Monte Vesuvio! (or, Ryan Vs. The Volcano!)

Sunday had been set aside all weekend for an afternoon at Mount Vesuvius. When we arrived at the Pompeii train station, we assumed that everything would run smoothly- we would wait 10-15 minutes and be up at the volcano by noon. But in Italy, when you rely on public transportation as your only means of conveyance, something inevitably will go wrong.

After purchasing a 9 euro ticket for a ride to the summit, we waited for the bus. And waited some more. And some more. Now, this whole time we were waiting, taxi drivers kept approaching us and telling us to ride with them to the crater. Since we had already purchased our bus tickets, we refused a ride each time. Finally, we had been waiting for an hour and a half, when the bus arrived! Except, it wasn't our bus- it was a bus to Salerno.

Clearly sensing our frustration, a smooth talking cab driver named Sento approached us. And he made us a bargain that was too good to refuse. Since the buses clearly weren't running, he would take our tickets as the cab fare (which actually is a much better deal for us). Apparently, he was friends with the train station employees and could refund the price- something we were not allowed to do. So we hopped in his cab and up the hill we went. Now, Sento is a very funny man. He kept calling me "Bryan" in a very strong Italian accent. The most memorable line of the morning came when I was trying to negotiate to make sure he wouldn't scam us at the end- he replied, "Brryyaaan, why you no trust me? Look ata my face-a. It is-a rich-a face-a. I woulda steal 1 milliona euroa froma you, but nota 10 euroa. That means nothing to me." Good thing I had left my million euro stash back at the Villa.

Up the mountain, Seto gave us a first-rate tour, pointing out lava flows, ancient statues, monuments to the victims of Vesuvius, German backpackers, touristy restaurants, and points of interest in the scenery (including the island of Capri, which really does resemble an alligator from a distance). He found out that we were studying Italian- so he mixed English with a smattering of Italian phrases. By the end of the ride, abbiamo parlato solo in italiano.

We had exactly one hour to explore the crater of the volcano. The hike to the crater, which was said by Rick Steeves to take at least 30 minutes, took our young (but tired) legs a mere 12 minutes. This meant we had extra time to savor the view of the Bay of Naples as well as the enormous crater below us.

Jimmy Buffet, in his infinite wisdom and poetic mastery, once wrote "I don't know where I'm-a-gonna go when the volcano blows." I don't know where he's going. I probably wouldn't know either. But I know that when the volcano is not blowing, I definitely recommend making the trek to Vesuvius- for the views, for the jokes about taking the ring of power to Mordor, for the snowballs, for the rocks that you steal for your friends back at home. There was no better way to end the weekend.

PICTURES TO COME LATER