Tangled in the Fabric of Time

First of all, before anything else, I must say that Pompei is beautiful. I mean, it's not a grand mass of everything... it's a bit small, compared to some of the ruins we saw in Greece... but in its own little corner, it's a fascinating spot. Positively beautiful ^^

Okay, back into some sort of cronological order...

The day started with a slightly confusing two-hour train ride through scenic Italy. Of course, we had to be split into two or three separate cabins (if I remember, Chrissy took a nap in an unoccupied cabin). We, being our normal group of Naomi, Katina, Abigail, Patrick, and myself, had a space all to ourselves, and kept ourselves entertained by reading poetry. This was a lot more interesting than it sounds. The height of this experience was hearing Patrick read excerpts from the original The Jungle Book. His flair for the dramatic came out splendidly during the death of Nagini, and I secretly wondered why he hadn't persued acting (possibly as a Shakespearian actor) any farther than his college days.

When we got off the train (a little more complicated than it sounds, really) and transported out to Pompei, we stopped for lunch. We hadn't had our Second Breakfasts, and we were ready to attack any non-human meat that moved. So we sat in an outdoor cafe, and our table (still consisting of our "normal group") ordered five different things to share around the table: lasagna, spaghetti, two different pizzas, and these fried riceball-shaped meat and cheese treats, of which I've yet to find anything better. Patrick and I made a vow to stop by the cafe on the way out of the city and pick up some to go.

As we polished off all five plates, our tour guide came to greet Lee and Papa Phil. Now, I first need to explain the significance of this tour guide: two or three years prior, Lee had taken a different group of students to Rome and Paris (one of these students was my older sister, Kate), and when they had visited Pompei, they had all been assigned to a spectacular tour guide named Alphonso. When Lee had called to make arrangements for our day in Pompei, she had specifically asked for Alphonso again; and, very fortunately, it was Alphonso who came into the cafe that day to reintroduce himself to us. ...erm, well, to Lee and Phil, actually. But close enough.

Alphonso led us through the ancient city, explaining history and culture as he went. It was almost difficult to understand him through his thick Italian accent, but it only made us listen harder and learn more ^^ and he could not only speak Italian and English, but he knew Latin, and conversed with Japanese tourists and sang in French in the colesseum. We finally decided the man was "pentalingual", judging by as many different languages we heard from him.

As he led us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pity at the preserved grounds, and especially after seeing the ash-preserved bodies on display. Who back then could've thought, "Y'know, one day I'm going to be in a museum as a disfigured mummified corpse. Won't that be swell?" Who could've guessed that living in the shadow of a "dormant" volcano would be as living in the shadow of death? I reached out several times to touch parts of the brick walls that were eaten away by the ash, and the inkling of pity turned into a wave of sorrow. What a horrible, horrible way to die...

I suppose that's why I like Pompei so much. It was one of the few places on our tour that inspired a more emotional reaction, rather than awe or joy. I was almost depressed, but I liked it. I wonder how many other tourists come to Pompei, heartbroken for those for whom no one was left to greive?

Aargh. Damn my empathetic nature.

The colusseum wasn't as grandios as I'd pictured it, in all the tales I'd heard of Pompei, but it was still fascinating. Alphonso sang first in Italian (I think... >_< style="font-style: italic;">middle of nowhere. And then the windows started frosting over...

Nah. I wish.

No, it wasn't a bunch of Dementors; we didn't find out 'til the next day that the white smoke had come up over the mountains -- the new Pope had been elected.

Interesting story of the day! After we had dinner that night (and THAT was fun. -_-a a lot of confusion and mostly the fault of Camping Fabulous), we started walking back to the bungalows when I was overcome by severe abdominal pains. It was very inconvenient -we were walking along the side of the road at the time- AND embarrassing, because I couldn't walk! Patrick ended up convincing me into letting him carry me on his back. And Abigail HAD to take a picture of it. >_<* Thanks.