Lost and Found

We've been looking forward to today, and it finally rolled around.  We were out of the house and moving by 7 this morning, rolling down the road in a hired Mercedes with our friend and driver Sr. Giacomo, who also drove us to Florence.  Our destination:  Herculaneum:  one of the ancient Roman cities on the Bay of Naples destroyed by the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Laura and I had been to Pompeii on a previous trip, and had wanted to try to make Herculaneum on this trip, both because it is smaller (easier to see) and because it is better preserved, having been covered in 80 feet of ash rather than bombarded with burning stone.  Our 2.5 hour transport went fine, although our tired girls, who didn't heed our warning to go to bed early last night, spent most of it sleeping in contorted positions on seats and, ultimately, laying in the floor of the van.  We got to Herculaneum about 9:30, only to encounter the not entirely unexpected news that due to an unanticipated labor strike, the monument would not be opening until 11.  With limited time and considerable investment in getting to this attraction, we were a bit dismayed, as were others waiting to go in.  I'm not sure what happened next, but somehow the "strike" resolved itself, and suddenly, the monument opened.  Oh, Italy...  Once inside, we were accosted by a guide, trying to assemble a 10-adult English-speaking tour.  We had to wait about 40 minutes for him to get his group together, which was annoying, given our time-limitations, but both Laura and I agreed, based on our Pompeii experience, that there is a lot to be said for having someone interpret an historical site rather than trying to figure it out yourself, based on a guidebook.  Our hunch was right.  Once we got going, our guide did a great job for the next 90 minutes, telling the story and pointing out the highlights of this remarkable site.  The story is pretty straightforward:  When Vesuvius went off, the initial eruption drifted east, giving Herculaneum residents the opportunity to escape.  Most did so, except for about 300 poor souls, who waited too late and whose skeletal remains can still be seen huddled by the then-seashore where they fell, trapped by an incoming tsunami and unable to escape the 1000 degree gas that tore through the town mid-eruption.  What came next was a massive dump of ash from the sky--ash which covered the town and pushed back the shore 400 meters.  In the process, everything was preserved in situ for 1700 years, when the remains were stumbled upon and missions were sent in to to dig exploratory tunnels to recover statutes and other artifacts, many of which can now be seen in the archeological museum in Naples (which we really need to visit some day.)  Today, about a quarter of Herculaneum has been uncovered.  (The rest is under the modern town.)  It's probably as close as one will ever come to experiencing an actual Roman Empire town as it would have functioned in its heyday.  Mosaic floors are intact, some sculptures, frescoes, colored columns, amphorae and even a few of the furnishings have survived.  (That baths, which we had seen in fragmented state at Carcalla, are particularly amazing and well preserved.)  A cool thing was the presence of a recreated garden, featuring quince trees, pomegranates, and roses, replanted after the carbonized roots identified the species originally planted.  Perhaps the strangest thing about Herculaneum was the total absence of a church, this being a relatively small town in the early Christian period when Christianity was illegal and not publicly tolerlated (that wouldn't come around for 300 more years.)  Unlike the sites in Roman, which have been "cleansed" of their pagan past, this community never got the chance for a remodel, leaving it devoid of crosses, gold, engravings and ecclesiastical modifications that create an architectural mishmash of acheological sites in Rome.  All this was very interesting to Laura and Scott, and seemed interesting to the girls.  The most amusing part of the tour was our guide's fixation on Herculaneum's sewer system, which like Pomeii's, used the public roads as an open sewer but, since Herculaneum was built on a slope, allowed everything to be washed to the beach (and ultimately the sea) in quick order.  Not a place I would have wanted to go frolic in the waves!  Post Herculaneum, were were HOT!  The air-conditioned car felt amazing, as it took us up Mt. Vesuvius to a local vineyard, wine making operation and restaurant, at Cantina Vesuvio.  We took a quick tour of the vines and enjoyed anti-pasti, amazing bread, spaghetti and dulcetti, and of course, wine--white, rose, red and sparkling, plus an apricot liqueur.   This region is known as the Lacryma Christi, literally, the "Tears of Christ", which is reference to tears cried so voluminously by Christ as he struggled with Lucifer, that they poured down the sides of Vesuvius and collected in the sparkling blue Bay of Naples below.  However the water got there, it's a lovely setting.  This area has produced wine for a long time, and its wines are supposedly as close as you can get to the wines that ancient Romans would have known. (Wikipedia quoting Wine Enthusiast).  If so, it's not a huge surprise that ancient Romans liked their wine!  I was fascinated by the grapes--the white Capretonne (old goat) and red Piedderosso (red pigeon feet), which thrive in alkaline soil and can survive cold temperatures, including snow and can recover in the event of a freeze.  Sounds like Central Oregon to me!  Full of good food and wine, we headed back to Rome, fascinated to see along the way, a huge fire a the Port of Naples and a forest fire roaring on the side of the hills.  We also enjoyed a magnificent rain and hailstorm--the first we've seen, since coming here, bringing at least temporarily, some relief from the constant heat.