Pompeii has been a lifelong goal of Hank's, who is a history buff, and has forgotten more about Roman history than most people know. Our logistics weren't our usually stellar, partially impeded by the fact that friend Kathleen's hip is awfully painful and has slowed her down considerably. Getting to Pompeii requires a train to Naples, and then a change to another train to Pompeii, followed by a taxi (which, in any event, are not thick on the ground here). Rome to Naples went all right, although you are never aware of how much walking is required in a train station until you are with someone who can't walk. However, Naples to Pompeii went somewhat awry - i.e., we missed the stop, and had to take the train back. We did manage a taxi, and, for a change, the touted restaurant, right across the entrance to the ruins, was quite charming. Kathleen stayed there, while Hank, Ted and I clambered about the ruins.
It really gives one goose bumps, to think that this has been here for 1900 years. The Romans were incredible engineers and architects and planners, and the ruins are extensive. We only had three hours, and could have used six (although one wonders if the legs would have held out for six. There was quite a bit of climbing required.
As it turns out, it was a good day to be out of Rome, what with the student demonstrations and all. By the time we got back to our B & B and dinner at 7:30 P.M., the streets were pretty quite (although Lord knows they were still more alive than the streets in Vancouver at that hour), and we were bushed. We had picked up beer and wine in the grocery store in the railway station, had the usual wonderful dinner in one of our neighborhood trattorias with tables on the street, and back home, soon - very soon, to bed.
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