Saul walked me to the train station the on the night of Halloween. I was nervous, sweating and slightly shaking. I didn't know why, but I was dreading going to Napoli. I heard so many stories about how dangerous Naples was, especially for someone traveling alone. Saul was really concerned about me arriving in Napoli after dark, and told me, seriously, to waste no time and run from the metro to my hostel. I don't usually get nervous about things. But this time, I was. The feeling was dreading... but being impulsive and stubborn by nature, I ignored it. I boarded the train and Saul waited outside to see me off. But, there was a problem with the train. Someone had broken a window so the train was delayed by 40 minutes. My nervousness was increasing, and I began to consider staying one more night in Rome. But before I could finalize on my decision, the train was ready to leave. So, I walked on the train, found a seat, and looked out the window to Saul until I could not see him anymore.
When I arrived in Napoli, I walked off the train, trying to be one hundred percent aware of everything around me. I had a slip of paper that had directions to my hostel, and it made me nervous because the directions included taking an underground metro, changing to a different line, then heading aboveground to a piazza and wandering some cobblestone alleys in order to get there. When I arrived to the metro, instantly men were hooting and calling after me. I was absolutely frightened, but determined not to show it. I held my head up high and walked boldly and briskly past them, ignoring their calls. When I got on the metro, another man came up to me. He had dreadlocks and a bandanna, dressed in grunge clothes. I made the so called mistake of making eye contact with him, and he immediately started talking. He didn't ask much about me, just said he just got back from a music convention in Rome. He gave me his business card and said that he was a musician. I took the card, and he noticed my directions. He grabbed the paper and read that I was switching metro stops and offered to take me to the second metro stop, since he was doing the same. I reluctantly agreed. He was really nice though, but extremely difficult to understand. My hearing aids were completely dead by then, and so I had given up on wearing them... meaning I was relying completely on reading lips. We got on the second metro, and he showed me which stop to get off, and kept on going to his destination. I was relieved that he was just a kind stranger and not a trafficker or a mugger!
I ascended the steps from the underground to aboveground. When I arrived to the top, I was standing on a sidewalk with a single lampost glowing a soft orange above me. There was a roundabout in front of me and a bunch of shops surrounding me. I had no idea where I was. I searched for a street name, but there were no signs in sight. I started to feel frightened, until I spotted an old lady who was probably in her seventies, walking down the street. It was almost midnight and the streets were bare. I wondered what an old lady was doing there all alone at this time of the night. Shyly, I walked up to her and pointed to my paper and asked if she knew where the San Rosa piazza was. She grinned broadly and exclaimed an, "AH!" She started to speak to me in rapid Italian, then switched to very broken English while pointing to the paper, "Yes, yes. I live. Come." She grabbed my hand and led me down the street. We crossed the street and came across a crumbling church, with red paint peeling off the walls. There was an alleyway that we turned into, and took another turn, and another, where we finally arrived at an iron gate. Through the gate, you could see a faint sign that had "San Rosa Youth Hostel" painted on it. The old lady said, "Now I go home." I thanked her, "Grazie mille!" She smiled and disappeared around the corner. I stood at the gate in the chilly night and realized without this old lady, I would have never found this hostel. How could I? There were no street names anywhere and the directions were only vague. I couldn't imagine being stuck in Napoli with no place to go, all alone. That old lady, to me, was an angel sent from God... to help me find my way to safety.
When I arrived in my hostel room, I discovered I was sharing the room with 9 other youths. I fell upon my assigned bunk and crashed. The next morning, I awoke early and boarded the train to Pompei. I was so exhausted. My whole body felt like a brick of lead. It was about the 10th day I had been traveling, with very little sleep, hardly any food, and walking around cities for hours. But I was determined to see Pompei. The ancient ruins have always fascinated me when I read them in books and magazines. I wanted to see how the people lived, the well preserved paintings, and to see the grisly remains of those who were killed in the famous Mount Vesivus eruption.
At the ticket desk outside of Pompei, I prepared to pay the 11 euro fee to enter. I didn't have hearing aids in, so I wrote on a piece of paper asking for one ticket, and motioned that I was deaf. The woman at the counter told me I could go in for free. I was really excited cause it meant I could probably get some Napoli pizza, which was supposed to be delicious.
After entering the ruins and looking around for a while, I was completely fascinated with the architecture of the columns and the grid pattern of the streets. Wandering for a few hours, I had stumbled across a stadium, an completely intact monument, and many rooms with amazingly well preserved paintings. The paintings were impressive and fascinating. In my mind, I could recreate the pre-eruption Pompei; her streets bustling with vendors and people dressed in long, white robes and sandals. I could imagine the rooms painted a bold red and black, laced with gold borders, and many walls with frescos decorated upon them. I looked at the remains of those rooms. It was unbelievable that those paintings had survived the disastrous volcanic eruption. The peeling paint was still a vivid red and gold, and the frescos of people living their daily lives were still amazingly detailed.
I stopped by a small restaurant in the center of the city, where I rested my exhausted body and enjoyed a pizza margherita and a bowl full of coffee gelato. After, I walked towards the other side of the city where the bodies were located. The remains were even more grisly in person than in the pictures. The hollowed out shapes of bodies buried under the ashes were filled with cement to make a statue of what the person looked like. It was so interesting. You could see how they died. Some people were laid peacefully and unexpressionless. Others, however, seemed to die torturous and painful deaths. There were statues of men with their mouths open in a silent scream. Their bones stuck out of the cement. Some were laid in the fetal position. There were the remains of a man who was sitting in a corner with his palms pressed together, as if he was praying in his final moments, begging to God that he would not perish.
After I saw the bodies, I continued to wander the city. I came across arches and columns, more painted rooms, and archelogical sites. I was so exhausted and the sun was beginning to go down. There was a path leading to the exit, but as I was heading down that path, I noticed there was a faint path up a hill. It was covered with grass growing over cobblestones. A very faint path, but a path nonetheless. I decided to explore, despite my exhaustion. I climbed the hill and followed the path, passing farms, water fountains, and friendly stray dogs. Finally, I reached the top and realized I could see the entire city of ancient Pompei. Behind the ruins, modern Pompei stood. The view was breathtaking. Behind me was the ocean, with the sunset reflecting off the shimmering waters. Mount Vesivus was towering faintly through the blue-grey haze. I realized that I loved my curiosity and my passion to explore. If I had been blinded by simply focusing on seeing the main points of Pompei and then going home (as many tourists do), I would have never found this path. But, following my natural urge to explore, I was rewarded with a view of Pompei that most of the visitors passing through do not get to see.
I stood there in the sunset, looking over the ghostly shadows of Pompei before turning around to witness the chilling grandeur of the volcano that devastated the once thriving metropolis thousands of years ago. I was aching to my bones, my entire body felt like lead, and my eyes were swollen from sleep deprivation.
Yet, on top of that hill, I had never felt so alive...
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