Journal Entry: National Museum Naples & Oplonti to Stabiae

I leave for Florence in the morning. Today was fun, if it did get off to a rough start. I woke up at 6:30a. I was very slow to get going. It was 7:15a before I left the hostel.

I missed the cappuccino place from yesterday. I must have walked right by it. I stopped at a different place. The girl was nice but it wasn’t as good. 

I got two bananas again from the nice lady at the top of the hill. I really like Portici. I’m not sure why.

I caught the Circumvesuviana line to Napoli Centrale. And this is where it gets interesting. The metro lines are just there. No maps, no signs, no ticket office. I’m thoroughly confused. So, I go to the Trenitalia information desk. The man tells me to go to the tourist information. They are closed. So I wander around, I went down to the platform for the metro, but there were no signs (surprise! The Italians must hate signage.) I walked back up the stairs and saw a Tabacchi shop. I asked the shop keep how to get to the National Museum. This was apparently the wrong question. He told me to go to the tourist information upstairs. I told him they are closed. He said they were open. Well, they weren’t, so I wandered around upstairs for a few minutes then decided to go back to the Trenitalia Information and ask some different questions. Like how to buy a ticket! 

Well, it turns out the Tabacchi shop sells them. I also think that you can use the same ticket on the Circumvesuviana line. Ah well, it’s only a few euros wasted! I bought a ticket from the Tabacchi shop and this time asked the right question of which track for the National Museum. He told me number four. The Italians are a strange lot. Much different than Americans. Once on the platform, I only waited a few minutes before a train came. I was near the front and saw one of the workers get off. I said “scuzi, parla l’inglese” and he said “a little.” And he meant it! I asked for the National Museum, but I couldn’t understand his response. So, he enlisted the help of the train driver! He spoke a little more English. He told me to take the next train and get off at the first stop and I would be there. I thanked him and stepped back to wait. Then he called to me and pointed for me to get on. So I did, and it is the stop v. Cavour that one wants. 

Once at the Cavour metro, there were no signs for the museum. I’m sure you are shocked, no?

I asked at a Tabacchi shop, they pointed down the street. I found it and was a little early.

Over all, I liked the museum. I don’t think it is worth the trouble unless you are really into art, archaeology or Pompei. It was a lot of trouble to get to, especially not knowing how to get there, and it wasn’t very big. And Naples is smelly and dirty, not much charm. Portici is a little dirty but has charm!

I did see the biggest statue I’ve ever seen. It was a whole scene in the round, a bull, three people, and a bunch of animals. The crazy thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a picture of it, in all the art history that I’ve had even! 

Amazing Sculpture in the National Museum of Naples

They also had a nice collection of erotic art from Pompei. I took a lot of pictures.

I was through about 11:40a. I checked out the gift shop but they didn’t have much. I keep seeing tiles I’d like to buy but am afraid they’d get broken. 

Since it was so early, I decided to go to Oplontis. I got on the wrong train on the Circumvesuviana line, the one going to Sorno instead of Sorrento. I don’t know what I was thinking. So I changed trains at Barra. Then I realized I didn’t know which line it was to Sorno, it might have been going to Oplontis. Anyway it was okay. At Oplontis it was nice. I got a Mortadella sandwich from a shop and ate it in the shade before going in.

Oplontis is very small. It’s really just one large villa. There are some very beautiful wall paintings. Unfortunately, my camera said the batteries were running low, so I didn’t take very many pictures. 

I stopped a Tabacchi shop and bought batteries. Only €4. It was a bit off the beaten path.

Then I had the brilliant idea to go to Castlemarre di Stabia, because I had seen the sign at the station for “Stabiae Scavi” – Stabiae ruins.

I first got on the wrong train again! My ticket was only good for a little longer so I decided to get off in New Pompei. That is the station V. and I wound up at [in ’09]. There are two lines and I didn’t realize it. Now I know a bit better, to be forgotten I’m sure by the time I come back here. And I do want to come back here! Everything except Naples is lovely.

I walked all the way from the New town at Pompei to the Pompei Scavi line. I toyed with the idea of just paying €11 to see more of Pompei. I decided against it. I saw online that all of the Archaeolgoical sites are open tonight until late. If I lived here and had a car (and was crazy enough to drive here!) I would so go. I believe admission is free. 

Anyway I bought a ticket to Stabia and one to get back to Portici. I walked down to the beach at Stabia, it’s only a block from the strain station. I had asked about the ruins, but the guy who sells Fuvicula [sic, Funivia] tickets told me it was 6km [Via Nocera is the closest Circumvesuviana station and it's about a mile from there - I should travel with a map, because it's actually only a couple of miles from Castellammare di Stabia, but you'd never find it without a map]. I walked around a bit [in the complete wrong direction in a misguided attempt to find the ruins] the[n] decided I should take the Fuvicula [sic] (I’ve forgotten what it’s called in English, Funicula?) In Western NC we’d call it a lift. It’s not like a ski lift though where you sit down, you stand up in a car.

It cost €7.50. I wish I had just done it to begin with because the last car was 20 minutes after I got to the top. It was thoroughly worth the view though. There was a very impressive view of Vesuvius. I took lots of pictures and video too. [as of last fall, the attraction is closed until sometime in 2014]

The Ride Up

At the top of Mt. Faito

Next time I would like to walk around up there, I think there are walking trails.

After a short panic, where I hoped the guy had sold me a return ticket (being stuck up there was scary), a shop guy at the top confirmed that the ticket was round trip, I went back down. 

I went back to the hostel. On the train there were some young men playing instruments, one an accordion. I’m always impressed how they manage to stand while playing on the train. I filmed them for a bit then gave them €.50. They went on down the train. No one had given them any money. A lady standing next to me said in English, “You shouldn’t give them money! It only encourages them!” I said, “At least they are doing something for it, instead of begging on the street.” That really got to me. You’d have thought they were doing something terrible. I thought they played well too. Maybe they were gypsies? I can’t tell. They might have been Roma, but who cares, at least they are trying to earn money and not picking peoples’ pockets. I just can’t fathom it. I have no patience for intolerance racism or class-ism. 

Anyway, I got some mortadella from a butcher shop down the street, on the narrow stret by the hostel, where I’m surprised pedestrians aren’t mowed down LOL! I also bought a coca light from reception. The mortadella was only €1.10. The beer was cheaper at reception, a can of soda was €1.50. I haven’t been drinking much soda here.

The narrow street by the hostel - cars come flying down it

I also got some gelato on the way to the hostel, nutella flavored and chocolate and I think peanut butter or nut flavored. “Nocciotella” or something like that. They were all very delicious. 

I am going to lay down now and read some of Rick Steve’s “Provence.”

Journal Entry: Paris, Descent into the Underworld

We woke up at 8am. Breakfast was bread and cereal. These people seriously need to learn the joys of breakfast tacos. One of the Australians we met last night asked me to help him book his ticket on the SNCF website. You have to put Great Britain as your country or it won't work with the English version. It's quite retarded in that way. The other two Australians have checked out which is too bad. In their place are two annoying French people, a couple. They were cuddling on the bed. PDA. Get a private room, srsly. Seriously I mean. Too much IM'ing for me I suppose.

Then we had the adventure of finding our way to the correct station for the Catacombs. We finally did, but I wasted a metro ticket because I didn't realize I could use the same one changing lines. It's not at all like any other metro I've ever used before.

The signs, as usual, were quite ambiguous for the Catacombs. There was one outside the metro station, but then no more. I stopped in a McDonalds to get a diet coke. It was €3 and didn't have ice. It was cold though, but I'd like a bit of ice in my drink. I then stopped in a "Tabac" shop and asked the shopkeeper where the catacombs were. He, I'm sure, realized I didn't speak much French and replied in English and pointed down the street. I thanked him, (despite the stereotype, people in Paris are a LOT nicer than in other cities this size, like London and New York) and we went in the direction he said and sure enough we saw a long line for them.

My sister in the catacombs

Turns out they can only have 200 people in there at once because of the emergency exits, they don't accommodate many and there's not a lot of room down there either.

We had to wait about forty five minutes, but it was well worth it. It was over 100 steps down and I got dizzy going down them, as it was a spiral stair case. Then we had to walk down a very long twisty corridor. After a while we came to the bones. So many people, or rather, what once were people. They used to be buried in a mass grave, I think the info said, but were dug up and interred in the catacombs because of disease. Back in the 19th century, people would go down there with only candles. I think that's damned crazy. It was very interesting at any rate.

When we climbed the 83 steps to get back to the world of the living, it was raining. It had been sunny when we went in. I told V. we were like Persephone, descending into the underworld and causing winter. I did think it was interesting that one of the wells was named after the River Lethe.

An American couple from Indiana that we had been talking to in line before going in, came out right behind us. They helped us find the Metro station (one comes out in a different place). She had been reading Rick Steves, so knew all about it.

"Il est quelque fois plus avantageux de morir que de vivre."

"Croyez que chaque jour est pour vous le dernier." -Horace

Luckily it didn't rain much, we found the metro station and took the line for the Eiffel Tower. The second bank of ticket machines wouldn't take our tickets, even though we hadn't gone anywhere with them. A metro worker helped us out and let us through.

The Eiffel tower is ugly. We spent too much time looking for a post office. Then we ate a late lunch. Pizza at a place across from the Eiffel Tower metro stop. It was a bit much, but very good. €13 for pizza and a drink. The cheese was especially delicious.


Then we walked to the Museé d'Orsay. By the time we got there, it was too close to closing time to justify €8 for admission. They close at 6pm, but clear the galleries at 5:30 and it was after 4:30 by the time we got through the line. I'll have to see it some other time.

So we checked out their gift shop. Everything was overpriced. Then we walked over to the Louvre and saw the glass pyramids. It was very nice. We're going there tomorrow.

Then we went shopping on a street by the Louvre, mostly tourist crap. I bought a shot glass for Tommy (our IT guy) and some key chain bottle openers for the guys at work.

We went back to the hostel. I got a sandwich from a boulangerie/patisserie just down from the hostel. It was only €2.90. I sat down in the café downstairs, and V. ordered fries and a soda and I ordered a glass of wine from the "Pays d'Oc", where we had just come from. Did I mention I love the Pyrenees? It was only €2 because it was "happy hour".

My left leg has a charlie horse in the calf muscle. Too much walking and climbing to mountaintop fortresses. Shower, bed. I miss Andy. I wish he could have come with me, but he'd hate traveling like this.

Journal Entry: Onward Paris

We got up about 7am this morning and cooked some eggs and toast for breakfast. Then we made sure Katy was up because she was going to hitch a ride into town with us.

We walked over to Preixan for the first time. It was very small, not much to see. Just the little church and an ancient tower. The church would have probably been cool to see on the inside, but according to the Scottish girl, who's name escapes me, who was working at the hostel, it is rarely open.


Then we turned in our key, got Katy and drove to Carcassonne. Getting gas was much less of a fiasco than yesterday. Katy taught me how to say “Do you take cash?” in French. “Prenez vous déspece.” I don't know if I've spelled that right. Probably not. She talked to the people for me though. Then we parted ways after finding a parking space.

We went to look for food and I found a patisserie shop on the square de Centre Villa (the new town) that looked good and bought a chicken sandwich and a pastrie. V. bought a brownie to split later on the train.

Then we went back to the car, and drove it to the train station. The “reserve Avis” spot was free, so we parked there, not far from the waiting area. I took the key to the counter and said in garbled French that I needed to return the car.

The man understood me but then said something really fast that I didn't understand. Repeating it didn't help. I need to remember to ask them to speak slower, but I get flustered. “Lentment, s'il vous plait!” V. understood what he was getting at, and she doesn't speak any French.

He was pointing me to a woman in blue, which I should have comprehended but as I said, he was speaking too fast.

She took our keys, signed off on the rental agreement, and we sat down and waited. We were an hour early which was good. V. went across the street to get McDonald's (again!).
I decided to wait to eat my sandwich until I got on the train. It was a very, very good sandwich too. The train ride was uneventful and boring. Stared at the countryside and wrote out some postcards.

We arrived in Paris a little late, a little after 6pm. We found the metro, with the help of a map and a man miming which way to go. We found an information desk, and the man was very helpful and spoke great English. He told us which line to take and where to buy our tickets.
We waited a while in line to buy our tickets and when I got up there the agent said he didn't speak English. Lies! I heard him speak English to an obnoxious Asian tourist. But whatever. It forced me to ask in garbled French for a 'carnet' of tickets, and he understood me! Yay! I was quite happy with myself. So now we are at the hostel. We are staying at St. Christopher's in Paris. It is nice. We ate dinner in the bar downstairs, mine was €13, but we were tired and didn't feel like looking for anything else. The burger and fries were good. I really need to find French food tomorrow.

The showers were nice, they had a place to hang clothes and were fairly private. Now it is bed time, we have a long day tomorrow.

I miss the Pyrenees.