“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain

Monday, February 6, 2012

Day 3: Pompeii and Misery

Pompeii and Vesuvius
One day I'll look back on today and smile. But right now I'm resisting the urge to plow my face straight into a wall, mercifully. Ever since we arrived at the hotel, I've been having sneezing fits whenever we're in the room. Once I'm out I'm fine. I figure it's allergies. I awoke congested and figured it would pass once we left the hotel. We headed to Termini station for our two hour train ride to Naples, and inside found a bar serving breakfast baked goods and coffee. Like every other Italian, I stepped up to the bar and ordered a cappuccino and cornetto. Stirred in two sugars and quickly drank my cup standing up at the bar, scooping out the foam at the end. Perfecto.

We boarded for the two hour journey but by time I got off the train, I was miserable. These sneezes just might turn into something. This was no allergy. We transferred to another train 30 minutes south to Pompeii and began to walk the site.

Alone in Pompeii
We practically had the place to ourselves. It was a cold grey day but at least there was no rain or snow. But oh, the wind. Between my congestion which by now had turned into a full-blown cold, and my eyes tearing up from the wind, I couldn't get back inside to warmth fast enough. I had one Benadryl on me that worked for a while, but wore off before we completed Pompeii. I was stumbling, tripping over my own feel with ill confusion. I couldn't stop sneezing, nor could make any decisions. We forgot to pick up a site map. I'm sure we missed some highlights of Pompeii, but we did manage to sneak our way into some closed off sections and get some great shots. It wasn't all bad and I'm still glad we saw this site. A snow-topped Vesuvius loomed overhead with dark green cypress tress framing it. Gorgeous. But I was done. We spent maybe under 2 hours in there before I was calling "uncle".

Misery had befallen me. I wasn't going to buy any medicine in a foreign country and try to wait until we were back at the hotel for more Benadryl, but I was in the throes of this cold. On the subway ride back to Naples, our train broke down for a half hour. We stood in the cold waiting for another train. At this point on the platform I nearly lost it. No medicine, no remedy, shivering, exhausted, and sneezing. When we FINALLY arrived in Naples, there was no room on the next train so we decided to take the one that departed the next hour. I ran to a pharmacy and explained my ailments. After reading the ingredients as best I could in Italian on the box the pharmacist recommended ("okay for ah-choo??") and seeing that it contained paracetamol (which meant it wasn't ibuprofen, yay!) I washed it down and waited for our train. And waited. And waited. It was delayed for an undetermined time.

Carrie was kind enough to not tell me that she noticed other trains were also delayed, which helped keep me calm. Mostly because I was in no mood for funny business. Although I wanted to throw an epic tantrum at feeling so miserable and consistently cold it wouldn't be fair to her, nor should I create my own drama in the train station. Luckily, there was other drama that pleasantly distracted me for a bit. A customer and train service person in a shouting match, red faces and hand gestures included. It was spectacular. So Italian. I would be nice if I could express myself that way at work and it be perfectly acceptable.

I still had no common sense. Struggled to exit the bathroom stall, or find a toilet in the first place, to make change, and I probably would have forgotten my name if someone had asked. An hour and 30 minutes later we're finally under way to Rome, if this train is headed in the correct direction. What is important is that it's warm in here and I can finally unbutton my coat for the first time in 12 hours. Carrie is seated a few rows up and maybe it's for the better that she get a break from my sneezing, dripping self. Carrie said I was wheezing in my sleep and this isn't a good sign. I can't set foot in that hotel room again without a face mask and we have two more nights to go. I asked the front desk to keep it allergen-free, but perhaps I'm allergic to something foreign in there and there isn't a thing to be done about it. Here's to hoping that the hotel in Paris treats me better.

What seems like a millennia later we have found our way back to the hotel. I picked up a couple face masks at a pharmacy and will sleep with one on. Oy. We popped into a pizzeria for dinner and devoured a few slices with the ferocity of a Roman orgy. I don't know what they do to the pork in this city, but the cured ham is out of this world. Last night I had the best damn hot cocoa ever, thick and chocolaty with extra sugar and whipped cream. Tonight we're finishing with a cheese platter and hot tea. Tomorrow, the Vatican. I hope to spend most of it indoors.

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