Pompei Scavi

A most anticipated destination of my trip. Naples. Mt Vesuvius, and the ancient ruins of Pompeii.

This post may be NSFW (not safe for work) 🔞 🤣.

I disembark after a morning debrief with Ian. G'day mate exchanges and all that. I join a tour for the day to explore seaside Sorrento with a cheese making class and farm to plate lunch. It is spectacular, and I take note to source some rennet once I'm home. Imma gonna make a the mozzarella like a Nonna. I've made ricotta before. I'm excited, though, must show restraint as my love for cheese is eternal.

I happen upon a jazz band in the streets of Sorrento and am swept away by the zest for life Italians have. Their joy is contagious. I wonder if I'm viewing Italy through holiday mode, or if everyone is just happy because they enjoy their caffeine and carbs! I think their antidote is walking everywhere. I do that a lot, too, and pray my final week in Italy is not the final week my beloved Levis will fit. I must keep up my running.

We arrive at Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius, peeking behind. This ancient city is a sight to behold, and the preservation of these ruins is meticulous. Take note, Egypt. Take note.

We amble through the streets and learn the history of Pompeii from our tour guide Luigi (why are all Italian men Luigi? I note with humour, our coach driver is named Mario. Of course!).

We begin in downtown Pompeii and explore what once were shop fronts. A wood fired oven for baking bread, long before the blessed union of tomatoes and cheese for the pizza. We explore the baths with gymnasium arenas. Work out, then bathe. Opulent and ingenious. Led pipes for heated water. Sculpted walls to ensure condensation is channelled. I am in awe of the ingenuity in a city progressively constructed from 7-6 centuries BC.

We move on to the seedier parts of town and are led through a brothel. I'm happy to share that it is my first ever visit to one. Luigi explains the sea faring visitors to Pompeii came (pun intended) from other countries and the languages not universal. This was solved with a painted 'menu' of the available services. Positions. Progressive indeed.

I note the beds in each "boudoir" are carved rocks. I suspect they were shrouded in animal hair or skin for comfort, though my very Australian humour is lost in translation when I proclaim, "That's a whole new meaning to getting hard!", and I'm met with awkward stares.

We continue through to view some mummified human remains. It's easy to disconnect what you are viewing through the glass, though I take a moment to imagine the terror of this monumental tragedy.

It is at this moment the masses of cheese I'd enjoyed at lunch did their thing and I need to fart. I sneak off to a corner. Relieve myself. Luigi, at that exact moment, begins to explain that the deaths of the people of Pompeii were caused by toxic gas, and the group move through the (what I thought was private) area I'd chosen. I've added a sensory dimension without meaning to. #sorry #weallfart.

We continue through the streets of ancient Pompeii, and Luigi points out the penis carvings in the volcanic rock roads. There are many! He explains it is (was) to ensure any visitors could follow the carvings to find the brothel. Important they knew where to get their rocks off. From carved cocks. In rocks.

I wasn't expecting a reminder today that prostitution is indeed the oldest industry. I expected a conservative Catholic Italy.

I declined purchase of penis magnets to commemorate my visit.
I do purchase a cappuccino on departure. I sip, expecting the gorgeous Italian coffee I've enjoyed to date. It's too hot. My throat is burned. And I think of course. Pompeii. Lava. Of course. Touche.

Our final day on the cruise. Onwards to Rome and my accommodation near the Vatican. I may need to repent after a day of immoral history.Okumaya devam et