Walking with Ghosts

Roma--Pompei--Herculaneum--from such places ancient spirits speak of lives lived long ago. Lives filled with laughter, sadness, love and hate. Lives spent searching for a God who listened, who cared, who could be known as a friend--who was something greater than Zeus or Apollo or Venus or an emperor--someone who promised hope. The temples are so many and so empty.

It was fun for us to share these places with our son Jeff--an avid watcher of TV programs which chronicle events and people of the past. Anyone who has listened to the ghosts of the Colosseum or walked the Via Appia into the Imperial Forum or studied the plaster casts of victims of Mt. Vesuvius, or been entertained by the artwork at the Casa da Vettii knows the thrill that doing these things brings. The sense of being suspended in time, of trying to know what it was like when that place was the now, of trying to see the colorfully frescoed walls which today show only traces of the beauty they once were and finally being in speechless awe of the architectural wonders created by people of long ago. How did they do it? Could we do it today?

Ken and I have been in Rome many times and yet never tire of being there. There is always a place we haven't been, something new to find--this time it was watching young archaeologists methodically scrape away layers of dirt and mud from new excavations in the forum. As a child I fantasized of being an archaeologist who would discover a lost Egyptian tomb filled with gold and glitter, but, really, what a less than romantic occupation it is unless and until a new engraving or shattered object is found. Then it must be heart stoppingly exciting!

We did go to a new excavation at the Vatican--a Roman Necropolis which lies under two Vatican parking structures. This area , which requires reservations, provides a fascinating glimpse of life and death from about the 3rd century BC through the 2nd century AD. The e-mail address is: visitedidattiche.musei@scv.va When mailing specify the date you would like to visit, the number of people in your party and the language you prefer. (For those of you who have been to the Scavi, it is much easier to get reservations for this new area.)


Then there is Pompei and Herculaneum--where you walk into another dimension as you become the guests of lingering ghosts and spirits, waiting for release from the moment of their terrifying, fiery, smothering deaths. In startling plaster casts you see the faces and sandals and clothes worn as the last breath was drawn--it is being face-to-face with agony as you look at features that lived, partied, squabbled, loved and cried 2000 years ago. This is not a National Geographic special--you are really here and it is true.

79 A.D. Seaside Villa--Herculaneum

We had a great day in Pompei--a nice, cooling breeze blew. We could wander and roam as much as we wanted. In the past when Ken and I have been there, the weather has been hot enough to be almost unbearable so this time was a delight. Casey and his idolized Uncle Jeff were appropriately intrigued and fascinated by the fast food stands, houses, bakeries, laundries, graffiti, tombs and temples left for posterity on April 24, 79 A.D.

Pompei Forum--Mt. Vesuvius in Background

Pompei Villa

And then, Jeff enjoyed sitting in the amphitheater where Pink Floyd has held a concert. His only wish being that he could be there at dusk listening to the music on his IPOD. This sounded like a pretty nice idea; although, my selection of music would have been different.

We were staying at the Hotel Diana in Pompeii (which, by the way, I very much recommend) so we were able to wander back and rest after the day and before dinner.

The unexpected treat of this trip was staying in Pompeii--a real town of southern Italy. What a difference there is between this area and other parts of the country. We have been south before--Naples and the exquisite Almafi Coast--but neither of these adequately reflect the spirit of the non-tourist little towns and villages. Interestingly, once you get away from the archaeological site with all of its vendors, parking lots and buses, there is a simple town of the people. We were there on the weekend when the passeggiata (strolling and people meeting which happens each evening in Italian towns) seemed to last from morning till late at night. The air was alive and vibrant with laughter and good friends.

Young people ride the train in from neighboring towns and spend the evening eyeing each other and forming relationships. Cars--some filled with boys and other with girls, but not mixed--circle the piazza much like a scene from the 50's. Romances are born and die in the course of the evening.

Couples push baby strollers; old men and women sit and share stories; school children run and play; neighbors meet and greet. And we, feeling invisible, sat at the outside table, drinking caffè, watching life pass by. How fortunate we felt to learn more of the country we love so much.

So, this was a wonderful 6 days spent with three men I love--husband, son and grandson. I am blessed.