Day 84 - Roads Story

Roads Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Marco stood at the crossroads, deciding which way to explore; the roads led to and from Rome; they all led to and from Rome, or so said the ancient adages.  Marco has decided to spend the summer in Italy.  He had found part time employment with a company that arranged travel for student groups.  Marco spent six weeks chaperoning sixteen and seventeen year old high school students who were fortunate enough to have the money or sponsorship to allow them to spend two weeks in Europe.  There wasn’t much in the way of payment or per diem, but the hotels were free and there was a daily food allowance, although that wasn’t quite enough for even three very small meals per day.  But Marco made do.  He toured the same museums and saw the same Roman ruins with each group.  Then at night, he made sure that the kids stayed out of trouble (mostly).  There were a few nights when Marco had been drinking a beer or two at a local watering hole and looked the other way when he recognized a student or two.  He knew kids would be kids and there was no stopping that.  He just made sure the people on his tour made it back safe and sound at the end of the night.

After back-to-back-to-back tours Marcos was ready for a break.  He had made arrangements to spend two weeks by himself before he was to begin chaperoning again.  Marcos wanted to see Mt. Vesuvius and to explore some of the surrounding countryside outside of the city of Rome.  He enjoyed the history of Rome and found the ancient empire sites fascinating, but he also didn’t want to spend his whole summer seeing only the same museums a half dozen times.

Marcos set out on the roads of ancient Rome.  The empire had built one of the greatest networks of roads the world had ever seen and Marcos wanted to see it for himself.  There was a tour that took the Appian Way south.  Marcos spent some time with that tour, but eventually he broke away when the Via Appia headed back east and inland. 

Marcos hitched his way back to the west coast and headed to Naples.  He spent a better part of a day sitting on a hillside looking out at the bay, soaking up the sun, absorbing the atmosphere and watching the tourists pass by.

A young woman sat nearby him and ate a sandwich and drank half a bottle of wine.  She eventually noticed Marcos was spending his day in a similar way and politely offered him some of her wine.  Marcos happily accepted.

She turned out to also be an American, also on a summer vacation.  Marcos asked her why she chose to come to Naples and she told him she had always wanted to see the ruins of Pompeii.

“You’re a death tourist,” he joked.

“Nothing macabre I swear.  I’m not sick or twisted.  I was just fascinated to see an active volcano that people actually live on.”

“You could have gone to Yellowstone.  Probably for a lot less money.”

“Yellowstone is an active volcano?”

“I don’t know what it is technically.  I just know that when it erupts, it’s always one of the biggest and worst ones out there.  Sure Vesuvius is famous because people were there to witness it, but you want to talk about dangerous – if Yellowstone blows you can pretty much kiss half the US goodbye.  And that’s a conservative estimate.”

“Thanks for the thought.  One more thing to be terrified by.”

“What are the odds of an Asteroid hitting the earth?  You stay up at night worried about that?”

“You’re strange, aren’t you?” she kidded him.

She had a nice smile.  Her name was Rosetta, but she called herself Etta.  Marco wanted to make a Rosetta Stone joke, but figured she had probably heard those her entire life.

“I thought I would feel a greater sense of dread, being here,” Marco confessed.

“You know, I did too.  I didn’t want to be afraid, and I really didn’t want to get blown up by a volcano, but it’s a little disappointing that this is so peaceful.  Does that make me strange?”

“Nah.  I’m the same way.”  Marco struggled to think of something else to talk about, until he remembered a side note he read in a guide book.   “You know this erupted during World War II?  Slowed down our victory march.”

“Why do you know that?  Are you a tour guide or something?”

“Just fascinated by it, that’s all.  And these people choose to live here.  You wonder what all these people are thinking, living on a death trap?”

“You think Californians think about earthquakes all day?”

“I don’t know.  I guess I thought they must.  At least a little.  I mean this blows and something like three million people could be killed.”

“You think about stuff too much.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So you’re more the type to play it safe then?”

“You don’t know me.  You have no idea what sort of risk taker I could turn out to be.”

“Okay, you have piqued my interest.  Tell me what sort of wild man you truly are.”

“Well, now you’re kind of putting me on the spot.”

“As I suspected.”

“I am walking across Italy.”

“Really?”

“Backpacking, walking, hitching, whatever.  I always heard Italy had the best roads and I wanted to see them for myself.”

“You know what they say about the roads, don’t you?”

“That they all lead to Rome?”

“They all lead to Rome.”

“So is that where you’re headed?” he asked.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.  What about you?”

Marco paused for a moment.  He thought about the museums and about his job and then he thought about Etta’s soft features and charming smile.

“I really hadn’t given it that much thought,” he lied.  “I’m more of a see where the open roads takes me sort of guy.”

“I could get used to that.”

 They sat and finished Etta’s bottle of wine and waited for the sun to set.  It was a lovely sight.  Later, when they felt the ground shake, they weren’t sure if it was the volcano, the wine or something else entirely.