Day 9- 10 Getting into the garbage with a lurker

Warning, this is a long one, so pull up a chair and  I hope you have your reading glasses on!

Day 9 of the trip was mostly spent taking the train from Lecce to Castellammare di Stabia, a sleepy little seaside town at the southern end of the Bay of Naples, just before the Sorrentine Peninsula begins. I skipped over the Amalfi coast because Marianne wasn't with me to take in a romantic sunset, and because it's not a good area to save money, being mostly geared to higher end tourism, which leaves me out! Honestly, as much as I do love good cooking, I am just as easily satisfied with picking up the local stuff at the market and eating simply: tomatoes, some arugula, a smoked cheese or some fresh mozzarella, maybe a little marinated vegetables, and a bit of chocolate or a gelato. Done! For the equivalent price of an appetizer in a low end restaurant.

Wandering in the streets of Castellammare di Stabia made me feel like I was in an old Fellini movie. Very normal people, and no tourists at all.

Because we were mostly eating as a group for the conference in Lecce, I hadn't really stocked up on anything when I left town on the train at 7 am, and all the connections (I took 5 different trains to get to Stabia!) didn't have much layover time, so by the time I got there I was pretty hungry. I found my little B&B with a bit of luck and a friendly local who knew where it was exactly, and as soon as I was settled I took off to see the town, which I had visited two years ago with Marianne. The first thing that struck me was the piles of garbage everywhere! They must be having a strike there ( I never did learn the true story) because last time it was not at all like that. I made my way down to the seafront and was somewhat surprised to see that the entire beach area was cordoned off with construction barriers that hid everything! I say somewhat because the last time we came it seemed in serious need of a makeover, with a weedy trolley track that seemed unused, and a dirty beach devoid of all people (on a very hot day!) I walked along it for a bit until I saw some kids slipping through a chink in the fences, and I followed them down to the beach, where a few kids were playing soccer at the far end, but which was generally deserted.

Most of the places along the beach north of Stabia (going towards Pompeii) seem to completely ignore the waterfront. Imagine if they built like this in Hermosa Beach! As always, Vesuvius lurks in the background!

The beach there has a very odd character, with much of the architecture ignoring it completely, unlike anything you'd find in the US. At the water's edge, I found bits of lapilli, the little balls of pumice that rained down unmercifully on Pompeii, and I tossed a handful into the water to see they'd float. Yup, they did. Even a chunk as big as a baseball sat on top of the waves! Vesuvius' shadow seems to lurk behind every corner, casting it's warning glare over the whole area, as if to say "enjoy it now, suckers,  because it won't last forever!" It's truly frightening to think of another eruption on that scale at the present time, with buildings that go right up the flank of the volcano, and it's not a question of if, only of when. Vesuvius is in fact deemed to be close to another eruption in the next 100 years or so, though that's probably about as accurate as weather prediction.

Kids playing soccer on the edge of the forlorn beach. They'll have great memories of this after it all gets fixed up and nobody can use it.

I got down to the other end of the beach, where you can clearly see two things- the 9th century castle from which the town takes its name, and the now defunct gondola, which closed some time ago, but left the structure going all the way up to the top of the hills south of town. Looks like it must have been an amazing view of the Bay from up top of the mountain. Speaking of mountains, I was pleasantly surprised by the journey from Lecce, which was far greener and hillier than I had expected to see. From Brindisi, on the Adriatic coast, the train had crossed the peninsula to Taranto, a busy port on the Ionian, then skirted the coast for a while through large stands of pine trees that reminded me of New Jersey's forests. Then it became hilly, green farmland that looked like Northern California…with castles. Slowly it became a mountainous area that was quite green and covered with dense forests like the Adirondacks, while we descended alongside a river for a long time before finally reaching the plain that led to Salerno, the city on the southern side of the Sorrento peninsula, where I changed trains again, finally crossing the last bit of hills and into the bay of Naples, where I found my last connection to take me back southward to Stabia.

Somewhere between Taranto and Salerno. Just like Central California....with castles!

After checking out the beach I finally got a gelato. I have a weird thing when I get hungry- I kind of go into overdrive, and I'm not yearning for food, but I know that if I don't eat I'll conk out eventually. The gelato was holding me though, so I walked back towards the hotel and shopped for a belt and a jacket, which I needed because it has been surprisingly cool here. I had it on all day today, which is amazing considering last time we were here it was around 100 degrees a lot of the time! Makes it soooo much easier when it's not boiling! I grabbed a few things at a corner store, had an in room meal, and hit the bed by 10:30 for the first time in two weeks!

This beautiful little alley on the way to the ruins was completely lined with garbage, but it couldn't ruin the wonderful morning for me!

The next day I got up and had the breakfast they offered, then headed out to see the two Roman villas that sit up on a bluff above the town. There are actually around eleven villas that were explored and mapped here in the 18th century, but most of them were reburied and the rest are not generally viewable. I knew the route from our former trip here, and the weather this morning was extraordinary- clear and refreshing- just about perfect weather for exploring. As I got to the entrance of the first villa, called the Villa Arianna, there was a small tour group just ahead of me with a mixed bunch of mostly Brits and Americans, and I sort of tagged along because I thought the guide was pretty good, and had very little accent (or attitude) to overcome. Me being me, I sort of opined on a couple of things about the paintings, and the very friendly guide invited me to join with them to walk around the place.

One of the advantages of being with this tour group is that they opened a couple of rooms I hadn't gone in last time here, including this gigantic atrium of the second complex villa at Arianna

 Both of these villas were seaside getaways for very wealthy families. They had large rooms that were very well decorated, private bath areas, large exercise fields, and one had an exquisite swimming pool down the middle of it. They sat on a bluff that was once directly over the waves, though they sit about a quarter mile inland now due to the fill left by the volcanic detritus. Nowadays they look out over a large sea of rooftops before you see the ocean.

I think the rebuilt upper walls and roof of this atrium at Villa San Marco give you a better sense of the space- plus the protect the walls from moisture.

They are also generally in better shape than the houses at Pompeii due to the fact that they have been extensively rebuilt with protective upper walls and roofs, which I personally like, as I think it gives a better impression of what the spaces were like then, especially the atria, where you first entered the house, and where much of its business centered. Of course these were pleasure places, so there wasn't a lot of business going on there, other than running the household, which must have been quite an undertaking, considering their size and all the features they had.

The crazy faux marble room at the entry of the Villa Arianna second complex was closed last time too!

The servants and slaves must have been an army, and I often think they were seen more or less the way we see our appliances today, which explains why it wouldn't have been strange to be naked around them or that they would be constantly at hand to offer any convenience needed. Of course some were educated and even rose to take a place in high society, either by promotion by their owners, or by saving enough money to buy themselves out of bondage. Others, like those who stoked the fires of the baths, did not have an easy life and probably had little hope to advance.

One more detail of the trompe l'oeil work in that small vestibule



The tour guide offered to give me a lift on their bus to the other villa, which I accepted and did not regret, as it was a tad longer than I had remembered. The little plateau the villas sit on is amazing farmland due to the volcanic soil, and the gardens up there are dense with all kinds of stuff; I saw citrus trees, stone fruit trees, olives, grapes, tomatoes, onions, lettuces, broccoli, zucchini, all looking absolutely perfect and much denser planting than anything you'd see in the States. I wish we could grow something like that at home! 

A woman picking up cuttings on her farm next to the Villa San Marco. Everything was just about to start ripening now.

We toured the second villa (San Marco) again with the guide, who was born in the US, but grew up in Italy and lives in Vicenza, up in the north. They offered me lunch with them, but I declined in order to spend a bit more time shooting photos and doing a recreation of the design of the walls of the peristyle there. I had brought some snacks with me and repeated the repast that Marianne and I had done here two years ago, sitting under the sycamore trees by the swimming pool, imagining the splashing and squealing of bathers that must have sounded a lot like today. I walked back into town past the farms and got some fresh picked cherries from a farm stand (I really wanted to climb the trees I saw there and pick them myself!)

View from the peristyle of San Marco. Guess who's peeking!

Grabbed my things from the B&B, got the train and took the short ride up to Pompeii, where I'm sitting in the hotel tapping this out as the sun goes down, looking forward to a third visit to the site, and hoping that it isn't as limited as the last time I came, when I was very frustrated by closures. I took about 325 pics today, which feels more like my norm for these trips, having been slacking in Lecce and while in transit. 

Vesuvius can be seen everywhere, even from Paris (aka Kiddie Park in Pompeii town) 

Pic o' the Day #1317- Happy Friday!

Detail of a decorative column used as a panel division in the Villa Arianna at Stabia. Very delicate and refined work.

Pic o' the day #1315- "Sit Down! You're blocking the view!"

In the world of Roman painting, there are four periods, or styles, which are used to guess at the age of the decorations. They were originally delineated and described by the German archaeologist August Mau, 1840 – 1909, who ran the digs at Pompeii and published numerous illustrations of what they found to raise money to continue the projects.

Page from Mau, Pompeii, It's Life and Art.  You can view and download this entire book here

I won't go into detail on the styles right now (save that for another post!) but just skip ahead to the third and fourth styles, which were the last to be used before Vesuvius blew and encapsulated everything for 1700 years. In the third and fourth styles there is often found a division of the visual spaces into tiers both vertical and horizontal that seem to some (including me) to be a reflection of the scenae frons, which was the vertical stage front of Roman theaters.

Model of the scenae frons at the Theater of Marcellus in Rome. Actors could appear on all levels, creating a very dynamic staging. Imagine if they'd had spotlights!

Here's a couple of shots of murals in Stabia and Oplontis. It is easy to see how they relate to the stage front, with their protruding balconies and numerous openings. In addition, the dramatic poses of figures framed by these kinds of murals, as well as depictions of the masks of classical dramas would seem to be clear reference to the stage.

Mural in the Villa of Arianna at Stabia.  Notice the mask from the drama sitting on the white balcony area at right.

Mural in the Villa of Poppaea at Oplontis has architecture that is similar to what one finds on the scenae frons. This mural would actually be considered to be in the second style, with a hearty trompe l'oeil emphasis that was later generally dropped.

Here is how an artist has interpreted the decor of the House of Augustus (Rome) in terms of a small stage front. From Thomas Gordon Smith's Vitruvius on Architecture (Monacelli, 2004)

Pic o' the Day #1314- Back to Grandma's

Here are some shots of another antique house with an all over pattern that very much resembles wallpaper patterns of many centuries later. This was of course not printed but entirely hand painted by skilled craftsmen. (They didn't even have paper  to speak of at that time, let alone printing technology.)
It is one of many very fine rooms at the Villa Adriana (or Arianna) in Stabia, which was once hanging on a seaside cliff, but is now about a quarter mile inland due to the shoreline being extended by volcanic debris.

This villa must have belonged to a very wealthy person, with mosaic floors, the deep red socle with golden decorations in a refined style, and the upper portion covered in carefully painted ornaments. The ceiling also would have been painted and/or covered with plaster ornament.

The panel at the bottom center is a digital replacement for the real one, which was removed and sent to Napoli in the 1750's, when these sites were first being uncovered. Even though the photo is a bit jarring, I still prefer it to a blank panel.

Decorations in the overall pattern include birds, flowers, shields and figures

detail of one of the figures

Day 29- Stabia in the back, Pompeii (Say it out loud, you'll get it)

(Originally posted on facebook July 10, 2013)

After our disappointing day at the mostly shuttered ruins of Pompeii yesterday, we headed out to unknown quarters, the recommended but remote ruins of Stabia Castellamare, sort of the Malibu of Pompeii, where wealthy people built their palatial retreats on a bluff overlooking the sea. Just as at Pompeii and Herculaneum, the sea is now a good half mile further out due to volcanic and river deposits etc., but it is still very clearly seen from the yards of the two villas we were able to visit there. In fact, there is a great view of the whole Bay of Naples from the houses, which are nestled up against the hills that continue out to the Sorrentine Peninsula. 

delicious looking gardens abound in the area of Castellamare

The overall feeling there today was very tropical, from the warm air and afternoon rain, to the loud and warm people, who seemed to be more comfortable in the heat, unlike their northern neighbors, who run for shade during the middle of the day. As we got off the train in town, we sat down to peruse the computer map I had saved from earlier. A short, very friendly woman asked us some mostly unintelligible questions and then kept beckoning us to follow her. I could tell she had some kind of speech impediment, but it wasn't till later that I realized that she was deaf, which explained her touching us to get us to look at her so she could lip read. It was feeling a bit strange, and I could understand about one word in ten, but she lead us straight to the water fountain by the stadium, which was on the way to the Villa site, and then she turned off with some friends after friendly kisses and hugs. 

So we kept on through the thronged streets, passing lovely fish stalls and fresh fruit markets, on out to the edge of the small town, then up the street with a small sign for the site. Houses all had amazing gardens, and as we got further up the street, they turned to orchards with gardens interspersed, all full to bursting with produce: tomatoes everywhere, long purple eggplants, flowering zucchini, plums, peaches, and all kinds of citrus, including the local giant lemons, which are the size of footballs. There were a couple of tiny fruitstands where we bought some delicious peaches- I'm lamenting that my picture taking seems to be so focused on art only- these stands were so classic.

Approach to the Villa San Marco leaves you scratching your head saying, "did I read that sign correctly?"

After about 20 minutes on the road, we spotted the entry to the Villa San Marco, walking down a dirt road that led past a field of produce to a funky little assembly of shacks and farmhouses, four or five lazy dogs lying around, and a small, barely visible sign pointing to the entrance. A nice lady came out to ask us to sign the guest book (they didn't want out tickets at all) and she pointed us down the hill to the entrance.

After you pass the ramshackle entrance area, you walk down the entry of the Villa. 

This house was LARGE! And residential feeling. Unlike most of Pompeii, the house's walls have been completed back to their original height and roofed, which gives you a much better feeling for what the spaces were like, and it protects the walls (and us) from (some) of the damaging effects of exposure. We were the only ones at the site, which was also very nice. An employee came and monitored us for about 5 minutes, then she disappeared. We were free to roam anywhere that wasn't cordoned off, which was very nice. You really get a sense of how nice this house must have been, with pleasant sea breezes and a very large central swimming pool surrounded by trees (about which they know exactly how big and placement by the plaster replacement technique I mentioned yesterday). There was an outrageously nice bath area that had Marianne really pining for a spa day, which we have not managed to figure out here.

Pool area of the Villa San Marco, where we sat and ate lunch with nobody but the ghosts of 2,000 year old residents.

After about an hour here, we headed out for the other site, the Villa Arianna, about twenty more minutes down the road. They have located and mapped about 6 large villas in the area, but these two are the only ones open to the public at present. The entry to Arianna was similar to San Marco (ie- subtle!) and the house was too. Very large rooms with spectacular views. Not quite as homey feeling as San Marco, but really special. Both houses were decorated mostly with fourth style decorations, which are somewhat sparser, but the feeling overall is quite rich and varied. 

Part of the bath complex at the Villa San Marco.

Unfortunately they were also both part of the earliest explorations of the area under the Bourbon rulers in the 18th century, who had the rude habit of removing fresco bits for display elsewhere- most are now in the Archeological Museum in Naples. They have replaced the missing bits in many of the spaces with photo reproductions, which while not as good as the real thing, are certainly better than nothing at all. 

Awesome "wallpapered" room at the Villa Adriana. The panel at bottom was removed to the Archeological Museum in Naples, but at least you get some idea of the look from the copy placed there.

Still, there's plenty to see, and the lack of crowds and barriers made it really pleasant. As we were exploring Arianna, the daily rainstorm with lightning was clearly visible to the east of Mt Vesuvius, and we contemplated hanging around the villa for it, but decided instead to hoof it for the train. Fortunately, the road we were on makes a loop, so we came back into town from a different side, and since the rain wasn't really coming down hard, we decided to find the beach area. Wound through the town, which is very plain jane, and ended up on the "beach", an esplanade area with a wide, trash strewn bit of dirt and grass leading to the waters edge. Don't know why it's so unkempt- it's a pretty bay in general, and the water looks relatively clean and very calm, but nobody seems to care for it at all. Further south you can see Sorrento perched on the hill, to the north you can see Naples and the islands of Procida and Ischia. It looks like there was once a street car along the esplanade, but it is obviously dead for some time. On the way back to the train station spotted an overgrown Stile Liberty mansion with butterfly capitals and beautiful wrought iron balconies. These art nouveau houses just seem to pop up in strange places like little bits of frosting on the cake!

Detail of Stile Liberty balcony of a house we stumbled upon in the town of Castellamare.

Came back on the train and picked up our usual eat-in groceries: a bag of arugula, tomatoes, beets (cooked ones in a pouch- we both love beets), some kind of roasted veggies to put in the salad, some cheese for me, some beans, bread, and a bit of dark chocolate with hazelnuts (yum!) Later we'll still manage to stuff in a gelato somehow.

Back for the passegiata in Pompeii. I think he's thinking "maybe if I wear camouflage, no one will recognize me!"

Struggling tonight with figuring out where we're going to stay when we get back to Rome tomorrow- it's hard because we're really on a tight budget and we've been waiting til the last minute because of schedule details. My band was supposed to play a gig on Thursday night, but because the standby flight we were going to try for looks too full to get on, we backed out of it, so now I think we're trying to stay here one more week to get in those last details in Roma and the surrounding area.