The next morning, we check out of the hotel and drive half an hour south to the ruins of Pompeii. When I think about Pompeii, I think about my sister, Laura, as an elementary schooler, blond and blue-eyed and thin, whose favorite book was an early reader called Pompeii—Buried Alive! From that book, I learned everything I knew about Pompeii, which was very little: Mt. Vesuvius had erupted, burying the town and all of its inhabitants in volcanic ash. The ruins would not be rediscovered until the 16th century, some 1500 years after it had been destroyed.
When we realized that we would be passing through the town of Pompeii on our way to the Amalfi Coast, we decided to stop for the morning. We purchased our tickets the night before, from the Naples hotel room. Today, Pompeii is an UNESCO World Heritage Site, and visiting it is streamlined. There are parking lots and plenty of signage, pointing us toward the entrance. Entry is seamless: my mom displays the ticket barcodes on her phone and the attendant scans them with a handheld device. She asks, in English, if we want to book a tour guide, which we decline. Then she hands us a paper map, smiles, and we are on our way. It is sprinkling, so Sophia and I wear raincoats, my mom carries a black umbrella she brought from home, and Hannah wears a transparent plastic poncho.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Thank You Notes to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.