Our dining partners from Dallas had organized a tour with a local company, CMT (Can’t Miss Tours), and they were going to see the Amalfi coast, visit Sorrento and then come back to tour Pompeii. Steve and I had not been particularly keen to see the ruins at Pompeii but had always wanted to see the Amalfi coast. There are two ways to see it: by the ferry which is really too far away and sometimes the sea is foggy or by driving.
Driving sounds like such a simple solution doesn’t it? But as you look at the options, they begin to disappear. Renting a car and driving it ourselves was a definite no – cars are tiny, curves are hairpin, traffic is crazy, parking is nonexistent. Taking a cab and riding it was not an option for the above reasons in addition to a high price. A local bus was, well, local and would take forever.
So as we listened to our new friends talk about their planned adventure the next day, I got enough courage to ask if there was room on their tour. She said to meet them at the port entrance at 8:00 and we would just see. If not, Steve and I could still take the ferry.
Bright and early the next morning Steve and I walked through the entrance and waded through many tour operators and taxi drivers offering us the greatest deal we could hope to find. We listened as we walked and found a group of four people who were taking the same tour we were hoping to join. The meeting time was 8:00-8:30; so we all got acquainted and looked forward to the day. Our table friends still had not joined us by 8:30. This was a little disconcerting. More so was the absence of the tour driver. Steve and I were just enjoying the scenery and watching the people; the others were gathering a bit of steam because they had prepaid for the tour.
Another tour operator who was hoping to abscond with our group kept coming over and saying, “He hasn’t shown up yet? He’s not coming.” This would set off one of the husbands who would steam off muttering. It was highly entertaining. Steve and I weren’t worried. It was Italy and they have their own timeline. Finally the other tour operator placed a couple of calls to our tour manager and after much Italian told us they were on the way. A man in a plain white shirt came to tell us the bus was a couple of blocks away and to come follow him. We all looked at each other and said, “No. Bring the bus.” In Naples it’s not wise to just follow someone with no credentials even if you are six in number.
Finally a big CMT bus came rolling up with our friends from Dallas and about 14 other people on board. They had all taken a shuttle to the main terminal. Everyone had a great laugh and we started our adventure. The bus was big enough to hold twice as many, so we all got a window seat.
Our guide’s name was Salvio and he was charming, a very expressive and sweet older Italian man. He obviously loved giving tours and the subject matter as well. Our driver was skillful and patient…good thing because the turns truly were hairpin and there were cars zipping around and honking.
The Amalfi coast was breathtaking – awesome mountainous cliffs on which hung colorful Italian villages. And always the churches. In Europe the town is always dominated by its church, usually a large cathedral.
The vegetation caught my interest. Lush green olive and fruit trees (Sorrento is known for its lemons and oranges) and beautiful evergreens that I had not seen before. There were palm trees and flowers and wonderful smells.
The highlight of our trip, though, turned out to be the ruins of Pompeii underneath the shadow of Vesuvius. Salvio would say, “Close your eyes and picture this…” It sounds silly; but it was very effective. He had a sense of drama and he knew a great deal about the eruptions of the volcano and exactly what would have happened.
The ruins had been carefully exposed and reconstructed and, along with Salvio’s narration, we were able to get a remarkable sense of community life then as well as what happened on that dreadful day. A 9,000 foot volcano lost half its mass and covered the city in poisonous gas and ash faster than a bird flies. Only ¼ of the city’s population of about 20,000 survived.
There were dishes and jugs and houses still standing. There were plaster casts of people that they had reconstructed from their bones – people caught in the instant of a surprise death. It was a chilling but amazing visit.
We basically crawled back to the bus after climbing hill after hill and walking for miles on uneven cobblestone. Aware that this was what awaited us for the next twelve days, we ordered dinner in the room and fell into a deep sleep.
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