Ruins, or ruined? Generally referred to as ‘scavi’ the ruins of five little towns around the base of Vesuvius are by far one of the most visited tourist sites in Italy. Local government also had the foresight to place a train station within a 5 minute walk of the original Pompeii remnants to make it easy for visitors to make it to the site and hand over their tourist dollars. The flood of people to this attraction also makes it easy for most everyone to find their way, similar to ants searching out that sugary treat.

We avoided such madness. Rather than venture from our current quiet solitude into complete and utter chaos, we opted for the second most popular site of Ercolano, anciently known as Herculaneum. A chance to sharpen up those navigating skills once again before hitting the road, since these days of relaxing have made both motivation and topics to write about a bit dull. A train ride into uncharted territory for us should spice things up a little.

The train was boarded in Sorrento. Graffiti as sparse on the walls of the train station, balanced with excess street art down the length of each rickety looking train. The system out this way is set up similar to a metro, with this Sorrento-Napoli line headed directly back into the territory of spray-paint skilled youth. Within a few minutes, a full complement of street buskers broke into classic Spanish tunes, including ‘La Bamba’…wait, is this Italy or Mexico? Three tunes were followed up with the usual pass around of the tambourine, likely an idea adapted from Sundays in church, before moving onto the next car for a few more tunes. This isn’t the casual wander through the car though, we’re talking targeted, aggressive donation asking as it was the tourists that were singled out of a fairly full train car and the collection vessel thrust into their laps. They were followed up with a woman with baby in hand, and it appeared she faired a little better with less of a performance and just a simple plea for assistance.

A bumpy and scenic ride through the not-so-pretty portion of the Sorrentine peninsula. Italian architecture hasn’t really changed a whole lot in 2000+ years, with square buildings and flat roofs. Many of these newer buildings are in disrepair, with stucco falling off exposing brickwork and concrete underneath. Rusty railings from proximity to sea air, construction that was just never finished, or buildings that have been abandoned for decades…it does make you wonder at times what might be a UNESCO protected ruin, and what might still be lived in? It’s the multiple TV antennae sticking out of the rooftops that ultimately gives it away, as well as the lack of ticket booths.

Ercolano was no exception, with the half kilometre walk from the train station to the ruin site marked with significant graffiti, gates around business patios, and a general uneasiness amongst the few turistas that decided to make the venture. We did stop for lunch at a little pizza joint which was excellent and cheap (by Sorrento standards), then made our way down to the ruins. An early start to the day meant we also wouldn’t have to meander our way back to the station in the twilight.

The ruins, very interesting! Apparently only a third of the unearthed city is available to stroll through now due to degradation, and likely tourist damage. I still find it amazing that such delicate floors are allowed to be walked on by the masses. These floors were a fascination of mine with the intricate detail and almost cork-like squish to them when walking. Preservation work is constantly underway and funds are now being diverted to preservation instead of uncovering more. An example of our curiosity killing our history, but at least we are trying to preserve it. How many previous generations considered such debris as just junk? The Vatican played the scavenger role in stripping the structures on the Palatine Hills for scraps of marble. It makes we wonder if some day concrete will be salvaged for its historical value instead of road fill.

We made it back in one piece, another sketchy train ride past pastel plastered buildings and graffiti decorated fences. Bed linens of pink and blue swinging from the balconies of each unit, slowly absorbing the smoke and unburnt gasoline scented air. Tired workers slouched over in their seats remaining just conscious enough to keep an eye on their belongings and when to get off. No rainbows and lollipops here folks.

I am sure the tourist haven of Capri will have a cheerier feel. Plus, there is no train line to get us there.