Under and on the volcano

Today was the trip to Pompeii and Vesuvius (or "Vessy" as our tour guide called it).  I don't have many pictures because there really isn't any way for me to do justice to it with my skills and phone camera.  In Pompeii, we saw lots of roads and stone walls and a few bits of stucco decoration in the baths, and a little bit of fresco in the brothel, but the most interesting stuff has been moved to the museum.  We saw various carved penises acting as pointers toward the brothels, and the guide described them euphemistically because we had children in the group - in one case as "Mickey Mouse's hand".  I would have loved to see the museum, which was originally on the itinerary for this trip when I signed up, but it was switched to Vesuvius.  I still wasn't feeling good and had eaten little, so after the two hours of walking I was beat.  I was starting to feel that skin-crawling feeling you get with a fever, something left over from yesterday.  The souvenirs for sale were pretty cheesy - I'm seeing more and more figurines decorated with toxically colored glitter.  There were lots of penises - keychains, bottle openers, some with wings, some double-headed apparently as found in the ruins.  Fun for the whole family.

Pompeii from the outside.

Somewhere in this picture is a tiny lizard, about the size of a Florida anole, but green with polka dots.

Next came lunch at a restaurant a few minutes away, where everyone had preordered pizza.  They also offered "rice with tomatoes" as a gluten free option, plus salad.  I didn't think I could handle the salad, and I may never eat another pizza I don't make myself, but I had a little of the rice.  It was almost as if they would have normally put the sauce on spaghetti, but didn't want to bother making gluten-free spaghetti so they put it over rice.  Like most things here, it seemed under-salted (and I usually find things too salty) and could have used some cheese, but one of the tour guides told us that it's rude to request changes to the way the chef has presented the food, so I didn't ask.

Then on to Vesuvius.  I had taken some ibuprofen and the feverish feeling was going away, but still, little energy and I decided not to attempt the climb to the summit.  The bus had been switched for a smaller bus as per new rules for the volcano after arson fires over the summer had caused some problems.  I have to give the Italian drivers mad props for nonchalantly managing the switchbacks on that road.  They seem to have far more patience than American drivers - if not, surely there would be far more dead pedestrians and scraped and mangled cars than I have seen.  It's like magic how they get through city intersections that scare the bejeezus out of me, even on foot.

The day was misty, and the shoreline could barely be seen as we climbed, and the top of the mountain was also hidden:

It's there, you just can't see it.

We finally made it to the top, where of course there were a couple of gift shops and some portapotties (one euro to use).  The tour guide pointed out ahead of time that there might not be water to flush or toilet paper, because it's expensive to truck water to the top of the volcano, but the portapotty was not bad.  It was, however one of those places where they ask you to put your used toilet paper in a bin, not down the toilet.  Old plumbing can be fussy, and temporary ones also.

Just climbing the slope to the second gift shop wore me out, and coming down I kept slipping in the volcanic gravel, so I found a chair and took out my knitting.  Apparently if you made it to the top there was another gift shop.  And coffee, and wine.  And if you made it to the other side of the rim, another gift shop.  Of course.  This is about as clear as it got, fog-wise:

These knick-knack vendors were even cheesier than Pompeii (although fewer penes).  They offered fossils and what appeared to be geodes, but some of them were clearly faked, and some that might have been real and lined with clear quartz had been dyed bright pink or purple or scattered with gold flecks.  Lots of pendants supposedly carved of volcanic rock.  Here, or in China?

Back in the bus for the 3 hour ride home and more knitting, where I turned the heel of the sock I started on Tuesday.  Our guide gave us more tips on where to eat and what to see, and stories of an abbey we couldn't see on the way in due to fog, and could just barely see on the way home due to sunset.  This abbey, Monte Cassino, was bombed to smithereens in WWII due to bad assumptions, but has been subsequently rebuilt to marble glory thanks to donations from the countries that destroyed it, including us.

I was actually starting to feel hungry, thinking about getting some risotto and maybe veal if I could find a place on my way back from the Metro stop.  I took a slightly different route to see if I could find such a place and avoid the things the tour guide said to avoid in an eating establishment, but I don't have a good sense of direction and I was greatly relieved when I recognized my hotel's neighborhood.  I walked past it to a restaurant up the street and studied the menu.  They had 3 kinds of risotto and several veal dishes.  It was nearly 9 pm, they appeared to have no customers, but they were open.  I asked about gluten-free, and they said no, pasta, and I said yes, risotto, and one guy looked willing to oblige, but the other basically told me to go somewhere else, and pointed down the street to the place I got the earlier risotto with "smoke of onion".  So I gave up and went to my room and ate nuts.  Dammit.  It's harder to get around because the streets are so convoluted, and harder to find food than I had hoped.  And now knowing the punishment for eating gluten, I'm really concerned about accidental ingestion.  Sigh.  I was hoping to travel more, but I may not be able to experience local foods anywhere.

That was yesterday. Today I had eggs and cheese and salami, and will soon head out toward the Vatican.  Apparently the gods of digestion are not done with me, but I think I'll make it.