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POMP & ...... The Lonely Planet Guide warns not to drive in Naples. Quote: 'Nothing is orderly and regulation is observed with absolute discretion. Traffic lights are routinely ignored, as are one-way signs and just about every other road rule...forget driving in town unless you have a death wish.' It is certainly true to say that drivers display more caution when faced with a green light than a red - the assumption is that the other driver will not even slow down.
But some people shy away from a challenge and others grab it by the steering wheel and head right on in. After 10 minutes of driving in the city centre, I came to believe that my travelling companion was, in fact, Neapolitan in another life. As I covered my eyes with the guide book, he negotiated the traffic with a great deal of glee - running red lights, honking his horn, and speeding through the city faster than can be possible in any other earthly metropolis.
Naples, or Napoli to use its more suave Italian name, is a rather mixed-up place. Crime is depressingly obvious. If you survive long enough to actually park your car, there is a relatively good chance of it being stolen when you walk away.
Unsurprisingly, pickpockets make a good living there, as in any big city, but the level of organised crime does seem to set it apart from most. Napoli strives desperately to compete with Rome, and has been trying to clean up its act. But in truth, the only thing it does better than the capital is ice cream, and arguably, pizza.
This alone may be reason enough to visit, but despite its gastronomy, I found the best thing about Napoli was its close proximity to Pompeii. The two cities camp at opposite sides of the infamous Mount Vesuvius, though as history tells, it was the latter city which suffered due to its geographical location.
Of course we all know the story of that night in August 79 AD, when Pompeii perished. Those who did not have the foresight to flee were crushed or suffocated when the ancient city was encased in layers of ash and rock. Today, the uncovered ruins attract 1.5 million people every year.
Though at first, visitors gaze around like blissful tourists enjoying the afternoon sun as they stroll through the old city, it is not long until the true Pompeii dawns on them.
The ruins cover a vast acreage, and though there may be hundreds of other people there on the same day, it is almost certain that at some point during their wanderings they will end up alone on an ancient street. Magically, the solitude initiates a transformation in ones psyche whereby the place takes on new life - an irony which is impossible to miss.
Then Pompeii no longer feels dead; or an unreal place that we cannot relate to. (Though awesome, so many other ancient monuments around the world fail to inspire us in this way.) Instead, one gets the impression that PompeiiÕs inhabitants have simply stepped out for a moment and that they could be back at any time. Details of their lives begin to emerge; like deep grooves in the massive paving stones, indentations caused over time by horse drawn carts being pulled through the streets; even political comments painted on town walls can be seen; whilst the interior walls of the brothel are littered with graffiti left by prostitutes and clients alike.
The level of preservation is extraordinary. Some dwellings remain almost entirely intact, and it is obvious to see which were expensive, and which housed peasants. Many mosaics and wall paintings survive with only marginal fading, whilst temples conjure images of pagan festivals. In gardens, trees have grown again, and scruffy dogs lie sleeping on warm paving stones, adding to the impression that this is a ghost town, simply waiting for normal life to resume.
It is the body casts, and those of dogs and livestock, twisted and frozen in fear as they fought death, which remind us what happened here. Old Pompeii may be a massive tourist attraction, but it was in fact, a catastrophic natural disaster claiming many lives and forcing 20,000 people to flee their homes in terror. Vesuvius looms large and very real over the city it destroyed.
It remains visible to a present-day population who appear to be as unconcerned with its presence as those before them.
New Pompeii runs parallel to the old city, the two needfully separated by ancient walls since they would be impossible to blend. It is almost as an after-thought that you even notice this town. People flock to see ruins, New Pompeii simply provides hotels, tacky gift shops, and pizzerias or MacDonalds - whichever you prefer.
Although all this is true, it takes only minor observation and major luck to notice the real people who live there. Though we did not know it when we arrived, the Pope was coming to Pompeii.
....CEREMONY
The two of us had been having a debate all day about what was going on. Barriers were being lined along pavements; a giant TV screen erected at one end of the main street, and chairs were being set out in rows across the town square.
My companion thought it must be the Italian National Lottery draw, a huge event in the country since there are millions of Euros to be won and an excellent chance of success. Numbers in random order across the giant TV screen supported his argument that this monumental event was going to be broadcast live to every citizen in Italy.
My own deductions were more thorough however. Somehow he had missed a massive photographic banner of John Paul II hanging from a building in the main square. Add to that posters in every shop window proclaiming 'Il Papa in Pompeii', and I was beginning to get the picture.
Of course, I did not win the argument until it was confirmed to my companion (male) by the bartender at our hotel (also male). The Pope was indeed arriving in Pompeii the following morning. He would conduct a mass in the town square, travel up the main street, then like a mythical bird he will be gone. The anticipation of our bartender, aged at least 50, was like that of a child the night before Christmas.
This was a big thing. We were due to leave in the morning, continuing our trip south, but decided we had to have a look.
We left the hotel the next morning, leaving our key at reception where every single member of staff grouped around a TV set, perched on the edge of their chairs.
His helicopter landed in the ring of the old colosseum. From there he was rushed to the basilica where Il Papa addressed his flock, every frail word being beamed to the opposite end of the town. Pompeii was silent as it absorbed each sentence - only one week earlier the Pope had been forced to cancel his weekly mass in Rome, unable even to talk.
When the service was over the anticipation of the hundreds of people lining 800 metres of barriers was potent. Young girls and old women jostled for position, whilst vatican guards, heavily armed, paced back and forth, examining the crowd.
I am not Catholic. But I felt real excitement as we waited and strained to see further down the street.
We chatted to a woman next to us, she said she had never seen the Pope before and it was a great day for her. She was so short that she feared she would not see past the people in front, so she gave her camera to my companion and asked him to take some pictures for her. She said she would always treasure them.
The crowd chanted religious prayers over and over - not just the adults, but the children, let off school for the day, sitting together with their punk spiked hair. Without embarrassment, each person recited their mantra.
When John Paul II passed us by, the crowd erupted with as much force as Vesuvius. We cheered and sang 'long live the Pope', as he waved and smiled, despite the effort.
And then, just as the bartender had predicted, he was gone, though the emotion remained. Women cried and wiped at their eyes. A woman, in her 70's I'm sure, with tears streaming down her face looked at us happily and said in English that it was all too much. People stood on top of dustbins and grabbed handfuls of flowers that had decorated every lamppost, each desperate to take home a souvenir from the Great Day.
Then every person in Pompeii, or so it seemed, turned towards the sky and waved maniacally as the helicopter hovered and flew away.