Journey to the Center of Italy

So, I’ve pretty much seen all I want to see, done all that I want to do. I was in Rome for only one day. I attribute my speed and efficiency to the fact that I planned meticulously and bought my tickets ahead of time so as to avoid the queues reaching to infinity. *Pat on the back.*

Last night I had a Mexican meal with a friend from high school who is an intern for the State Department here in Rome. It was nice to meet a bunch of Americans and talk about crap while watching the USA lose to Ghana. (Did I really just say that? You never thought you’d hear me with any sport spirit at all.) In my discussions (after everybody became aghast at my statement “I’ve seen all that I care to see”), I decided I would take a day trip, since I probably won’t come back to Italy for a very long time. Naples sounded good because it’s only 2 hours away and has some pretty exciting stuff on its periphery, like the Mediterranean.

So this morning I hopped on a train (at 7:30am, mind you) and was whisked away to the home of Pizza. The train was not very pleasant (even though it was one of the nicer trains.) No air conditioning and seats in compartments which one must share with 5 other people. The window was forcefully closed by an angry Italian lady who screamed things at me (I have no idea what; probably something like “It’s not hot enough in here for me. Why don’t you go back to the north where you can be a heat wussy?”) Anyway, so I had a seat reservation, but somebody was sitting in it. I didn’t have the necessary innards to ask them to politely move, so I just sat somewhere else. This turned into a chain reaction until I finally confessed that I don’t know any conversational Italian. I can say “Thank You” and “Goodbye.” One of the other people in the compartment spoke English, so we sorted out the whole fiasco with minimal physical or emotional harm. My seat was in the middle of two people. It was an awkward 2 hours.

When I arrived, all was great except I was bombarded with all of the things that make a visit uncomfortable: gypsy cabs, street vendors with their fake Prada and Dolce & Gabbanna paraphernalia splayed across the sidewalk. Luckily I was only going to be in the city for a few minutes. I bought my ticket to Herculaneum and dashed off.

So, I was once again I was confronted with an issue: too many people getting too close to me. I think this issue wouldn’t have been as severe if I were back in good ol’ Germany where people aren’t quite as, well, Italian. There are many social norms that are quite jarring to me, and being the lone tall, blonde, white guy on a train platform really exacerbated by discomfort. Normally I would have just brushed off this feeling, but it is a feeling I felt while in Rome and also around the Italian foreign exchange students. So I feel this is the perfect time to make known my observations.

Italians are very shifty people. This does not mean that they are all untrustworthy. It just means that their continual sharp movement and quick glances in many directions and inability to stand still really makes me nervous. They also smoke like no other. In the US and Germany, smoking is forbidden in most public places and is strongly enforced. Here, people just light up standing in a subway platform, in the train station, waiting in line for a ticket, or (like one person) even on the train itself. In fact, my server at lunch was smoking a cigarette while taking my order (inside, I will add), and still had it in her mouth as she brought out my pizza. They then promptly throw the butt in the street, where it becomes one of many amassed butts accumulated since the last street sweeper sometime last millennium.

Another thing doesn’t really have to do with PEOPLE so much as a company. Italians are “validate” happy. I bought a ticket and I had to validate it. What? I just bought a ticket for the 7:36 train. Why do I need to validate it? It says on the ticket “7:36am to Naples.” You mean you’re going to fine me if I don’t stick that paper into a machine to receive information that is already on the card? No sense.

And then the validation machines were broken! I had to run amok through the train station to find a line of people validating their tickets. That’s dumb. If you’re going to force a dumb validation, make sure the validating machines work.

Anyway, beyond the annoying inflection in their voice (which always makes me feel like I’m being yelled at) and the hand gestures, I’m sure they’re nice people. I would just need some time to get used to them.

Anyway. So I went to Herculaneum, one of the Vesuvius victims. Based on the advice of a former Latin teacher and a few people who made the mistake, I chose this place over Pompeii. It was a good choice. The place was almost empty of tourists and it didn’t require any excess bus trips or haggling with unpleasant people. It was nice and enjoyable.

So the difference between Herculaneum and Pompeii is that H was covered with lava whereas P was covered with ash. As a result, the stuff in H is better preserved (because it was covered by rock instead of ash.) The buildings were really cool and they looked like a present handed down from the past. I was most impressed by the walls, which were painted and looked pretty impressive. The marble floors were cool, too. I think I’ll devote an entire blog to Herculaneum, so look out for it in the near future.

Tomorrow is my last day in Rome. I have the entire morning free, so I’m going to pay that gigantic fee to walk amongst the ruins of the Palatine Hill and then high-tail it back to Germany, where the trains are air-conditioned.