A Smick Adventure, Part II: November 7-9

After two days of volcanic ruins and Amalfi breeze, the Smicks struck again, this time driving away from the Bay of Naples toward the ancient city of Paestum. Once called Poseidonia (before the Romans took over), this cosmopolis began as a Greek colony on the Italic peninsula and benefitted from the business of the international trading community; it was influenced not only by the Greeks but also by native Italic peoples like the Lucanians, Oscans, and Etruscans. Still, the layout of the city and much of its architecture had a distinctly Greek flavor that provided an interesting juxtaposition to the definitively Italic cities we'd seen thus far. (Thank you to Archaeology class for giving me the ability to make these distinctions.)

The first half of our stay we spent in another museum, which wasn't high on anyone's list of priorities after a lovely day of free time in Amalfi. Looking at the tomb paintings we'd studied in class was definitely a highlight, though, and we listened to some more interesting presentations from our classmates as we wandered amid the hunks of marble pediments and fragmented temple sculpture. But everyone was relieved to be released for lunch in the largely deserted little town before hitting the actual ruins in the afternoon.

Paestum/Poseidonia is most recognizably characterized by its three massive Greek-style temples on the edges of town. They're impressive, beautiful, and very well-preserved. But Paestum is also an interesting blueprint of a Greek-turned-Roman town that is less crowded and more hands-on than some of the other cities we visited. While lacking the notoriety and completeness of Pompeii, it had its own benefits including a former ekklesiastron (a very Greek circular construct designed for discussions in early democracy) and a heroon (a definitive Greek stamp of the city's founding and identity). It was a surprisingly enjoyable afternoon, therefore, to wander around the largely empty ruins, and it was capped off by another large meal back at the hotel in Pompei.

The next day, November 8, was one everyone had been anticipating: Capri. A little island off the coast known for its thriving tourist industry and gorgeous views, Capri was in its final weeks before shutting down almost completely for the winter. We were blessed with a perfect day, however, with plenty of warm sunshine but significantly lower crowds.

We took the hydrofoil (a little ferry) from the coastal city of Sorrento to Capri (pronounced KAH-pree, not ka-PREE like the juice). Most of us opted to take a boat tour to the Blue Grotto, a famous Caprese site; some - including me - decided to go on a private ride around the island as well. As we sailed through azure seas around magnificent cliff faces, our tour guides pointed out several other grotte - the Green Grotto, the Red Grotto, the White Grotto - and looped through towering rock formations off the Caprese coast. When we got to the Blue Grotto, we had to clamber three at a time into tiny wooden boats and lie flat on our backs while our guides maneuvered the difficult entrance into the Grotto itself.

Allow me to explain the scenario. My friend Sinead, my Archaeology professor, and I squished ourselves into the tiny boat behind the standing oarsman; I'd been warned about how small the entrance to the Grotto was, and I knew I'd have to duck to get inside, but at this point I couldn't even see an entrance. I just saw a line of these little wooden boats disappearing one by one into what looked like the water itself. Then I saw a minuscule opening in the cliff face itself barely visible above the rocking sea. At this point, I realized why we were going to have to lie down; the opening couldn't have been more than a meter tall. Our driver steered us forward and grabbed onto a rope that was threaded inside the Grotto, and then flung himself backwards...on top of us. He pulled us through the opening until we were inside. The water glowed an electric azure, brilliantly illuminated by daylight streaming into the dark cave from a gap beneath the surface. We sailed around the cave, our driver singing to us in Italian, captivated by the natural jewel-like luminescence. (Exiting the cave was just as thrilling as entering.)

Getting ready to enter the Blue Grotto!

The beautiful electric blue of the water

After the Grotto, a group of us hiked across the island to the top of one of the peaks to the ruins of the villa of Tiberius, Rome's second emperor. It provided unparalleled views of the spectacular coastline and a nice opportunity to sweat in the unseasonably warm sun. As the sun began to set, we sailed back to Sorrento and drove to Pompei for our last night.

At Tiberius' villa

The next day we went to the archaeological museum at Naples and enjoyed some famous Neapolitan pizza and coffee before heading to Cuma, a final ancient site that featured heavily in Virgil's Aeneid as the place where Aeneas consults the Sibyl and descends to the Underworld. I gave my second presentation - about the Cumaean Sibyl - and enjoyed exploring the fabled "Cave of the Sibyl" (which, my professor gently explained, was actually just a water cistern).

The "Cave of the Sibyl"

Returning to Rome a more unified group, we were nonetheless exhausted and ready for relaxing rest of the weekend.