the brickwork and the ever changing roman pavements thereís very little to see. Though I took a startling 50 photos so I guess I found something to see.
We didnít do Vesuvius today as well, which was the original plan, Vesuvius was too steep and long for the pregnant wife to cope with. A 45 minute climb up a very steep incline followed by a walk around a precipice with a 200 metre drop while pregnant? Not the best idea ever. We missed out Herculaneum too, but this was because sheíd had enough of seeing ruins for one day, thank you very much.
Tomorrows plan is a short relax in the morning followed by Capri, the Isle of shopping. Who knows what will happen as going by how well the plans are working out so far we could end up in either Rome or Cardiff.
* In fact it isnít free on just any old Sunday, just the bank holiday ones. We struck lucky.
** Do, see *.
