Vesuvo, Pompeii and the Beach

Going on a pub crawl the night before going to Vesuvius probably wasn't the best decision in the world, but thankfully the only indecency I succumbed to, to the dismay of everyone in the various clubs and bars we crawled to, was dancing my ass off everywhere we went, whether it be on the dance floor, on tables, platforms or oil drums. I'm also thankful that, unlike the girls in the group, I did not have to fend off creepy European guys.

After a two hour nap, which was surprisingly restful, we got on the bus for Vesuvius. I have to give it to our bus driver. He was a pro and handling that beast, taking us through hairpin turns on cliff's edge and expertly navigating the narrow, winding streets while avoiding other buses, bikes and pedestrians.
Reaching Vesuvius, we all got off the bus and made our way to the entrance to the gravelly climb to the summit, which consisted of a wooden shack selling various refreshments and trinkets (by this point I was jonesing for a cornetto, but wasn't going to shell out 3 euro for one.) Coots/Alex/Ryan/Giuseppe (0ne persone with many names) and I power-walked to the top, passing through sections of the path that gave us a great view of the Mediterranean and where the wind swept clouds over the trail, providing a cooling mist the the sweaty tourist.
Reaching the top, we found another wooden shack, selling much the same things as the shack at the bottom of the volcano. The view from here was pretty fantastic and I decided it would be best enjoyed with a plastic cup of wine.
From Vesuvius, we rode to our hotel, a small, cozy place about a hundred meters away from a Mediterranean beach. Immediately after setting my stuff down in the room and claiming a bed, I threw on my swim trunks and ran down to the smooth sand and warm waters. The sea stayed about knee deep for 20 meters in and did not go much deeper than that at the swimming boundary about 40 meters out.
The next day we went to Pompeii, about an hour away from our hotel. We lucked out by getting a very knowledgeable and enthusiastic tour guide who pointed out everything, from the tomb of his ancestor, to the castings they made of the original plant-life on Pompeii, which told them what to plant and where to recreate the site, pre-eruption. He also pointed the many ancient fastfood joints, dubbing them "McRomas", and the brothels, which had falic arrows pointing the way to these houses of pleasure. We visited the most famous brothel, or lupenaria (refering to the house as one of she-wolves), which had a kind of illustrated menu of "specialties" (Yeah, could I get a number 3, a number 7 with some fries on the side? Thanks.)
There was a lot of ancient graffiti on the lupenaria about the various girls and their reputations. One of them was a warning in latin about one poor working girl how got the clap and another recomended a professional...well our tour guide wouldn't tell us what her speicalty was, but Professor Everet, being pedagogue we is was so kind to do his best translating the latin phrase and told us that "Well, I can't make out the whole thing, but the second word is 'job'." (Of course he was joking.)
Getting back to the hotel, everybody made a mad dash for the beach. I actually decided to run the beach a little bit and got a bunch of strange looks (maybe it was because I was the only guy NOT in a speedo.) I actually got harassed by a very wrinkly, middle-aged Italian woman. Guess they get pissed when somebody is just trying to stay in shape.
After the sun started to set and the water started getting chilly I hung around the pool with some of the gals, who were trying to even out their tans in the fading light. I spent the hours between then and dinner eating mozzarella cheese and drinking wine with professor Bennet, conversing about food preparation and eating by the pool. I think he's a really cool guy.
That night was filled with wine drinking and singing on the beach. It was great to just chill out on a beach with about 10 liters of wine and a guitar, singing American songs, listening to the waves gently washing up on the beach and enjoying the salty night air.
After draing almost all of the wine, a couple of the gals and I were terribly hungry and decided to raid the kitchen for sustenance. I'm in debted to the management for leaving the keys in the locked kitchen door. Scavenging for something not too complicated to prepare, we ended up making away with a couple bottles of mineral water and some toast. Not a bad score, considering we did it in a near pitch black kitchen.
The next morning, some of us woke up in a haze, while other woke up just plain hungry. I was part of the latter, rushing down to the breakfast buffet and eatching just about anything I could get my hands on. We went to some Greek ruins in Paestam, which were none too exciting and got back on the bus to for Rome.