The Naples Tunnel

So-called crypta Neapolitana of Seneca

by Caroline Lawrence

Traveling from the Roman resort of Baiae to Naples one day nearly 2000 years ago, the Stoic philosopher Seneca decided to take the land route instead of the short but choppy sea voyage. Part of the road took a shortcut through a mountain by means of the famous Naples Tunnel. But the Crypta Neapolitana turned out to be almost worse than a sea voyage, a virtual ‘visit to death’. In one of his famous Letters to Lucilius, Seneca describes his harrowing journey.

bronze portrait thought by some to depict Seneca

When I had to return from Baiae to Naples, I convinced myself there might be a storm so I wouldn't have to endure another sea voyage. But the road was so waterlogged that I might as well have gone by ship. Anointed with the mud of the road and then dusted in the Naples Tunnel, I felt like a wrestler. Nothing could be longer than that prison, nothing gloomier than the torches that enabled us to see not through the darkness but rather the darkness itself. Had the place any other light sources it would still be clouded by dust which even in the open air is heavy and annoying. How much more so in that tunnel where the dust swirls back on itself. Shut up without any ventilation, it blows into the faces of those who stir it up. In this way we simultaneously endured two opposing inconveniences: on the same road, on the same day we battled both mud and dust. (Letter to Lucilius 57.1-2)

Emerging from the gloom into daylight restored Seneca to his usual good spirits, but thinking about the claustrophobic darkness of the tunnel afterwards prompted him to write about the nature of death and the immortality of the soul. 

Mergellina station seen from Tomb of Virgil

Seneca’s tunnel was in constant use up until about a century ago, when the middle of the tunnel collapsed, but you can still see both ends. The eastern (Neapolitan) entrance is found near the so-called Tomb of Virgil in the Parco Vergiliano a Piedgrotta. Located near Mergellina train station (only a half hour’s walk from Castel dell’Ovo) this Parco Vergiliano (with an e) is not to be confused with the large Parco Virgiliano (with an i) four miles southwest. In 2013 it barely appeared on Google maps but now you can easily locate it by typing in the words Parco Vergiliano a Piedigrotta. It is behind the Church of the Madonna of Piedigrotta and easily reached by taxi or by train to Mergellina. 

Hand-made tile plaque about myrtle at Virgil's Tomb

Virgil, of course, was the great Roman poet who wrote the Eclogues, the Georgics and the Aeneid, my favourite Latin poem. I was lucky enough to visit the Parco Vergiliano in September 2013 with Andante Travels. In this densely populated city without many public gardens the so-called site of Virgil’s tomb offers a cool, green oasis. Flanking the paths are plants and herbs mentioned in the works of Virgil, all beautifully labelled with tile plaques giving descriptions and the Latin names.

Another plaque tells about Virgil and you can see a modern bust of him in a niche, done in 1930 on the 2000th anniversary of his birth. Although the poet was born in Mantua and studied in Rome, he called Naples his home.

The plaque reads:

A modern bust of the ancient poet Virgil

Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapuere, tenet nunc Parthenope. Cecini pascua, rura, duces...

Mantua bore me, the Calabrians snatched me away, now Naples holds me. I sang of pastures, countrysides, leaders...

The steep hill is formed of honey-coloured tufa cloaked in ivy and dripping with vines. Like honeycomb, the soft rock is perfect for tombs, niches and tunnels, which the Neapolitans call galleria. The biggest of these tunnels is the dramatic Crypta Neapolitana – Seneca’s tunnel. Next to it is one contender for Virgil’s tomb, a cave carved into the hill with a bust of Virgil in a niche nearby. Nearby is another tomb, that of Giacomo Leopardi (1798-1837) a hunchback poet who was a great worshipper of Virgil. Sometimes this area is called the Hill of the Poets. 

Medieval fresco of Santa Maria dell’Idria above the tunnel

Undaunted by the background noise of the Mergellina train and police sirens, our Andante guide proclaimed Tennyson’s Ode to Virgil. Then he told us there is another possible tomb to Virgil on a higher level. 
Climbing the brick stairs with the aid of a sturdy wooden handrail we found a small Roman aqueduct that ran above Seneca’s tunnel. From up here you can get a closer look at a niche with a faded fresco of Madonna and Child. Mounting more stairs takes you to a beehive-shaped tomb that also might be Virgil’s. This atmospheric freestanding cylindrical tomb is of the columbarium type, with niches for ash-filled urns. There is a convenient tripod where you can burn fragrant bay leaves in memory of the great poet. The view from up here is breathtaking; you can see right across the bay to Vesuvius. 

Caroline Lawrence in Virgil's tomb

Although Virgil’s real burial place is probably lost in antiquity, this site became a popular place of pilgrimage. During the Middle Ages the poet became known as a magician. This belief might have started because of one of his poems, the so-called ‘Messianic’ Fourth Eclogue, in which Virgil seems to have miraculously prophesied the birth of Christ. (The poet died in 19 BC.) Other legends grew up around him and by the mid-14th century a book called the Cronaca di Partenope or Chronicle of Parthenope (‘Parthenope’is another name for Naples) recounts some amusing achievements of Virgil the Magician. For example, he made a metal horse that cured all sick horses, a golden fly that kept away all flies, and a magic leech that, thrown into a well, rid all Naples of her leeches. 

Virgil the Magician also placed a magic hen’s egg somewhere in the eponymous Castel dell’Ovo. As long as the egg remains, goes the legend, the castle will stand strong. 

painting of the Naples Tunnel by Gaspar Vanvitelli c 1700

My favourite legend is that Virgil himself drilled the Naples Tunnel merely by turning his intensely poetic gaze on the hill, not unlike Superman with his laser vision. According to one eighteenth century travel writer, the grosso popolo of Naples revered Virgil more for his magical creation of this tunnel than for the Aeneid. So it is fitting that you will find Virgil’s Tunnel near one of his possible tombs in the vibrant city he loved so much. 

My two retellings of stories from Virgil’s Aeneid are The Night Raid, about Nisus and Euryalus from book 9, and Queen of the Silver Arrow, about Camilla from books 7 and 11. The reading level is easy but the content is dark.

A version of this post was originally published on the Wonders and Marvels blog. 

Did Aeneas Invent Pizza?

When most people think of Italy, they also think of pizza.

The residents of Naples claim to have invented it and they boast that theirs is the best in the world. Although you can put everything from pepperoni to pineapple on a pizza these days, purists maintain that there are only two types of pizza, the two original ones: Marinara and Margherita.

Neapolitan fishermen with Mount Vesuvius at dawn

The first and most basic kind of pizza is simply a thin circle of hand-kneaded dough covered with garlic-infused tomato sauce, garnished with a little oregano and put in a very hot oven for about a minute. Legend has it that Neapolitan fisherman ate this for breakfast. That’s why it’s called Marinara which means fisherman (or ‘boatman’) in Italian. 

The second type of pizza for purists is the so-called Margherita. Buffalo mozzarella is added to the simplest version to create a pizza the same three colours as the Italian flag: red tomato sauce, green basil and white cheese. Guide books will tell you this tricolore (three-coloured) version was created in honour of Queen Margherita’s visit to Naples in the late 1800s, but that story may be apocryphal.

The Petrella mozzarella factory in Aversa near Naples

One of the centres of production of buffalo mozzarella is the town of Aversa near Naples. In 2015, my husband and I were visiting friends and took a tour of the spotless Petrella factory to see how this creamy white cheese is made. Their fresh mozzarella was like ambrosia. That’s another reason Naples claims to have the best pizza: they have the best mozzarella. 

Once, while reading Virgil’s Aeneid, I came across a passage that made me wonder if the concept of the pizza might not go back much further than the 19th century. According to the Latin poet Virgil, after the Greeks sacked Troy and ended the Trojan War the hero Aeneas sailed off to look for a new home. When he and his fellow refugees finally arrived in Italy at the place they were meant to settle, they found they were almost out of food. They only had some stale round loaves of bread to eat. In order to stretch this fare, they collected some ‘fruits of the field’, perhaps berries and herbs, put them on top and devoured the result. 

Tweaked fresco of Aeneas from Pompeii

Because the bread was so stale Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, joked, ‘Hey! We’re actually eating our tables!’ 
(Aeneid VII.116)

At that moment, Aeneas remembered a prophecy given earlier in their adventures: When you arrive at a place so tired and hungry that you eat your tables, you will know you have reached your promised land. (Aeneid VII. 124-127)

The berries certainly weren’t tomatoes, which come from the New World, and the herbs probably didn’t include oregano, garlic or basil, but this passage from a two-thousand year old epic is a lovely link between modern Italian cuisine and its ancient legends.

Caroline Lawrence has written over thirty books for kids set in Ancient Roman times. Two of these, The Night Raid and Queen of the Silver Arrow, are re-tellings of stories from Virgil’s Aeneid.  

Classics Bucket List

When you first became interested in Classics, did you have certain goals? Perhaps you dreamt of reading Homer in the original Greek? Or of learning to scan lines of Virgil? Did you hope your Classics degree might give you a grasp of Greek philosophy or insight into Roman politics? Did you imagine yourself doing certain things? Wandering ancient ruins in the shimmering heat of the Mediterranean sun? Drinking retsina under a grape arbour at dusk on the coast of some island? Swimming in the same dark waters sailed by Odysseus and Cleopatra?

How many of those dreams and goals have you realised? Maybe it's time to take stock. To ponder which can be ticked off a list and which can stay on. When I was thinking about this talk, I sent out a tweet asking Classicists what goals they still had. 80% of the answers were intellectual: e.g. to memorise a speech, learn a language, grasp a concept. Only 20% had to do with physical activity, usually a pilgrimage to some ancient site or trek along some famous road. We Classicists exist so much in our heads that I thought I would make most of the items on my list about the physical tasks rather than mental goals. My aim with this list of suggestions is to encourage you to use all five senses to reconnect with your original dreams and goals, so you can be inspired and inspire others. 

1. MEMORISE A PASSAGE - Learning something by heart is a precious thing. Memorise a speech or poem in Latin, Greek or Hebrew. Not only will you inspire your students, you will have something to recite when you find yourself in an ancient Greek theatre with those famously excellent acoustics. And a speech or poem is always more impressive than saying testing one two three when you’re trying out a microphone. Best of all, the passage becomes part of you. Tip: Recite it every morning while doing your push ups and crunches.

my kylix from the Vatican giftshop

2. START COLLECTING ARTEFACTS - It’s always fun to collect replica artefacts that you can play with and use in class. I like to buy one at every ancient site I visit. This can be costly at times, but it gives you a entry into the mindset of ancient Greeks or Romans as your teeth click on the ceramic rim of a kylix or as you hold a guttering oil lamp at night. Artefacts are an amazing way of bringing a text alive, of transferring knowledge from your head to your heart. The physician’s cupping instrument taught me about the four humours, the strigil about the baths, the sponge-stick about Roman hygiene.

my replica strigil and oil flask

3. TAKE YOUR STRIGIL TO THE BATHS - In Rome last year, I met two experts on ancient Roman thermae or baths. Neither one of them had ever been to a hammam or public bathhouse of any kind! How can you study Roman baths without ever trying out the nearest thing? A trip to a Turkish bath or hammam can be a sensory revelation. In a hammam in the old town of Fez, I once saw a boy shovelling sawdust into the underfloor furnace, just like a Roman hypocaust. I went to another Fez hammam at night and the electric lights glowed in the steam like oil-lamps. I almost fainted after the hot room because I got up too fast. With its cream and apricot marble and dome pierced with elaborate steam vents, Cağaloğlu Hamamı in Istanbul is so opulent that a visit makes you feel like a Roman emperor or empress. Tip: You don't have to go to Morocco or Turkey, there is a Roman Bath in Bayswater with rooms marked tepidarium, caldarium and laconicum. Take a flask of oil and your replica strigil to the Porchester Spa. 

Man on Market Street, San Francisco

4. TRY CUPPING - Cupping teaches you about the four humours, one of the ancient mindsets we've forgotten. The cupping instrument was such a common aspect of Greek and Roman life that doctors often hung replica ones outside their surgeries or put reliefs of them on their tombs. But many classicists wouldn't know a cupping vessel if they saw it. Cupping was designed to balance the humours bringing you back to health and stability. Reading Book VI of the Iliad, I suddenly realised that Hector is melancholy by nature and Paris – likened to a leaping stallion – is sanguine. Tip: Your local Chinese doctor or Acupuncture technician can do dry or wet cupping. 

Chris Lydamore

5. THROW A POT - I once attended a workshop in London where children in inner city primary schools were asked to make amphorae from plastic cups, masking tape and balloons! This was supposed to give them an grasp of the shape and function of amphorae in the ancient world. Arghh! How much better for them to have seen a potter at work or even had a go themselves to get a feel for the manufacture of real pots and jars. I was lucky enough to take pottery in high school. I still remember the feel of the lump of clay spinning between my hands, of how you have to pump the wheel with your foot making your thigh ache after a while, of how a pillar of wet clay grows and wobbles and tips if you haven't centred it. The slippery feel of clay water, the leathery texture of a partly dried pot, the chalky texture of a cup painted with glaze before the firing and its delightfully glossy durability afterwards. Tip: Your local community college or City Lit (in London) should offer courses in pottery or ceramics.

The Cambridge Greek play in 2013

6. ATTEND (OR STAGE) A GREEK PLAY - Oxford's Armand d’Angour dreams of seeing an authentic reconstruction of an Ancient Greek tragic chorus. He’s hoping to stage one himself in 2015. Those of you who are teachers have a captive cast and crew. You could always do an adaptation or a musical version. In Cambridge last year, I saw a superb double bill of Prometheus and The Frogs by Helen Eastman and others.  Personally, I would love to see the ancient version of a pantomime, in which a single pantomime dancer wearing a mask would dance out a story sung by accompanying musicians. We don't have any surviving examples, unfortunately, but you could put your own interpretation on it. 

with Andrew Ashmore 

7. TAKE PART IN A RE-ENACTMENT - You don't have to be in the front line. Re-enactments are not always about fighting. Sometimes they're about dressing up. You can be a poet or scribe or camp follower. If you don't take part in one, try to attend one. Wander from stall to stall, event to event. Talk to the re-enactors. They have insight into the classical world that can only be gleaned from sleeping in a field under a leather tent or cooking recipes from Apicius on a coal brazier or wearing a chain mail shirt all day. Tip: The British Museum and Museum of London stage regular re-enactment events. Check out this film clip about Gladiator Games held in London's Guildhall Yard. 

Ben Kane walks for charity

8. GO ON A PILGRIMAGE - Ray Laurence, professor of Classics at the University of Kent, tweeted his dream of following the Via Flaminia from Rimini to Rome. Liz Gloyn would walk Hadrian's Wall. Classics teacher Andrew Christie from Rugby School has the grand ambition to follow the footsteps of Alexander the Great. But why not aim high, like Andrew? You only live once. If you need an excuse to attempt a pilgrimage, why not go on a sponsored walk as author Ben Kane recently did. He and some dedicated friends walked from Capua to Rome in full armour! Tip: train for this one. 

Ostia Antica, numinous and magical

9. VISIT AN ANCIENT SITE - Have you stood in the ruins of Troy or climbed Vesuvius? Cambridge professor Mary Beard would like to go to Palmyra and Mons Porphyritus. Oxford professor Llewelyn Morgan dreams of climbing Mount Ilam in Pakistan. American Latin teacher Edward Zarrow wants to take his kids to Leptis. Many of my friends claim their interest in the subject was first sparked by a visit to an ancient site, not always an exotic or glamorous one. Tip: Ostia Antica is my favourite ancient site in the whole world. It has an almost numinous quality and is only an hour from Rome by train.

Santa Lucia fishing village in Naples

10. VISIT A CITY WITH A CLASSICAL HERITAGE - After many years of avoiding Naples, my husband and I spent a week there on the advice of Professor Andrew Wallace-Hadrill. We stayed in the peaceful Santa Lucia district – a hidden fishing village at the foot of the Castel dell'Ovo – and we fell utterly in love with the city. Vibrant, crowded, full of superstition and joie-de-vivre, Naples is probably the closest I will get to travelling back in time to Pompeii. Sadly, many Classicists avoid Naples apart from a half-day visit to the National Museum. Athens is another city that has a reputation of being hot and crowded, but if you go off-season, it can be a thrilling experience. We are living in a golden age of air fare and from the UK you can get to Classical cities more cheaply than any at other time in history. Tip: EasyJet.

Puy du Fou near Nîmes in France

11. ATTEND A BULLFIGHT OR CHARIOT RACE - You can't go back in time to the Colosseum for beast hunts and gladiatorial combats or to the Circus Maximus for chariot races. But the closest equivalent to a day in the amphitheatre is a day at a bullfight. If the idea of watching a bull being slaughtered offends you there are bullfights in France where the bull is not killed. This can be an eye-opening experience. The shape of the arenas is the same. Bull stadia are often draped in garlands, as we know the Colosseum was. You can rent a cushion and buy a snack, just like in Roman times. The most important person sits at the shady end of the oval nearest the sand (Latin harena = arena, of course). Dead animals are dragged off with hooks and the bloody sand raked over. Music was played then and is played now. Less evocative are modern chariot races. Health and safety means we will never legally watch twelve four-horse chariots race round a track at breakneck speed, but the Puy du Fou in France probably comes closest. Tip: You need a car for the Puy du Fou but not for the Great Roman Games at Nîmes. Just fly to Nîmes, get a bus to the city centre and you're there!  

The Amber Fury

12. WRITE A NOVEL OR SCREENPLAY - As a Classicist, you have enough insight and knowledge to write a book. Maybe you will write the next Eagle of the Ninth or The Last of the Wine. It could be a child’s picture book about the Trojan Horse, your own translation of Catullus' Love Poetry, or a tongue-in-cheek re-telling of Homer's Odyssey in the style of The Diary of A Wimpy Kid... Oh wait! That's been done. Classicist Natalie Haynes has recently written a contemporary novel based on a Greek tragedy template: The Amber Fury. Or, if a novel doesn't appeal, You could write a screenplay based on a updated Greek myth or re-telling of a fascinating incident from history. I am currently kicking myself that I didn't think of Ruby Sparks, the Pygmalion story from a writer's point of view, or Mark Wahlberg's upcoming The Roman, a filmed version of teenage Julius Caesar's abduction by pirates. If you're really ambitious, why not map out a whole TV series about Theseus or Hadrian? Tip: Find a good story structure method, like Save the Cat.

So those are my dozen suggestions of things you might want to do before you KICK THE BUCKET. If you don't like them, come up with your own! 

Tweet me @CarolineLawrenc to let me know how you get on. Or leave your suggestions in the comments section below.  Bona fortuna! Good luck!

P.S. My personal bucket list:

1. To memorise twenty lines of Homer's Iliad

2. Acquire a replica bronze age helmet with lining and crest

3. Take a pottery class and make a Geometric cup

4. Take part in a real Roman banquet, reclining on couches

5. Watch a Roman pantomime (or something close to it)

6. Climb Mount Vesuvius to the crater

7. Spend the night among the ruins of Troy

8. Visit Jerusalem

9. Witness a chariot race at Puys du Fou

10. Write an HBO television adaptation of the Aeneid

[This post is based on my presidential address at the JACT AGM and conference in May 2014.]

Pompeii Movie Bloopers

I will start by saying I enjoyed Pompeii the 2014 movie hugely and recommend it highly, especially to children aged 12 and up. It is obviously a labour of love and the film makers put a lot of research and thought into the look of the film. The sets are wonderful and the costumes also fun.

But writing historical fiction is always tricky and adapting it for big or little screen even harder. You can get 95% right but people will spot the 5% you got wrong. So here is my 5%, the dozen or so things that I consider to be bloopers. Hopefully, future makers of Roman movies, books or musicals will take note of these "mistakes". 

1. The forearm handshake is pure Hollywood. We know from coins, reliefs and vases that Romans shook hands, or at any rate clasped hands, just as we do today. For more proof that this handshake is totally bogus, go to my Greek and Roman Handshake Pinterest page. 

2. The phrase: "Those of us who are about to die salute you" is only attested once, in an account of a mock sea-battle during the reign of the Emperor Claudius. It was spoken by condemned criminals who all knew they were fated to die. 

3. Highborn girls probably wouldn't have run around Pompeii or any other Roman city without a bodyguard and without their heads covered by a palla. 

4. The film-makers show the famous stepping stones in Pompeii but then have the characters walk in the street. Some archaeologists think the fountains were constantly overflowing into the streets to wash away quantities of horse manure, etc. You would not want to walk in the streets of Pompeii, especially the ones open to horse and mule traffic. 

Neapolitans get out their umbrellas in 1944's eruption

5. Vesuvius has gone off many times since that first famous eruption in AD 79.  Each time great ash clouds still rise into the air. This type of eruption is called a Plinian eruption after Pliny the Younger, who first described it and Pliny the Elder, who lost his life investigating it. When Vesuvius erupts, Neapolitans just open their umbrellas and wait it out. Apart from the earth tremors that brought down some buildings, the main danger of the AD 79 eruption was from a succession of pyroclastic surges of white hot ash, which was well-depicted in the film. There were no flaming boulders, just showers of tiny pumice pebbles called lapilli. However, the exploding boulders invented by the film makers are great fun from a storytelling point of view. 

6. As in the movie, the sea did indeed recede and then became unviable because of a scum of debris and lapilli floating on the top and rubble on the coast. However there was no "reverse tsunami", though this makes for some exciting visual effects. 

7. People in Pompeii had about 12 hours to get out of town. The volcano started erupting around noon and the first pyroclastic surge did not occur before midnight. Those people who went south around the Capo di Sorrento probably survived. I have walked it myself: it takes about four hours from Castellammare di Stabia to Vico Equense. From Pompeii would be doable in 6 to 8 hours.

famous plaster cast of the mule-driver

8. The "frozen bodies" featured in the movie are inspired by plaster casts first made by the Italian excavator Fiorelli about 150 years ago. When the pyroclastic surges reached Pompeii, the heat was just enough to kill people instantly without burning their clothes or flesh. The ash fell and buried the bodies. Over time the ash became hard while the bodies decomposed. After two thousand years, all that was left were "people-shaped holes" in the hardened ash. Using the principle by which casts of famous sculptures were made, Fiorelli filled the cavities left by corpses with liquid plaster, let them dry and then chipped away the hardened ash. The "ancient Roman bodies" in positions of agony and despair electrified the world and put Pompeii on the map. 

A fumarole at Solfatara (Sept 2013)

9. Fissures did not open in the earth and bits of cliff did not fall off but there probably were steaming vents as there are today in Solfatara, a shallow volcanic crater in the Campi Flegrei (flaming fields) near Naples. 

10. Prior to the eruption, the crater was probably not full of lava. Spartacus and his men camped in it a century earlier. When the volcano erupted in AD 79 a whole new peak was created and the earlier higher peak, Mons Somma, collapsed. Today you can clearly see both the old peak and new: Mons Somma and Vesuvius.

The volcano's most recent eruption in April 1944

11. The cloud of ash thrown up by the volcano probably would have been white at first and seemed almost motionless, as in Norman Lewis's description of its most recent eruption in 1944. It was the most majestic and terrible sight I have ever seen, or ever expect to. The smoke from the crater slowly built up into a great bulging shape having all the appearance of solidity. It swelled and expanded so slowly that there was no sign of movement in the cloud which, by evening, must have risen thirty or forty thousand feet into the sky. (Naples 44 by Norman Lewis)

12.  Titus was not a vindictive Emperor as hinted at in the film. His younger brother Domitian was the one who executed dissenters and confiscated their property. On the contrary, Titus visited the area of destruction soon after the eruption, and provided financial aid out of his own funds.

Great book for kids 8+ about eruption

You can read Pliny the Younger's two accounts of the eruption online and see for yourself. A brilliant detailed scholarly commentary starts HERE. 

Kids will enjoy my second Roman Mystery, The Secrets of Vesuvius, which is closely based on Pliny's letters.

You can watch an adaptation of the Roman Mysteries books including The Secrets of Vesuvius on iTunes or Amazon Prime. And yes, there are bloopers in the filmed depictions of my books, too!  

12 Tasks for kids on the Bay of Naples

Perseus fresco

I know, I know! "Tasks" doesn't sound like a holiday word. But it's always good to have a few fun goals when you go on vacation, even if it's getting your grandmother one of those tiles she likes so much or sourcing the best local dessert.

So here are 12 child-friendly tasks for you to do in the Bay of Naples. They range from easy to challenging and you will have to get your parents to help!

1 Sorrento is famous for its lemon groves; try a lemon sorbet or - if your parents are agreeable - get one of them to order limoncello after dinner and ask for a sip, but just a sip! It is very strong.

rope marks on the well-head

2 Visit Herculaneum and find ancient rope-marks on one of several marble well-heads by the impluvia (rain-water pools) in some villas.

3 Have Sanbitter (a bright red, non-sweet, non-alcoholic Italian aperitif) and nibbles on the terrace of the Hotel Bellevue Syrene in Sorrento; ask if you can see the Roman rooms downstairs first, to help make the cost of your drink worth it!

funny ducks mosaic in Naples

4 Find the funny ducks mosaic at the National Museum of Archaeology in Naples (right).

5 Visit the so-called Villa of Poppaea AKA Oplontis (at Torre Annunziata on the Circuvesuviana Sorrento-Naples train line) and look at the cake-like layers of tufa (hardened ash) and papilli (light volcanic pebbles) that Vesuvius laid down.

6 Find the public water spouts in Castellammare di Stabia and taste one of seven different types of mineral water.

7 Go all the way into the Blue Grotto in Capri.

Villa of Pollius Felix (model)

8 Visit the model of the Villa of Pollius Felix in Piano di Sorrento (left).

9 Swim in the secret cove of the Villa of Pollius Felix on the Capo di Sorrento. (OK, then, just take a photo...)

10 Find the little fresco of Perseus with the head of Medusa (top of this post) at the Villa San Marco at Castellammare di Stabia. You'll have to get a taxi at Castellammare di Stabia, but it's worth it.

Temple of Mercury, Baia

11 Visit the flooded so-called Temple of Mercury at Baiae. It used to be part of a bath-house but the flooding is caused by a phenomenon known as bradyseism. (Look out for the upside down fig-tree growing in a cave-like vaulted room next door!)

12 Take a hot mud (fango) bath in the oldest spa on the island of Ischia. Or visit one of the modern baths like Negombo.

These "tasks" are adapted from the Roman Mysteries Travel Guide: From Ostia to Alexandria with Flavia Gemina, now available on Kindle. And if you want some good reading, try the three Roman Mysteries set on the Bay of Naples: The Secrets of Vesuvius, The Pirates of Pompeii and The Sirens of Surrentum. Buon Viaggio! 

Letters to Procula

Facere Scribenda et Scribere Legenda: Words and Deeds in Pliny's Vesuvius Letters

Mark Wells as Pliny the Younger

IV a.d. Id. Aug.

Plinia Marcella sends greeting to Procula,

Although I most fervently protested our foolish excursion, Gaius Caecilius insisted that a summer at Misenium would do me good. There is no slight intended to you, my dear, but you must understand that he is yet a young man, and the looming prospect of impending marriage this fall seems only to encourage him to linger longer here by the Bay of Naples. Of course, he needs little encouragement to stay here with his uncle; the two of them have become thick as thieves ever since Gaius went away to Rome. The rhetoric he studied with Quintilian and Nicetes of Sacerdos was certainly evident when he so eloquently convinced me to venture to Misenium this summer! Though I know he is a grown man who has received a notable education and will soon marry you, a beautiful young woman of the best family, Procula, my heart still longs for my little boy whom I raised in my house after his father died when he was so young. I long for the days when Lucius Verginius Rufus (his guardian, you know) ordered his tutoring at home, and we would escape to Stabiae in the summers. Oh how wonderful were those days! In parting, I assure you that Gaius Caecilius looks forward to the wedding, and I shall remind him about writing to you. He will not forget his duty, do not worry!

Id. Aug.
Gaius Caecilius Cilo sends greeting to Procula,
So sorry to have put this off so long. Quite rude of me, I know. Anyhow, I remain entirely faithful and look forward with great anticipation to our wedding come fall. My Uncle Pliny is a great character, and I am sure you two would get along famously. A bit of an odd bird of course, but with a sharp mind like his, one cannot fault him! I should imagine that he would practically risk death to make an interesting scientific discovery. Well then, until the fall!

XIV a.d. Kal. Sept.
Plinia Marcella sends greeting to Procula,
You must have patience for Gaius Caecilius, my dear. Misenium has him quite distracted, and I can only imagine that his correspondence must be brief! But he is a learned man with his uncle's thirst for knowledge. You must allow him this summer to explore scholarly pursuits before the wedding and the start of his political career. You need not worry about him as a husband; he is not one to take needless risks, and he is far more likely to have his head buried in a book than to go out cavorting at all hours. His letters may seem flippant, but gravity of character is one thing that my son has been blessed with to an extreme degree. Ever since his father died when he was very young, Gaius has attempted to shoulder a responsibility as my protector, even though his guardian, Lucius Verginius Rufus, was entirely capable of providing for us. In short, dear Procula, do not fret about any reluctance Gaius Caecilius may show in his letters (or in his lack of letters). His intentions are good, his heart true, his intellect vast, but he is awfully shortsighted, and he is utterly devoted to scholarly pursuits with his beloved Uncle Pliny at the moment.

XI a.d. Kal. Sept.
Gaius Caecilius Cilo sends greeting to Procula,
This letter writing business is not my forte, I suppose, but I shall endeavor to persevere, Procula, just as you must endeavor to bear with my hurried correspondence. Perhaps time will improve my letters. My intellectual venture with my uncle are simply engrossing; do forgive me for this neglect. Uncle Pliny is always intent on new scientific discoveries, but I find myself favoring less adventurous paths to knowledge. He has posed many questions to me, and I find myself writing of them in a scholarly fashion. I can only imagine how fabulously you two will get along. Misenium is a fine place to spend one's summer, and indeed I think that I may purchase a villa out here eventually and we may spend our summers here. What with Uncle Pliny so nearby, there would be very fine company and the seashore itself is beautiful. I can imagine that you must be longing to leave the stifling heat of Rome, but be warned: this area is oft afflicted by earthquakes, little tremors that serve to frighten the women and annoy the rest of us. We have had a rather lot of these little tremors in the past few days, it seems that the gods are angry, which worries Mother (her respect for the gods crosses frequently into blind terror, I am afraid). I shall write again soon, but be also prepared for a letter from my mother, whom I have seen furiously writing away, presumably attending to wedding details. Until my next letter, vale!

X a.d. Kal. Sept.
Plinia Marcella sends greeting to Procula,
I have enclosed a list of wedding preparations, and I hope that you will oblige me in looking them over. I attempt to while away my time here by planning for the wedding, but there is only so much that I can do in Misenium. My brother Pliny truly enjoys it here, and I can tell that Gaius Caecilius does as well, for they adore their scholarly pursuits and their long baths and their dozes in the sun. Unfortunately, I fear that my brother takes a far too foolhardy approach to his research. Do you know, I think he would even risk his own life in pursuit of his beloved sciences! But he is also a greatly selfless man, though I am not sure that he considers protecting his own life for our sakes to be a selfless act.  My time here at Misenium is made ever more uncomfortable by these little earth tremors, which grow more frequent all the time. Pliny and Gaius assure me that they are a harmless, even everyday, occurrence, but they do rather trouble me. Please do look over those arrangements for the wedding, and let me know what you think!

IX a.d. Kal. Sept.
Plinia Marcella sends greeting to Procula,
My son and brother have spotted a dark cloud over Mt. Vesuvius, and though they do not seem concerned, I must admit it frightens me that the gods must be angry, and so I am writing to you. Gaius has continued studying, but Pliny decided about an hour ago to examine the phenomenon more closely, and ordered a boat made ready. However, just now before he left, he received a message from Rectina, wife of Tascius, requesting help in escaping from their villa which lies directly underneath the mountain. Pliny has now ordered his warships launched and set off to rescue the people leaving along the Bay of Naples close to Vesuvius. He himself headed for the villa of his friend Pomponianus, at Stabiae. Gaius and I have remained at Misenium, where we shall be safe.

IX a.d. Kal. Sept.
Plinia Marcella sends greeting to Procula,
My dear, I must keep writing to you in order to keep my head. We had very violent tremors overnight, and I was fiercely afraid. Pliny has not yet returned, and I have no intention of leaving without him, so Gaius has continued to read his books in the library despite the admonition of a dear friend of his uncle's who is visiting from Spain. We finally chose to leave the house, but knew we could not abandon my dear brother. The ash fell down all around us, the sky went black. I just knew that it was the end of my life at the very least, and I begged Gaius to continue on without me, so that he could marry you and live out a long life. Not at all dramatic in the moment, I assure you. My son refused, Procula, and I think that speaks greatly to his character. Instead, we left the main road, and sat down against a building, shaking the ash off our backs every so often. It was a long and awful wait, but finally a hazy yellow daylight dawned, and we found our way back to the villa. We have just discovered that Pliny has not yet returned, and I am sick with worry over what this means. Procula, thank you for putting up with the long-winded letters of an old, fearful, and rambling woman; I know that your union with Gaius will be very blessed.

IV a.d. Kal. Sept.
Gaius Caecilius Cilo sends greeting to Procula,
Awfully sorry not to have written, dashed awful few days, you know. My uncle Pliny has turned up dead after a very brave attempt. It seems that some fumes from Vesuvius simply snuffed the life right out of him. His slaves tell me that he was calm until the last, first arriving at the villa of Pomponianus and taking a bath, dining, and sleeping soundly. When ash began to fall heavily, he was wakened, and joined his friends on the beach, where the fumes of Vesuvius overcame his weak windpipe, and he passed away suddenly. My uncle's great love of science and his bravery and selflessness proved his undoing, but I can take comfort in the fact that he died with a good friend, after helping numerous people escape with their lives, and after witnessing an amazing and terrible phenomenon of nature. The dark cloud did not lift until the VII a.d. Kal. Sept., and then his body was discovered, looking more asleep than dead. I am sorry to place a burden of such sad news at your feet, Procula, but it may cheer you to know that I was named my uncle's heir, which is a great honor to be accorded to me. We shall still marry in the fall, though I will most likely remain in Misenium for a short while to take care of affairs before returning to Rome. I shall see you in Rome quite shortly, dear Procula.

Eleventh grader Marina Macklin from Warrenton, Virginia, USA took first place in the International category of the Golden Sponge-stick Competition for 2011 with this impressive epistolary story alternately narrated by Pliny the Younger and his mother.