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The Winding Path to Rodellar

8/30/2017

View into a box canyon from the edge of the cliffside trail to Rodellar.

I want to write this now, while I am sweaty and exhausted. Before my feet stop tingling, before I take a shower and wash off all of the stink of hard work, fear and pride. There is salt dripping from my forehead into my eyes, and that’s the way it should be at this moment.

I want to write it while I am still full of endorphins, still brave. Legs covered in dirt, t-shirt damp and clinging to my abdomen.

Sweaty, tired, proud.

It would not seem like much to most. Not to Señor Aventura, my true love. Not to the three Aventura children, the lights of my life. They are all so outdoorsy, so bold, so strong. They could have accomplished this goal with ease… made it seem tiny, insignificant... even delightful. (They are like mountain goats, but skipping and frolicking along the way.)

The amazing Aventura children, in their element.

Today I conquered a trail though, a really steep and forbidding trail - and I did it alone. There was no-one ahead of me, no-one behind me, and no-one by my side. I spent a harrowing hour alone on the side of cliffs, hiking in 90 degree heat and at times I was not sure I was even still on the trail.

I passed an ancient bridge and paused to take photos. I climbed up a cliff face so steep, I’m still amazed I was able to go up it without places to grip with my hands and feet.

In the end, I made it to the charming little town of Rodellar… where I sat trembling in the shade of the church and gave silent thanks.

View from the shady bench where I gave thanks.

Rodellar, lovely mountain town.

Sweet dog resting in the shade in 90F+ heat.

Why is this such a big deal, you will probably ask. Thousands of people, millions of people even, climb trails alone every single day of their lives. They think nothing of it.

Why is it a big deal that one city slicker, a woman who still thinks of herself as a girl, someone that prefers lattes and movie theaters to camping under the stars… has done such a simple thing?

Is it because I’m now 41, an adventurer entering midlife?

Am I a living, breathing cliché? (“Hey world, don’t be afraid to try new things!”)

Do I want my daughter to see that women are strong and powerful?

Or how about this...

Circa 1994

Stanford, 1994. April? May? I’m a freshman with a crush on a boy in my dorm, someone who kisses me from time to time late at night when he’s stoned and we’re talking in the dark about philosophy or music. He has a kind face, looks a little bit like James Spader with a strong chin and a dimple in his cheek when he smiles.

Freshman year... hanging a photo in my first dorm room at Stanford (1993).

He’s the smartest boy I know, literally. He studies for no exams, at least not that I can see, yet aces everything. Racks up 'off the charts' scores. One day not far in the future, he will literally become a rocket scientist.

His little brother comes to visit from the East Coast, and this kid - the one I’m crushing on - asks if I want to come with them to the beach at Santa Cruz. Bring my books, do some work by the ocean. We’ll go somewhere wild and beautiful.

Would I ever! I’m a San Diego girl. I’m desolate without the ocean out my door, deeply homesick for the sound of waves crashing on the beach as I fall asleep. I’ve got no car at college; and thus am landlocked. Even my dreams are dry.

I throw on something, who knows what - something I hope will look pretty, and pack my backpack full of books, papers, a large soft blanket to sit on with an embroidered sun and stars. It’s one of those machine woven blankets popular with students right now. It is my very favorite; I wrap myself in it at night to feel warm and safe now that I am far from my childhood home.

Off we go!

I am smiling at this guy, and laughing at all of his jokes. Except, the trip is turning out to be not that romantic after all. I’m in the back seat, his brother in the front. As we drive my friend holds up a a ziplock bag of magic mushrooms; he tells me that he and his little brother will take them at the beach today and have an adventure.

“Oh, sure,” I smile awkwardly, disappointed.

“Do you want some?” he asks, probably trying to be generous.

“That’s okay,” I shake my head and smile. “I’ll just stay and work by the ocean.”

We park on the side of a road. Next to the road there is a field, and from the field a trail down to the beach. The ocean looks beautiful below the cliffs, and I’m heartened by the sound of waves crashing and sea birds calling.

I spread out my blanket, pull out all of my political science books and papers and begin to study for the upcoming final exam. The boys take their mushrooms and go on walkabout.

“Have fun!” they grin at me, as they walk away.

An hour passes. I’m alone, but pretty happy. The water is really beautiful here in Santa Cruz, and I’ve got snacks and a lot of work to do. The sun is shining. It almost feels like my home in San Diego.

On the beach at home in San Diego...

I’m still thinking about the boy, a little. 'Maybe he likes me?' I think/hope. 'As a girlfriend, maybe? He wouldn’t have brought me to Santa Cruz, out of all of the girls in the dorm, to meet his brother, if he didn’t. Right?'

Suddenly there’s a blot on the sun, a shadow falling directly over me. I look up with a smile, expecting to see my friend and his brother.

Except it’s not. Standing in front of me, completely naked, is a tall thin man. I have never seen him before, but he has clearly seen me sitting alone on this beach.

He is muscular and has dark, wild hair and an intense look in his eyes. He is only feet away from where I am sitting, and I am all alone. I have never seen a naked man in person before, but everything is right there now at eye level on full display.

He says nothing but begins to move toward me.

“Nobody will even hear me if I scream,” I think, and find that I cannot find my voice. There is no scream in me. Not one! My voice seems to have curdled like spoiled milk.

Then I do the only thing that seems sensible and natural. I ran a lot in high school, and heck, it’s been less than a year since high school. Fight or flight kicks in. Big time.

Off like a shot, I run. I know the guy is following me, I can hear him behind me, and when I turn my head I can see him… but I run hard and fast. I have an advantage… I am wearing shoes, and he is not.

I am literally running as fast as I can through the foliage toward the place I think we parked our car, up at the top of the cliffs on the side of the road. I am running toward civilization. I am running toward a small blue car like it is my salvation.

I run and run, sweat pouring from my body, and think to myself, “Why am I here? Why did I think I was safe as a girl alone in the middle of nowhere? What the hell am I doing?”

As I run, I realize the absurdity of the situation. I am here by myself in a remote part of Santa Cruz because a boy I like (and wanted to impress) feels like taking drugs and wandering aimlessly by the sea shore.

I have left myself open to danger... and with relative ease, it seems to have found me!

Panting and shaking, I pull myself out of the dense tangle of foliage and out to the street where I see our car. I am in tears. I am covered in dirt. There are scratches on my arms and some of them are bleeding.

I huddle by his car on the driver’s side and remember I have nothing. No keys, no backpack, no food, no books. Everything, even my wallet, was left down by the water.

But I am here! I am still here and I am breathing and the man seems to have disappeared. So I stand in the most visible place I can, next to our car, and I pray.

In a little while (was it ten minutes? an hour?) I see my friend walking up the road. He and his brother are smiley, loopy. They’re having the best time. They’re seeing things I don’t see. They're walking and talking sloooowwwly.

“Woah!” he says to me, looking me up and down. “What happened? You look like you’ve just come out of World War III!”

His little brother looks at me as though I am an alien, and spontaneously they both begin to giggle.

I explain about the naked man chasing me through the brush. In the end we go together, the three of us, back to the shore where I’ve left everything.

“I wonder if he took your wallet,” they say as we climb back down.

The backpack is still there though. So are the books, course readers, papers and surprisingly even my wallet. There is only one thing missing. That large sun, moon and star blanket is gone. That blanket of comfort and safety has literally been pulled away.

“Bummer, dude,” says my friend to me, laughing. “Maybe the guy was cold.”

I look at him, so goofy and relaxed when I am on cortisol-overdrive, having perhaps just prevented my own assault, and suddenly wonder how I could ever have found him attractive. I realize in an instant what a poor match we would be. We are both kids pretending to be grown ups.

“I’d like to go home now,” I say, gathering my things and trying to hold my voice steady. On the way back to Stanford I curl up in the back of his car without talking. I’m exhausted, and ready to sit in a hot shower; to call my best friend and cry.

I’m eighteen, and suddenly I cannot be alone in nature. Every time I find myself alone on a rustic path - anywhere - my heart begins to race fiercely and there is ringing in my ears. I am not afraid of the wilderness; no, not exactly. I am afraid of who may be lurking in it.

Nature has held some darkness for me since that day.

Nearly 24 years later, I remember this experience like it was yesterday… most of all when I’m hiking. Thankfully though it’s now just a tiny memory, one that surfaces once in a blue moon. Hard to believe nearly a quarter of a century has passed since that odd Spring day.

I live a life blessed many times over. It took eight more years to meet my perfect travel companion, the brave and good man known as Señor Aventura… but meet him I finally did, and now we cross the globe with our Scientist, Soccer Dude and Little Angel.

My travel companion, Sr. Aventura :) Worth the wait!

Lovely Little Angel is (amazingly!) closer than I am now to the age of eighteen. We are raising our eight year old daughter to be strong and fearless.

We are raising her to jump into deep natural pools, rappel down cliff faces and slide through waterfalls.

She’ll be a surfer, a swimmer, a hiker, a climber, a camper. She will not walk through this world scared to be alone in nature.

I’m so proud.

Today when she gets back from canyoning with her dad and asks me, “What did YOU do today Mommy?” I will tell her:

Today I clambered up cliffs and crossed canyons. I wandered where there was no clear direction and kept going, even when I was shaking and unsure that I would ever find the road or town.

Today I put one foot in front of the other on a narrow path no more than six inches across with a vertical drop straight down into a deep, dry creek bed.

Today I walked where nobody could hear my voice.

Today I faced my fears and at the moment when I was most scared, I grabbed a large rock (warm from the sun) and held it in my hand for comfort and for strength as I continued to climb.

Today I turned around to see if anyone was following me, and realized that I was blessedly alone ~ and safe.

Today I walked through the wilderness… and in the end, I found my way, all by myself, back to civilization.

Disclaimer: In this post I have tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity in some instances I have changed or omitted the names of individuals and places. I may also have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and more.

Thank you for reading this post from Years Of Adventure Travel Blog!
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Don't Be Terrorized... Now IS the Time to Plan Your Next Fabulous Trip to Barcelona!

8/17/2017

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The Aventura children are safe and thriving in our new 'hometown' - Barcelona!

Today there was a terrorist attack in our adopted city, Barcelona. The place we adore. Our home. A terrorist group has claimed responsibility for inspiring the horrific incident that took the lives of at least 12 innocents with scores more victims in the hospital tonight. Some reports say more attacks may be in store over the coming days.

When the news broke Señor Aventura and I had just come back to our apartment with the three Aventura children after enjoying a very typical three hour Catalan lunch with our good friend here in the city, "George" who, like me, is an American teacher abroad. George is on summer vacation from his teaching position here in Barcelona and has just taken a wonderful new apartment in the area of the city near Vall D'Hebron. He'd invited us to meet up for lunch and to see his place.

Lunch in Spain is a very relaxed affair, especially in the month of August when the city is essentially shut down and almost all of our native Catalan friends have left for a month of vacation. Restaurants are uncrowded at this time of year (when you're far from the tourist action) and it was fairly easy to find a table.

Many restaurants offer what they call a 'menu' which consists of two courses (such as paella and fish) plus a beverage (water, beer or wine) and a dessert (like flan) for 9 Euro. It's a fabulous deal, and makes eating out with the kids a real joy.

I ordered a glass of white wine and so did George. The Catalan waiter announced he'd bring us a bottle, and then he also handed a full bottle of vino tinto to my husband. We must have looked surprised to be handed two full bottles of wine because the waiter laughed and said cheerfully in Spanish, "It's a Mediterranean lunch!" Then he grinned and told my husband, "I'll call you a taxi after." Everybody laughed warmly, though we had no real intention of polishing off both bottles at 2pm. Somehow, this story feels important now.

We had such a nice time together catching up on our summer travels and plans for the new year. By the time our family got home hours later everyone was smiling and feeling quite relaxed. Our kids began to play a game and my husband sat down to accomplish a few things. I decided to put my head down for a brief, lazy August 'siesta' and had just drifted off when I heard my husband say, "Hon - there's been an attack. Looks like a terrorist attack."

"Oh no, where?" I murmured, thinking immediately of Paris and London.

"Here. Barcelona," he told me numbly. "Las Ramblas."

"Oh my gosh."

I sat up and grabbed my phone. He stayed on his laptop and we began to search for news to learn more about what was happening.

"It's still happening, I think," my husband said quietly. "I'm not sure."

Just then I got the first of many loving and concerned messages from home in California, from a dear childhood friend. "I am incredibly saddened to hear of the van attack in Barcelona. Are you guys all OK?" my friend wrote.

Immediately I responded to let her know that we were all okay, that we sent our love.

"It's all over the news," my husband nodded when I told him about the many messages of support and worry that were beginning to pour into my mobile phone via text, WhatsApp and Facebook. I called my mother, to let her know that we were safe.

Our lovely city, Barcelona!

Barcelona is a huge city. With a population of 1.6 million (not including tourists) within the city limits and five million people in the greater metropolitan area, the density of each block is very high. As it happens, we live far from Las Ramblas... it's a 27 minute drive from our building to the epicenter of the attack.

Standing out on our balcony overlooking the city, you would never have known anything was amiss. Bicyclists continued to cycle slowly up the street, people walked with their kids, music played from an apartment somewhere nearby.

About an hour after we first heard of the incident, I noticed a helicopter hovering fairly close by. Later we heard that one of the suspects had been apprehended there near our neighborhood, and shot while trying to flee from the police.

"Wow, that's pretty near to us," my husband said.

"Can I go play soccer downstairs?" The Scientist asked.

"Maybe not tonight, it's almost dinner time," we responded.

We've been listening to the Spanish journalists all night, and the news from the government is grim. Twelve dead with a few more critically injured, mortality numbers may rise. Anywhere between 50 and 80 hospitalized. Even more traumatized, and a large part of our amazing city on lockdown. Restaurants and businesses closed, the metro shut down, buses stopped. Local hospitals are caring for the victims, but at least two have said they have an adequate blood supply... no current need for donors.

The news hasn't identified the victims here yet, at least not as of the last time we checked... but we already know who they must be. Anyone who lives here would know. The victims were undoubtedly tourists from all over the world... street performers and artists, many of whom will sketch your portrait with incredible skill in moments for a few euro. They were mimes. They were families with children, looking to find out what the hype of Las Ramblas is all about. They may even have been local pickpockets, sifting through the throngs of travelers to pinch a wallet here or there. They were a colorful, beautiful, diverse crowd of humans. Many languages and cultures. None of them, not a single one, deserved this.

One of the world's known terrorist organizations has now claimed responsibility for the attack, and I refuse to write their name in this post because they don't deserve the free publicity. Basically that group inspired a bunch of teenaged, hormonal boys - online - to ruin their own lives and become murderers. The group gets no respect from me; and certainly no space in my blog. One of the actual attackers, not much older than my eldest son, is already dead. Nobody wins.

I have a strong message though... and I mean this with all my heart. It's for all the people we love, and all the people at home who may be feeling sorrow and fear right now.

DON'T BE SCARED. Don't! I'm sitting in Barcelona right now and it's the most amazing city you can imagine. Motorcycles are heading up the street, neighbors are having a dinner party, and the Catalan police (who have a massive presence, all the time) are well on top of the situation. They are an incredible group, and they have their eyes on everything all the time. They arrived on the scene of the incident within seconds. Literally.

They've got this. They're on it!

If you've always wanted to come to Barcelona, DO IT! Book your travel tonight. You will love this incredible town... its food, its culture, its history. The warmth of the people. The beauty of the Catalan countryside!

Such a superb, cosmopolitan metropolis!

Don't allow this attack to stop you from following your dreams. Do you love to travel? Then TRAVEL! Don't let these fools stop you from seeing the world, don't live in fear. That's what they want, right? To strike fear into the hearts of innocent people so that everything shuts down? Commerce stops? Travel stops? Everyone sits around petrified, peeing their pants?

I always wondered how I would feel in light of a real terrorist attack near me, and now I am actually living through one and I can tell you. I'm not scared at all. I'm just mad. I'm mad that anyone would even think of hurting these beautiful travelers, local citizens and artists on one of our city's iconic streets. I'm mad that anyone would even consider taking away the sense of peace and beauty that infuses this special place. I'm mad that they were successful this time, even though the Catalan and Spanish police have adeptly shut down hundreds of other plots in the last few years.

But I'm not scared.

Look - it's a crazy time in history. Anything can seemingly happen anywhere, at any time. We've seen that this week already in Charlottesville, and before that in San Bernadino, and before that in Orlando... and the list goes on and on.

Now it's happened here, in Barcelona. That sucks! I hate that it happened, and I'm horrified by the events and incredibly sad for the victims and their families. I'll willingly donate blood tomorrow if they need it. I'll follow the instructions the Catalan police give us, to the letter. But I'm not scared at all. I'm not thinking of leaving, and I feel just as safe here as I would in California. Safer.

Don't let the fear-mongers win.

If you love to travel, and you've got a hankering for sangria and tapas; for beautiful beaches and flamenco; and to see the glorious Sagrada Familia (at last, just a few years from its completion!) DO support this amazing city and come to Barcelona! It's honestly as beautiful tonight as it was this morning, and the strong, kind-hearted people here will be as wonderful tomorrow as they were yesterday.

She's still an absolute jewel, this lovely city of ours.

It feels very important to our family to get this message out there into the world today.
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Exploring Pompeii & Herculaneum (With Kids!)

8/12/2017

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The Scientist gazes up at two-thousand year old paintings on the ceiling of this Roman building.

WARNING!
This article contains images of 2,000 year old human skeletons, as displayed today within Italy's
world-renowned ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Parental/Teacher guidance recommended and
reader discretion advised!

"What will it be like, Mom?" the kids asked. "Will it be beautiful?"

"I'm not sure that 'beautiful' is exactly the right word to use to describe a dead city."

"But didn't you say it was frozen in time?" Little Angel pressed. "That's amazing! How does an entire city get frozen?"

"It got burned by lava from a volcano, don't you remember?" her older brother retorted. "We read all about it at school."

"Actually, Pompeii wasn't exactly burned by volcanic lava," I shook my head. "It was definitely buried by ash and pumice, but the thing that really doomed its inhabitants was something called a pyroclastic surge. A super hot mass of hot gas and rock fragments came rushing down the slopes of Vesuvius incredibly fast... and basically incinerated every living thing. The city itself is still there."

"What's incinerated?" asked Little Angel, frowning.

"Burned," replied her brother, smiling triumphantly.

We'd piled into our little Volkswagen car early in the morning on what would surely be a scorchingly hot day, equipped with sun hats and lots of water, to show our children one of the most important (and best-preserved) ruins in human history... the famous Roman town of Pompeii and its wealthier counterpart, Herculaneum.

"Can you tell us the story again, Mom?" asked Soccer Dude as Señor Aventura navigated us deftly through the crowded streets of Naples. "I want to understand what I am looking at."

View of Mt. Vesuvius on our way to visit the doomed towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum.

"Sure," I agreed, and began to tell them the story with as much detail as I could recall. (I haven't been a history teacher for 20 years for nothing!)

"Today we're going to be looking at two ancient Roman towns, or at least what is left of them. They are called Pompeii and Herculaneum. Each of them was bustling and prosperous until the tragic day nearly 2,000 years ago when all life ground to a sudden, violent halt!

"Were they like this, Mommy?" Little Angel asked, pointing outside toward Naples.

"No, you'll see. They were both a lot smaller than Naples. Pompeii was a decent sized town that had its own theaters, stadiums, restaurants and neighborhoods.

Approaching Pompeii from outside of the excavated grounds...

Herculaneum was a lot smaller and more upscale, like a beach resort. Herculaneum was more like the communities of La Jolla or Del Mar, back in the city where we're from in San Diego (California). Small, but elegant and well-maintained."

Herculaneum, seen from above.

"Oh," she nodded. "Okay, so then what?"

"Seventeen years earlier there had been a very big earthquake here in Campania (probably a foreshock to the volcano) and citizens of Pompeii and the other local towns were still rebuilding from it. They'd been reconstructing theaters and temples that had sustained serious damage, and generally trying to move forward.

The locals really had no idea what was about to happen to them Even though Vesuvius had erupted before, the last big eruption of the volcano had taken place so far back in the distant past that there was no record of it.

In AD79 citizens had been slowly rebuilding Pompeii and other local towns from earthquake damage.

Nobody living at that time knew that Vesuvius was anything other than a very fertile mountain near Pompeii where the best grapes were grown. Lovely villas dotted the mountain and the region was considered to be a fantastic escape for Rome's rich and famous."

"What's fertile?" asked Little Angel.

"It means that the soil was really good for growing things in, like fruits and vegetables," interjected The Scientist.

"Okay."

Vesuvius, quiet today but still a powerful threat.

I continued. "Earthquakes happen a lot around here, so nobody paid much attention to the fact that the ground had been rumbling for days. People continued to plan dinner parties and go out to shows and gladiator fights.

In the days right before the massive eruption there had also been some strange signs that things were not quite right... for example, pets and domesticated animals ran away from their homes, and the local wells and fountains suddenly dried up."

"Doesn't it seem like somebody should have noticed that things weren't normal?" asked Little Angel. "Wouldn't people be surprised and upset that their pets ran away?"

The dog in this glass case was chained and couldn't escape the volcanic eruption.

"Maybe they did," I answered, "But we don't know much about that because we have only one eyewitness account of what actually happened... and the person who wrote it wasn't living in Pompeii."

Wells and fountains like this one dried up in the days leading to the eruption.

"What happened next?" asked Soccer Dude, intrigued.

"Suddenly, at noon on August 24th, there was a massive explosion - different colors of sand and ash actually rose high into the air. It looked like a huge pine tree in the sky to the folks across the Bay in Misenum who saw it happen. Within an hour, ash from the eruption had completely blocked out the light from the sun!"

"Oh wow," said Soccer Dude. "That must have been kind of freaky for them."

"Did the people in Pompeii escape?" asked The Scientist, even though he already knew the answer.

Many tried to escape through the city gates of Pompeii as the eruption continued.

"When the eruption first began, the people didn't really know what to make of it. Some fled for their lives, and those were the lucky ones. They grabbed their statues of household gods, money and jewels and got the heck out!

Others insisted on staying behind to protect their property, or were unable to leave because they were sick or disabled. They prayed hard to their gods and hoped for protection.

People fleeing grabbed treasures on their way out!

Ash was falling at the rate of about six inches per hour, and at first the people who stayed behind tried to sweep it off of their tile roofs. As time passed, the piling ash got so heavy it began to actually crack the roofs and finally collapsed the second levels of buildings down onto the first levels. That's why we may not see many two-story buildings in Pompeii today.

Heavy ash and pumice collapsed the second level onto the lower level of Pompeii!

Twelve hours later a wall of volcanic mud rushed down Vesuvius and covered nearby Herculaneum completely, suffocating that entire town and burying it and all inhabitants that had not already fled alive.

A Herculaneum courtyard, covered so quickly with volcanic mud... it has perfectly preserved paint!

Because the mud came down so fast, many of the buildings of Herculaneum still have their second level intact... and some even have their original wood beams and balconies which did not decay, thanks to the mud which acted as a preservative. Many still have their original paint in vibrant colors on the walls!

Original wood, two-level building in Herculaneum.

Very early the next morning, around 6:30am, a pyroclastic surge rushed down the other side of the mountain toward Pompeii.

Those superheated gases burned the lungs of all remaining inhabitants and killed them instantly! Their bodies were then quickly encased in falling ash, where they remained for the next 1800 years."

Cast of a Roman citizen of Pompeii who perished in the disaster.

The faces of the Aventura children looked grim as they took all of this information in, sitting in the back seat of our car and knowing that they were about to see the ruins of this disaster in just ten minutes.

"The air around the Bay of Naples was thick with ash. People with asthma and other respiratory conditions really struggled to breathe as they tried to escape the disaster. A small tsunami even took place in the Bay at the height of the eruption, leaving sea animals flopping about eruption on the sea floor for everyone to see... and the sky was black even at midday."

Even across the Bay of Naples from the volcano, the sky was black and the air filled with ash.

"Was it like that even where we are staying?" asked Soccer Dude worriedly. "If it erupted again tonight, would we be okay?"

"Yes, Gioia tells me that we are out of the range of the volcano in Sant'Agata Sui Due Golfi," I assured him. "You'll be fine."

"So what happened?" asked The Scientist. "How did it end?"

"Well, the eruption lasted for a total of two days. During that time Pompeii was buried under a thick layer of volcanic ash. It disappeared from sight. If you hadn't known it was there, you would never have guessed.

Lost and forgotten for nearly 2,000 years...

Pompeii and Herculaneum, plus a few other local towns, were eventually lost to history, except for two letters written by Pliny the Younger, a historian and statesman who was just a teenager when Vesuvius erupted. He later wrote an eyewitness account of the eruption that had killed his uncle, the famous naval officer and scientist Pliny the Elder.

Pliny the Younger wrote two letters to a famous historian named Tacitus, describing the entire eruption in as much detail as he could give from his vantage point across the bay, and also drawing from reports from family friends about what had happened to his uncle who had died of an asthma attack in Stabiae. That is actually how we know what happened! Without his letters none of these ruins might ever have been found."

"That's really sad," said The Scientist with a frown. "You mean, the Italians might have just built other cities right on top of them?"

Modern Herculaneum sits above and just steps away from its doomed ancestor.

"You'd be amazed how often that happens," I replied. "Remember, even Barcelona where we live in Spain is built right on top of an old Roman city."

"Did those people really have to die?" asked Soccer Dude. "If an eruption happened again today, would all the people living here die too?" He looked out the car window and gestured at all of the apartment buildings around our car.

"Well, I think it would be hard to survive that kind of pyroclastic surge at any time in history. We're talking about 400 degree heat! You'd have to evacuate and escape it... because you couldn't withstand it. They say the thermal energy released by the explosion of Mt. Vesuvius was 100,000 times the strength of the atomic bombs they dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in World War II!

Luckily, we have early warning systems in place now that can tell us in advance if there is going to be a volcanic eruption. So, the people of Naples will know they need to evacuate before Vesuvius erupts again."

A hard sight... skeletons of citizens of Herculaneum blasted by the pyroclastic surge.

"Wow." The kids sat in stunned silence for a minute.

"I didn't know all of that," reflected my husband. "That's really interesting."

"How did they find the cities, Mommy?" asked Little Angel. "If they were buried?"

"That's a great question, sweetie. Pompeii and Herculaneum were lost and everyone forgot about them for almost two thousand years. Then in 1738 workmen were digging to lay the foundation for a summer palace for Charles of Bourbon, King of Naples... and they found the ruins of Herculaneum!"

Herculaneum was a desirable vacation spot 300 years ago...

"Oh my gosh! They must have been so amazed!"

"Did they find Pompeii too? At the same time?"

"Well, about 10 years later another excavation, this one led by a man called Rocque Joaquin de Alcubierre, discovered Pompeii. The cities lost to Vesuvius weren't lost any more!"

"Cool!!!"

I then described to my children how for nearly 300 years since then, these sites have undergone extensive excavation by archaeologists.

Archaeologists hard at work in Pompeii in 2017.

One of the most amazing discoveries during this period was made by Giuseppe Fiorelli and his team of archaeologists and excavators. They discovered a technique that made it possible to preserve the exact form of body shapes as they were discovered in the hardened ash.

"In a street called "Alley of the Skeletons" they discovered hollow areas within the ash. They could see that these hollow areas contained bones. Instead of digging into them to retrieve the bones, they instead filled the cavities with plaster. They allowed the plaster to harden for a few days, and then carefully chipped all of the hardened ash off of it."

Carefully dusting, brushing and cataloguing every single discovery.

"Why did the archaeologists do that?" asked Little Angel curiously.

"They'd found bones before in hollow cavities, and seen the impressions left by body parts in the ash and mud. They had a hunch that if you filled up the empty spaces with plaster, you might get a cast of the living thing whose body had made the space. So, they tried filling up a space... and after they chipped away the plaster what remained stunned everybody! They had created the plaster cast of a Pompeiian citizen that perfectly captured its exact moment of death!

I finished by telling them how smart this technique was, and still is!

"Even now, hundreds of years later, this remains the best method for getting an accurate representation of the dying figures. Over a thousand bodies have been retrieved from the ash in Pompeii, but only 100 of them have been perfectly preserved in cast replicas."

"Are we going to see those bodies, Mom?" asked The Scientist.

"That's really creepy!" announced Soccer Dude. "I want to see them though."

"I think the harder thing to see will be the skeletons at Herculaneum," I replied.

"For a long time archaeologists and historians thought many citizens of Herculaneum might have escaped alive, but right before you were born (I nodded to The Scientist) they discovered piles upon piles of skeletons of people who had hidden in the waterfront boat houses waiting to escape.

About three hundred Romans of all ages had been hiding inside the houses, waiting for the eruption to end... and they were sadly burned alive in an instant by a cloud of superhot gas and ash."

"That's so sad!" sighed Little Angel.

"Yes. It really is. But it's history, and it's important to understand it by seeing it in person, rather than reading about it in a book."

Señor Aventura had just pulled our car Chico Suave into a paid-parking lot right across the street from the ruins of Pompeii. It looked like you could buy anything in this lot, from fake statues to bottles of water, to an Italian lunch; even 50 euro cents per bathroom visit! They were definitely maximizing their location.

"Ready?" my husband asked.

Emerging from our car into the sticky heat of the day, we began to ascend the hill leading to the ancient town.

Little students of history!

At the bottom of this post (organized into two groups) I will include more photos taken in Pompeii during our tour with our vivacious tour guide Sandro (and the bevy of British and Eastern European beauties that joined us) and also more from Herculaneum, where we later guided ourselves after lunch.

We'd been recommended to pay for a guide, and it was incredibly worthwhile!

Sandro was an excellent guide to Pompeii... witty, lively and capable of bringing the ancient city back to life with his many colorful anecdotes and jokes. He spent half of his time showing us interesting sights and explaining history, and the other half hitting on one of the ladies on our tour, which made for fun viewing and kept the dead city feeling quite lively!

Watching our three children gently place their hands on walls that were thousands of years old was incredible. There is no way you can learn the sensation of cool stone beneath your fingertips from a book, or smell the inside of a two thousand year old gymnasium!

Their eyes were like saucers as they stuck their heads inside real ancient bakeries and pretended to serve soup from the world's original fast food restaurants.

The highlight of our day? You may get a laugh out of it...

After the guided tour ended and we paid Sandro, the five of us went to stand in the shade along the side of a high wall. The Scientist pulled out his blue Android mobile phone and began to play "Pompeii" by Bastille, a modern pop song and musical artist that are very popular with today's youth in the USA.

As suggested by its lyrics, the five of us closed our eyes. We listened to the words and melody written about Pompeii... standing right in the middle of the city! Then, as the song suggests, we opened them and really looked around at the actual walls of Pompeii all around us, imagining them crumbling down.

We could imagine ourselves there, back in time, on the day of the actual eruption!

Okay, now picture us standing in a circle and listening intently to a song about the eruption ;)

Looking down at my arm, I noticed goosebumps had risen on my flesh despite the intense heat of the lunchtime sunshine.

Together we gazed in awe at massive Vesuvius, resting so nonchalantly in the background... and thought about the impressive harm and ruin it had rained down upon innocents. On impulse we held hands and gave thanks that for now, the five of us were still all together and blissfully alive.

This was a long, hot and important day... unforgettable. We wrapped up eight hours spent wandering around both Pompeii and Herculaneum feeling physically exhausted, emotionally drained, and also incredibly grateful for all we'd seen ~ and all that we have!

Life is so delicate and transient, and we are so blessed.

Mankind is flawed and delicate in the face of nature... but the human spirit is amazing!

More photos: POMPEII

More photos: HERCULANEUM

A tired Little Angel contemplates the day... so much to think about!

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Secret Sorrento: Kayaking at Marina di Puolo

8/10/2017

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Marina di Puolo

For our fourth day along the Amalfi and Sorrento coasts we'd planned an early morning boat ride to the island of Capri, but as it turned out, I couldn't sleep! After many long hours of tossing and turning uncomfortably in the darkened apartment, I finally gave up the ghost and came out to the kitchen for breakfast at dawn.

"I'm really sorry honey," I told Señor Aventura later in a hushed voice, since the children were still asleep. "I've slept only two hours... at most. I think Capri needs to wait for another day. I just don't have it in me to take the kids all the way out there on a crowded ferry boat."

"No problem at all," he nodded, making his morning coffee. "We have plenty of time left to see the island. Why don't I go for a bike ride now before the kids get up, and then we can plan a more restful adventure somewhere closer... less of a trek?"

I put my head into my hands and closed my eyes for a moment. "Thanks, that sounds perfect. Have a fun bike ride!"

Exhausted but still too keyed up to sleep, I read quietly in my JoJo Moyes book until the kids woke up and then helped them to make breakfast and get ready.

Nothing like a good book for a slow, sweet start to the day!

By the time my husband returned from three hours of hard exercise, the rest of us were prepared and had a plan.

"Why don't we check out that other local beach Gioia recommended today? She said it would work well for kayaking. The kids would love to take the boat out. How does that sound?"

"Please, Dad?" the boys begged. "We really want to KAYAK!"

"Sure, great," Señor Aventura agreed.  "Kayaking sounds fun. Should we bring lunch?"

While he grabbed a quick breakfast the children and I packed up the car for the beach. We were all pretty excited about our new inflatable kayak from Decathlon. It was the kind you can inflate by yourself on the beach using a plastic pump, and we'd driven all the way from Barcelona to southern Italy with the boat rolled up tightly in the back of our beloved Volkswagen, Chico Suave.

This would be the first time we'd ever used it.

"I call the first kayak ride!" announced Soccer Dude.

"Wait, so do I!" exclaimed The Scientist.

"Why do THEY always get to go first?" grumped Little Angel.  "I want to go in the kayak with you, mama! Or with Daddy!"

"Everybody will get a turn in the kayak," I promised.  "For now, let's stay focused and get the car packed so it will be ready as soon as Daddy wants to go."

What could be more fun than an inflatable kayak?

Marina di Puolo is located a short drive from Sant'Agata Sui Due Golfi, just seventeen minutes away by car. We were so wrapped up in noticing the local hotels, restaurants and views of the Bay of Naples that we barely noticed time passing. Before we knew it, Señor Aventura was pulling off the road and turning right into a big shady parking lot.

"Olio di Oliva - 20Euro" read the sign, and then, "PARKING".

This parking lot seemed actually to be part of an adapted olive grove... the cars were parked side by side on hard packed earth beneath many wide branched olive trees. Together the tree branches created a thick cover of shade, which was very nice since the temperature outside already felt extremely warm.

Large tin canisters filled with olive oil, no doubt made from olives in this same grove, were for sale in the same office where we paid for parking. "We're in Italy!" I thought with a smile, grinning over that unlikely sales pairing.

"Ready?" Señor Aventura asked, as he pulled on his backpack. "Which boy wants to help me with the kayak, and which one will carry the oars?"

"I'm walking with Mom!" announced Little Angel.

"That means you get to help me bring our beach bags and water."

"Okay!"

Together we headed down the hill along a narrow road, occasionally pulling off to the side when a motorcycle or car buzzed by. We followed signs posted directing us to the marina.

Marina di Puolo is a small fishing village that sprang up within the estate of an ancient Roman villa that once covered the entire area from Sorrento all the way to Massa Lubrense. Puolo is still a very tiny town today, with only a few hundred actual residents, but despite how small it is there are several restaurants and bars there that cater to locals and tourists alike.

This is truly a 'locals only' kind of place... we didn't hear a single British, American or northern European accent around us. Its wide, pleasant shore was full of Italians... families, older people, couples, and young children playing. They seemed to be having a great time under the sun, sitting in their beach chairs under colorful umbrellas and enjoying that sunny Mediterranean bay.

Locals relaxing under striped umbrellas.

After depositing my tired body on a long blue beach chair under a matching umbrella, I set up my book, a bottle of water and some fresh fruit close at hand. Looking out at the bay I saw a glimpse of mighty Vesuvius towering against the horizon, hugged by clouds. The infamous volcano seemed mild mannered enough today... no eruption likely!

Relaxing in the sun listening to laughter and conversation bubbling up around us, I felt a surge of contentment.

Mount Vesuvius towers in the background across the Bay of Naples.

Little Angel began to explore the rocks and water next to my chair for sea creatures, while the boys helped their Dad inflate the kayak. What a kayak! They grew more and more excited as it began to fill with air.

"Look Mom!" Soccer Dude shouted. "Isn't it AWESOME?"

"Wow!" I replied. "It's even bigger than I expected!"

The boys finish inflating their kayak and begin to carry it toward the water.

The Scientist and Soccer Dude looked so happy and joyful as they prepared to go on their first Italian kayak ride with their dad. Since they were headed into deeper water they cheerfully donned their brightly colored orange life jackets and helped push the boat into the Mediterranean.

Seagulls chirped cheerfully in the background and even from the shore I could hear my boys laughing, already having a great time.

Getting the kayak into the water...

"It's FLOATING!" they cheered.

"I want to go!!!" whined Little Angel. "I want to go too, Mommy! It's not fair!"

"Don't worry," I assured her. "As soon as they get back, your dad will take you out in the kayak too... just you and him."

"Really?" her eyes illuminated with instant joy. "Just Dad and me? Without my brothers? Yay!!!!!!!!"

Cheerfully she turned back to collecting shells and interesting shaped rocks for the sand castle she had begun to build.

Angel builds a sand castle on the shore :)

Little Angel and I waited happily while our favorite guys were out in the water exploring the coast of Massa Lubrense.

While they were gone, we looked up to see a group gathering on the beach. They seemed to be standing above something in a semi-circle, and looking down at it. For a moment my heart caught, as I wondered if something had happened to a child or a swimmer.

Italian beachgoers gather around a giant squid that had washed up out of the sea.

"What's going on over there, Mommy?" Little Angel asked.

"I'm not sure, I'm going to get a closer look. You stay here on the beach chair for a second."

"I hope everybody is okay!" she said, turning back to her sand castle.

I wandered a few feet closer, wanting to get a better glimpse without intruding. Suddenly I realized that the crowd of people were standing above a giant squid similar to one we'd seen just that morning at the neighborhood fish market in Sant'Agata.

Giant squid washed up along the shore.

"It's a squid!" I called back to Little Angel. "A really big one!"

"Oh no! Is it dead, Mommy?"

"I hope not, but I don't know."

Two men stood closest to the large squid, having what looked like a fervent discussion about it. One of them was older, perhaps in his seventies. He continued to point at the creature and shake his head. The other looked much younger, maybe in his twenties. He seemed to deep in conversation with his older companion.

The squid itself - a 'calamaro rosso' red in color and two or three feet long - was flopping around, trying to get itself back into the water. It squirted liquid (probably in a defensive posture) out of its body, and seemed to be flailing and losing strength.

Then suddenly, the younger man knelt down, gently took the squid in both of his hands and began to pull it very slowly (still submerged in the water) out to sea.

Young man gently pulls the squid back out to sea.

"I think maybe it was stuck on the sand," I called to my daughter. "Maybe it was having trouble breathing out of water or swimming. And now this man is helping it get back out to its home."

"Oh, I really hope the squid makes it home!"

"Me too." We watched together as he held the creature under water and walked it out beyond the break of the waves, and then finally let go as it began to swim off.

"Yay!" Little Angel cheered. "He made it, he's swimming!!"

Half of the beach at Puolo watched as the squid swam silently away, and then cheered and clapped the young man on the back as he returned to his female companion.

Settling back down at my beach chair, I felt relieved and happy that the squid had lived to see another day. "There are good people in this world," I thought, reflecting on that kind young man who had taken the time to free the cephalopod from a tragic fate suffocating in the sand.

Onlookers watch and cheer!

A little while later Señor Aventura arrived back on the beach with the boys. They looked sweaty, disheveled and extremely happy!

"There is a huge tower out there!" Señor Aventura informed me when they returned. "It looks like some kind of military installation."

"That's really interesting," I agreed. "I'd love to see it, did you get a photo?"

"Mom, we had SO MUCH FUN!!!" my boys exclaimed. "We saw so many fish! Kayaking is AWESOME!"

"Fantastic! I'm so happy for you guys! Hey, I think I'll take a brief swim," I told my husband, "while you're here to watch our stuff and before you head out to sea again with Little Angel."

"Good idea. I'm hungry. I'll eat a little something before I take her out on the water."

I began to enter the water, which was warm enough to be comfortable. To my surprise, I saw that there were lots of bits of plastic trash floating all around me. Most of them were clear plastic, but one bit looked suspiciously like a Band-Aid.

"Ew!" I called. "There's a lot of stuff in this water!"

"Yeah," The Scientist agreed. "The water's kind of gross right here where it is shallow, but it got a lot cleaner the further we kayaked out there."

"Hmmmm..."

I swam around for fifteen or twenty minutes within the confines of the rocky shore break but couldn't shake the feeling that the water all around me was a little bit dirty.

"I think I'm done," I announced, heading back up the beach to dry off and settle again under my bright blue beach umbrella.

View from my beach chair.

"Can we go out now?" Little Angel asked her dad. "In the kayak? Please, Daddy?"

"Sure, Little Angel," my husband smiled. "It's time for you to have a turn out there too."

The smile on her face could not have been wider or more eager. "Hurray!!! Where's my life jacket?!?!?!" She raced to find it, and to grab an oar.

Soon, she and her dad were safely seated in the inflatable kayak and headed out to sea.

Our boys began to clamber along the rocks protecting the little harbor from the rest of the Bay of Naples, hunting and searching for sea creatures like hermit crabs, mussels and more.

They basked in the hot sunshine and took dips into the bay, but mainly looked for animals and played along the shorebreak. Every so often they came back to get more fruit or sandwiches from me.

Exploring the shorebreak at Marina di Puolo.

By four-thirty, Little Angel and her dad at last returned.

"Mommy! I LOVE KAYAKING!" she sang. "I love it so much!" She was still grinning from ear to ear. She began to skip and dance around, still holding her oar and wearing her life jacket.

A joyful Little Angel returns from adventure!

"I think it's about time to head back," my husband said quietly. "They've had a great day, and we should leave now while it's still positive, before anybody gets too tired."

"Besides me, you mean," I laughed. "I agree, that sounds perfect." We began to deflate the inflatable kayak, deconstruct the oars, and repack the beach bags.

"What a great day!" Little Angel wrapped her tanned arms around my waist. "I'm ready to go home."

As it happened, two out of three of my kids left the beach at Puolo that day with cuts on their feet that later began to swell painfully and they both eventually needed mild topical antibiotics.

"If we ever go back to that beach," confided The Scientist, "I'm definitely wearing my beach shoes on the big rocks. They are sharp!"

"Good point," I agreed.

Overall we'd shared a relaxing and happy time together at Marina di Puolo. Even though the water wasn't the absolute cleanest, it was still a fun, safe place for the kids to play with a wide shore and plenty of sunshine. We'd enjoyed exploring the good restaurants and amenities nearby.

Marina di Puolo: A relaxed, locals only kind of beach.

We also loved that Puolo is a locals only kind of place, and definitely appreciated that it had a real sand beach instead of just pebbles. I'd call it a fine, peaceful experience.

There is something truly special about visiting the kind of community where humans will take the time and trouble to help a suffering giant sea creature return alive to its watery home... I'll never forget everyone on that small southern Italian beach clapping and shaking hands with each other after its rescue. They were celebrating life, and also our undeniable connection with our brothers underwater.

Marina di Puolo has a good vibe and is worth visiting!

View Across the Bay of Naples from Marina Di Puolo.

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The Adventure Awaits!

The Winding Path to Rodellar

Don't Be Terrorized... Now IS the Time to Plan Your Next Fabulous Trip to Barcelona!

Exploring Pompeii & Herculaneum (With Kids!)

Secret Sorrento: Kayaking at Marina di Puolo

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The Adventure Awaits!

The Winding Path to Rodellar

Don't Be Terrorized... Now IS the Time to Plan Your Next Fabulous Trip to Barcelona!

Exploring Pompeii & Herculaneum (With Kids!)

Secret Sorrento: Kayaking at Marina di Puolo

Meet Andrea

Destinations & Travel Tips​

Want More Adventure In Your Life?

Categories

Have Travel Questions? We've Got Answers!

Past Adventures

Destinations & Travel Tips