As has been described in an earlier entry, we were enjoying Naples in all it's manic wonder but we were intent on getting out to see Pompei. Now, I've already mentioned many things that Italians are but one thing that they most certainly are not is organized. We were at the train station in Naples, perversly enjoying the manic behavior all around us while we tried to figure out how to buy a pair of tickets to take us to see the ruins of the ancient Roman resort town. With a sharp eye for opportunity, a station bum (though being Italian he was natuarally looking a bit spiffy) decided, purely out of the goodness of his heart, to help us out. He showed us a small kiosk where we could purchase a pair of train tickets and then mentioned that we could catch the train at platform 3.

All well and good. However, I had rather cottoned on to the fact that this act of good samaritainism would probably come with a price tag. Probably enough of a tag for a bottle a beer. (A large bottle of beer, obviously!) Well, I was right. As we attempted to leave our "guide" with a Euro, which is enough for a bottle of beer... (Yes, a large one at that) things got a little, how shall we say..., aggitated. His contempt at my offering of a Euro for all his endeavors (which would have probably had him at at hourly rate of €100 per hour allowing for freqent toilet and beer breaks) was, to say the least, rather obvious. His arms were flailing all over the show like some demonic threshing machine. His voice had raised several octives and a few dozen decibels as he decried my pitiful offering and demanded at least 2 Euros.

Well, now as you all know... I am a reasonable bloke and I don't mind being taken advantage of.... to a point. Being robbed blind while attempting to give an honest and fair settlement really, really hacks me off. Some of the characteristics I have attributed to Italians such as passionate, opinionated and demonstrative can also be Scottish traits; though granted these typically only show themselves after several pints and the conversation has swung around to football. Now, however they would be employed to defend my utterly defendable position. Of course, that other Scottish train of being, oh... how shall we say.... Frugal... would certainly cement my position.

He the man who just seconds beforehand had been calling me, "My friend" held the glistening Euro about 2 inches before my face and with a great theatrical sweep of his arm, pretended to throw the money away in disgust. A point he emphasized with a yell (A very LOUD yell) of "Jesus Christ!!" You know the old saying the one that sounds a bit like "When in Naples, do as the Neopolitans" --- Well, I took it to heart. With one hand showing a pinched finger and thumb thrust to within a millimeter of the "gentleman's" nose and the other arching through the air then mennacingly moving toward the side of his head in a hacking action, I blurted out at least as loudly as he had... "There is no point on calling on Him. He's not going to get you any more money from me! And if you don't want the money I've already given you, I'll bloody well have it back."

To say that he was startled was an understatement. He then uttered some of the most unitentionally funny words I have ever heard. With his eyes open bugged wide and his arms spread apart at his side in his gesture of ease he said, "Calm Down, Calm Down!!" Here I am, me, as meek and mild as Tiny Tim being emplored to calm down by an irate Italian... nay, nay... a Nutty Neopolitan!! To control my urge to howl with laughter took more restraint than I think I had but with a dismissive "on your way and don't spend that Euro all at once" look and a flick of the hand we parted ways.

Sadly, for I was hugely entertained by this old boy, the rest of the journey to Pompei was utterly uneventful.

When Mt. Vesuvius blew her top in 79AD, this wealthy Roman town was burried in a sea of buring pumice stone. Although this was clearly very bad news for the inhabitants of street upon street of luxury villas and shops who's remains you can see captured in animated death throes (it is sometimes difficult to remember that you are gawping at the remains of people and not just a model exhibit in a museum) for us, all these centries later, it is great news as the lapilli (as the hot pumice covering was known, I am not being smart here... I just read it in the guidebook) preserved all it covered and prevented the site's treasures from being looted.

And what bountious treasures they are. Stunning frescoes, Glorious Mosaics, A full city resplendant and complete with huge forums, markets, theathers, and arenas. Fortified walls all entoumbed and just waiting for excavation. It's staggering. Having been mildly disappointed by the Athenian ruins, this amazing place really enlivens the spirits and left me both awed and mistified at just how much European civilization slipped back when the Roman Empire fell. We were forced to drag ourselves away from this site as although we loved it, they weren't able to save as much as a pizzaria from the erruption and we were hungry.

Modern Pompei is a suburb of Naples, but a very attractive one and worth a few hours of wandering around in it's own right. We pottered around for a few hours before settling down to feast once more on the Neopolitican wonder food (I don't mean that chocolate, vanilla and strawberry icecream which I sadly didn't see any of) pizza. Ahh, food of the Gods, Well, fast food of the Gods anyway. Obviously this dish was washed down with a jug of vino and we retired as happily as two little piggies in their natuaral environment. Tomorrow we will fufill a long time ambition of mine and head to Assissi in Umbria.