Theo Investigates the Horrors of Pompei

 Everyone thinks they know the story of Pompei. Read on if you want to know the real story. Only made possible because Theo wants to know and decides to investigate. 

Theo, the gangster cat and my faithful traveling companion, asks the most important questions: why is Pompei so important? what actually happened?

Our local guide--and believe me, you need a guide in Pompei. There is just too much to see. Anyway, he gives us the gist up front:

In 79AD a nearby volcano named Vesuvius erupts (for the first time in 1,000 years) and covers the town of Pompei in approximately eighteen feet of volcanic ash. The eruption destroys the town but, ironically, preserves it. 

Theo narrows his eyes. He says, "I didn't know it was the first time in 1,000 years." (Let me explain. What Theo does know comes from the History Channel.)  

The people of this thriving town die--some breathe in the poisonous gas that drifts into the town. Some die from the intense heat. Others initially escape but return for money and jewelry, misjudge the time, and die.

In essence, time stops in Pompei. It is both a tragedy and an opportunity.

We wander through the museum first because Theo wants to see the bodies, caught in the act of whatever they were doing when the volcanic ash made its way to their door. I can't blame him. Years ago, when I visited Pompei for the first time, I remember seeing some of the bodies, literally frozen in the moment the ash hit, in their houses. Now years later, some have been moved to a museum to help keep them better preserved:

 

They are a ghastly sight. One minute everything was fine. Normal. The next--the entire town they live in is destroyed.

Archaeologists over the years have uncovered the city by carefully removing the ash. From Theo's perspective, he would love to climb into those glass enclosures and sniff, but Dan is holding him tight. Not here. There are too many tourists around. Everyone wants to see the bodies.  

Pompei is immense. Walking around the city will take hours. Our guide is fantastic. He takes us to see everything. We are literally privy to an entire town--with its houses, shops, stadiums, statues, and even some ooh la la houses where the rich and famous lived. 

When we first arrive, the entrance way into Pompei is lined with flowers and trees, in stark contrast to the ancient town that lies ahead. 

The tricky part about visiting these ancient sites is that you have to imagine the way they were. A bustling town. Filled to the brim with people. We glimpse some of the structures that were unearthed from the ash, large pillars that hint at the town's construction:

The large amphitheater gives us an idea of just how many people lived in Pompei:

I'm imagining this amphitheater filled, like the Colosseum, people waiting for entertainment. Music? A play? A speech? 

That's when we spot a streak of gray and black, cruising along the grass and headed for the amphitheater. We're standing off to the side. I glance down. Theo was here a minute ago, sniffing the ground. Now he's running toward the stone arch that is the official entranceway to this outdoor space. 

Dan, my always hero, takes off after the gangster cat. The amphitheater is a big place. If we don't keep Theo within our sight, who knows where he'll end up. 

I arrived at Pompei, imagining it is a small town. I am dead wrong. Since I was here over 20 years ago, so much more of the town has been unearthed. 

Theo has, of course, disappeared now through the arch. Dan disappears too. Luckily, you can touch everything and walk around Pompei. So Dan is not in violation of any Italian laws. I start running too. After both of them.

Dan reemerges with Theo. He is now walking calmly towards me as if there's nothing wrong. It's hot.

"Theo, what were you thinking?"

But the honest truth is--he wasn't thinking. He was being a cat. 

"Was it a squirrel? A bird? What were you chasing?"

He shrugs. "I had to do it, see?"

There is an Edward G. Robinson look on his cat face. All he needs is a lit cigar and one of those 1940 style hats on his head. Ah, he's impatient and wants to see more. 

"No more running away, okay?"

We reach a compromise. A few snacks, some rest in the shade, and we're ready to move on. Pompei awaits.

Next week: Part 2: the rest of the story . . .oh, wait, there will be a special Christmas adventure next week. Pompei will have to wait.

  

The Bones of St. Matthew? Theo Investigates.

 If you weren't born and raised a Catholic, you probably don't know that the religion is rife with stories--regarding saints and apostles and popes--that report that so and so's bones are buried here. Case in point. 

Dan, Theo (the gangster cat) and I are traveling around Salerno in Italy when we catch wind that St. Matthew's bones (or relics) are buried in the underground portion of a church. 

Who is St. Matthew? One of the apostles. He wrote one of the gospels that form the basis of the New Testament. If you are a fan of The Chosen, a publicly funded multi-part mini series that authentically traces the life and death of Jesus, Matthew is portrayed as slightly autistic. He was a tax collector for the Romans before he converted. 

By pure coincidence, I have a brother named Matthew. So how can we resist checking out the relics of a saint he was named after. Are they really his bones? Experts waver. 

The official story is: In Salerno, the Duomo of Salerno, or St. Matthew's Cathedral was built between 1080 and 1085. The remains of St. Matthew were found in 165 and later transported to Salerno in 954. Originally they were placed in an ancient Christian church (on the same site as the Cathedral). Later the remains were moved to the crypt. In 1688 the Cathedral was destroyed by an earthquake and rebuilt by 3 Italians. The Cathedral includes a bell tower and an impressive courtyard surrounded by porticos.

 

It is a majestic church that literally takes your breath away when you walk inside.

There is so much to see--the walls of the church and all of the artwork on the walls and the magnificent ceiling: 

We are enthralled, but anxious to go down the stairs to visit the crypt which lies underneath the main altar. This is where San Matteo is--the bones of the apostle we call St. Matthew.  

"Do you think it is really him?" I ask Dan.

Dan shrugs. "It could be."

Theo looks up, and I can almost see his brain thinking. He'll find out, he seems to want to say. He precedes us down the stairs to the crypt. 

"How does he know where to go?"

We pass an engraving on the wall which seems to identify that what we are about to see is for real. After all, St. Matthew is the patron saint of Salerno.

We round the corner and see the crypt in all its magnificence:

 Well, actually the crypt is blocked by a railing which surrounds it.

What we see is a sign that reads San Matteo. 

Right away I spot the problem. The crypt is under the altar. You cannot get close to it unless you leap over the railing that surrounds it. We stand as close as we can get and peer in.

And there he goes. Before we can say--don't go near the crypt, Theo has slipped between the rungs on the railing and is making his way toward the crypt.

"Theo, come back here."

Now I have to be honest. There are no armed guards protecting St. Matthew's remains. We could leap over the railing if we wanted to. There are very few visitors who are standing around. 

But somehow it feels sacrilegious. 

Nothing is going to stop Theo, however. He heads straight toward the crypt. And he's sniffing and sniffing.

I'm sceptical. Will Theo, with his expert sniffing, be able to answer the question--is St. Matthew really in the crypt?

Slowly he comes back, slips through the railing and acts as if he hasn't been on some deep secret mission. 

"Well? Is it St. Matthew or not?"

No answer. Theo has sniffed but he's keeping the info to himself.

"We're pulling out a snack."

The crinkling of the bag tells Theo that we mean business. 

Finally, he nods.

Theo has nodded. It is St. Matthew! Go figure.

Theo and Buffalo Bill

 

Dare I admit that I am in love with buffalo? Just take a peek. Yeah, I admit these guys are baby buffalo, but how cute!

Years ago I visited a buffalo farm in New Jersey which was known for their bison. I remember watching the buffalo in the field--I always think they are so magnificent looking--but what I remember most was accidentally stepping into a gigantic pile of buffalo poop. It looked like a mound of dirt. I had no idea. Yuck!

Today Dan, Theo, and I are on our way to another buffalo farm, but this farm is known for its buffalo mozzarella. It is family owned, of course, and it is surrounded by palm trees. Only in Italy. 

My appreciation for mozzarella has grown over the years. When I make lasagne, you can buy mozzarella all wrapped up and ready to slice. When you make a pizza, you can buy already shredded mozzarella. You can buy low fat and full boat mozzarella. Now the trend is fresh mozzarella, which is still sitting in its own juice. 

Most mozzarella is from cows. In Italy, in Capaccio, a province of Salerno in the Campania region, they breed buffalo for their mozzarella. The taste of that particular mozzarella is richer and more tangy.

So here we are at a buffalo farm, and I am very careful where I step. The buffalo here, when we arrive are in stalls, and luckily, we can walk on pathways--free of poop? I'm hoping.

The buffalo do roam outside, but for now they are in their pens. This place is enormous. 

Theo is in his glory. He can smell the buffalo--and his little nose is sniffing away. He stops a few times along the trail and just stares. 

I've seen them before, of course, in the wild at Yellowstone National Park. There you keep your distance. They can move fast, and like most wild animals, the mamas will defend the baby buffalos if they sense any threat. A close encounter with a buffalo will land you in the hospital or even dead. 

"Keep an eye on him," Dan calls out.

"I know." He means Theo, whose curiosity might just get the best of him. 

I call it close encounters of the third kind--when you go nose to nose. I can imagine Theo . . .

And sure enough there he is, the little gangster cat, stalking along the perimeter of the fence, separating safety from buffalo. He stops. And a buffalo saunters over. Curious too?

I can easily imagine the worse case scenario. Theo slips under the fence, misinterpreting the buffalo's friendliness. Something Chucky would do. 

If I move closer, will Theo make a move? A wrong move? 

Meanwhile, the buffalo--let's call him Bill--is inserting his head between the iron fencing and sniffing. I know he's spied Theo. I know he's curious. Has he ever seen a cat before? Sniffed a cat?

Dan, my hero, who has saved Theo from more unfortunate incidents, scoops Theo in his arms. He takes a step back but not too far. Theo protests. He meows. I feel incredibly bad. 

I have to admit this buffalo looks totally harmless. But I've heard the stories from Yellowstone. I know they are deadly wild animals. And yet, dare I say it, they look cute.

I snap a lot of photos. I take one more video.  Stalling?

"Should we let Theo sniff the buffalo?" I tentatively ask.

Dan looks like he can go either way. But he steps closer.

"Wait. Not too close--"

But Theo is giving me the evil eye. Even Buffalo Bill is looking at me a bit funny.

Nothing much happens. Theo sniffs. Buffalo Bill sniffs. There is no biting, punching, eye gouging, cat eating. Nothing. Later we eat lunch there also (it's always about food), and Theo even tries the buffalo mozzarella. 

Theo likes it. Yes!!

The Mystery of the Ancient Jars

 Theo and I are both curious souls. How did people live thousands of years ago before electricity and running water and air conditioning? Was their life anything like ours?

We spend hours walking around the archaeological site of Paestum (the best preserved Greek/Roman city) where there are still, after thousands of years, three remarkably preserved Greek temples, a Roman forum, a market, and an amphitheater. Historians believe it's a miracle that the temples are still here. The Italians have been excavating the site, uncovering the remains of the city when the Greeks occupied it for 200 years. 

Italy is hot this time of year. Walking around an archaeological site can be an exhausting experience. However, after Theo's snack, we can't leave without peeking into the National Archaeological Museum of Paestum, which has become the repository for all the things they have found.

I have so many questions and so little time. We decide to focus on their artwork. What was on their walls?  What kind of stories did they tell about their daily lives? AND we also want to see the Tomb of the Diver, a rare find, which depicts in color a fresco on a tomb dating to 500 BC. The subject is mysterious and highly unusual for a drawing on a tomb: a lone diver leaping into a pool of water. What can it mean?

Theo is not as enthused. But he's just eaten so he is willing to trot alongside of us and sniff the exhibits. It is cool in the museum which is a blessing. 

Check this out:

You can learn a lot about a culture by looking at the scenes they decide to depict on their vases. 

I am also super impressed by the ornamentation in their houses:

I love the masks and the elaborate decoration of their shelves. 

Finally, we come to the Tomb of the Diver:

 These four scenes tell a story depicting what historians call a symposium--a time where men gathered together--to eat and drink and discuss everything. Only men are depicted. They seem to be quite chummy with each other. 

Then we have the diver scene:

You might be thinking--okay--what's all the fuss? Keep in mind that these scenes are on a tomb. Someone took the time to create these frescoes--but why on a tomb? No one knows the answer. As we're pondering the what and why, Theo is sniffing.

Of course, he is. Because he's located an exhibit which is another mystery. Excavated from thousands of years go are two jars filled with - well, no one knows. The nearest explanation is that the jars were filled with honey--the nectar of the gods.

If Theo could, he would leap into the exhibit to get closer. I glance at Dan and he reads my mind, scooping Theo up in one fell swoop. He is not a happy camper and struggles to get down.

"No, this is a major archaelogical exhibit. You cannot jump up and try to break the glass and get inside."

Theo only wiggles more. 

"You could be arrested and imprisoned. Is it worth it?"

Theo shrugs.

I expect nothing else. But I can't resist asking, "Can you smell anything? What do you think it is? Honey???"

Theo sighs. "If only," he must be thinking, "you two weren't here. Then I could find out . . ."

"Theo, is it honey?"

"Sure, mom, whatever you say."

Ugh.

The Miracle of Paestum

 Greek temples in Italy? If you need confirmation as to how crazy the world can be, visit Italy where you'll find more Greek temples than in Greece. 

Historians in the know report that during the eighth century BC, ancient Greeks settled along the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea and founded more than 500 Greek colonies, scattered along the shores of the Black Sea, southern Italy, Northern Africa and the coasts of southern France and Spain. They built temples to honor their gods. 

We wanted to see for ourselves what historians call a miracle.  

Sure enough--for some unexplained reason, the Romans did not destroy three well-preserved Greek temples. Centuries later, the miracle continued. During WWII, American (136th Infantry Division) and British forces arrived to liberate Italy. Salerno was the landing point where the Americans fought the Germans for control. The American soldiers slept in those same temples. The fighting caused some damage, but still the temples survived. 

They are a marvel. When you first see them, they seem surreal--as if you've stepped back in time. Imagine a field of grass and rock and dirt, where larger stones lay on top. This is what excavation looks like, a slow process of uncovering what lies beneath. Paestum is approximately one half mile wide. So far, the Italians have excavated only one fifth of that area:

 

In the distance you see a stone archway. 

Further on, you spot your first temple. Doric style. Built in honor of Hera, one of the Greek gods, in 600 BC. Paestum thrived as a democracy for 200 years.  

To the left is the second temple built in honor of Hera. Again remarkably well-preserved.

  

I'm not an expert on temples, but even I can see the details that remain after thousands of years. It is truly remarkable. 

Theo is with us, of course. He loves being outside, smelling the breezes. Today is not as hot as it usually is in Italy in June. But Theo loves the sun. He seems as entranced as we are. 

You can get up close and personal to these two temples, which isn't always the case when you visit ruins. (You can only admire the Acropolis in Athens, Greece, from afar.) Here you can climb up and walk inside the temple and touch the stone. You can imagine the awe the peasants would have felt to witness the size and glory of a building. 

Theo is having the time of his life. I suspect things are only real to him if he can sniff them. After a few minutes, we have to usher him along. There is still one more temple to see. And the amphitheater.

The third temple (far to the right) is dedicated to Athena. Unfortunately, barriers are erected to keep tourists from going inside. What happens next is our own darned fault.

Theo thinks you can sniff any ruin. Any temple. He doesn't quite get the context of barriers which means keep out. A barrier is just an obstacle that he can easily overcome. In this case, he slides through and is standing in the forbidden zone. 

This is going to be tricky. 

"What do you think we should do?"

Now the barriers are not ten feet tall. Dan can scoot over one in an instant. We look around. A few people are milling about. A horde of tourists are still over by the Hera Temple. We have a few minutes yet to solve the problem.

"I don't see any guards."

Still Dan is reluctant to go into the forbidden zone. Would Italians think it's cute that we're rescuing our cat or would they see us as temple terrorists and arrest us? I can see the headlines now . . . 

"Theo," he calls. "Snack time."

Who says Theo doesn't understand English? Or recognize the sound of his favorite dried food rustling against the small plastic container we're holding. 

"Shake it again."

That's all it takes. Theo loses interest in the temple and slides back through the barrier. We hightail it over to the amphitheater and sit down to snack. 

As we're leaving, we take one last look behind. The Athena Temple stands there in all its glory, and we're sure it's destined to remain for at least another thousand years.