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Italy Trip
BRJ invades Italy
Despite a meeting time of quarter to one, the car park at BRJ was heaving 20 minutes before that—such was the keenness of the students not to be left behind. As matters turned out, it was not the students, but a couple of passports and some health insurance cards which had failed to reach the coach. Masterful organisation quickly realised the problem (i.e. Mrs Simmonds) and parents were dispatched back home to retrieve the missing documents. On the road at just after 1.15 a.m. our Welsh driver swung the Coach towards the M54, pressed the loud pedal and headed South.
Five short and excitedly sleepless hours later we arrived at Gatwick. Once more, masterful ’Rommelsque’ tactics from our leader facilitated our passage through check—in, security (including the smelly trainer check), immigration and into the sanctuary of the departure lounge.
The aircraft departed on time as the sun rose over a bleary-eyed southern England and treated us to spectacular views of Beachy Head, The Alps, Geneva and the Apenines as we cruised towards Napoli.
With a 70 mph tailwind we arrived early in Italy and before long we were barrelling along the highways of Naples dodging drivers who clearly had no intention of ever reaching pensionable age. One such driver we were unable to dodge and the dent from the suicidal truck’s wing mirrors is another battle scar worn proudly by our Schumacher inspired PSV driver.
Once in the relative security of the ’Klein Wein’ Hotel and its spectacular perch on top of a cliff in Sorrento the group had a little time to recharge their batteries. Some took advantage of the tropical conditions to take a refreshing dip in crystal clear waters of the Bay of Naples while others rested up or did a little shopping.
Dinner could not come too soon for most. Soon after most were out for the count anticipating another ’different’ experience on Friday . Or so we thought…... Just before dinner, as he was scanning the harbour just below us, Ryszard noticed a barge with the words ‘Pyrotechnia Salernonica’. A rough translation seemed to reveal it was the town’s Firework boat. Little did we know it was booked for midnight. And the height of the firework explosions were cleverly set to be about 80 metres above the water i.e. directly outside our windows.
After being woken by the first 30 minute session of lying under the beds thinking the Sardinians had invaded we settled down to sleep again only to be woken by the second phase of explosions—only this time they were natural—Nature in full fury treating us o the e biggest lightning storm (and associated downpour) in 20 years.
Day 2 Friday
What a day in prospect. Cloudless skies. A distinctly autumnal feel. Perfect conditions to view Herculaneum and scale Mt. Vesuvius.
Most students had slept blissfully through the previous nights excitement. Most were down to breakfast on time. Some even still had their room keys / ipods and passports!After battling through the Naples traffic and viewing the barely constructed local buildings we closed our eyes as our coach mixed it with the flotsam and jetsam of scooters, three wheelers and associated small, badly damaged Fiats. At one stage a student claimed to have seen a car with an intact wing mirror, but there was no evidence to confirm this.
We met Signor ‘Follow’ Salvatore at the gates to Herculaneum and we were treated to a fascinating tour of the spectacularly preserved early Roman resort. Highlights included the intact Roman Bath (with the overhead lockers) and the fast food restaurants. This was celebrity living at its finest. Until Vesuvius thought otherwise, that was. Much of this Greco // Etruscan resort lies trapped under the suburbs of modern—day Naples and excavation has practically finished so surrounding buildings don’t collapse as their foundations are undermined.
It should be mentioned that along the way we were having minor setbacks—Joel lost his camera, then found it later. But it was remarkable how everyone overcame adversity with a smile, a shrug and—usually—the issue was resolved positively anyway!
Vesuvius
After lunch, the Coach pointed north to the destructive source of Herculaneum’s encapsulation, avoiding piles of uncollected rubbish as we headed up the flanks of one of the world’s iconic volcanic threats.
The contrast between the savage beauty of the landscape and the incredible lack of care and respect that mankind has for it made us think a little—maybe the volcano gets angry with puny humanity from time to time and decides to sort it out.
The 30 minute walk to the crater of Vesuvius had us reeling with the spectacular beauty of the Bay of Naples and the sprawling city below us. Then we were struck by the crater of the volcano itself—sulphurous fumes, steam—clearly a living, breathing organism. The Italian guide reassured us that the sophisticated seismic monitoring would ensure weeks of warning of an eruption, but Mr High’s Geography A Level books weren’t so sure...
A return to the hotel in time for a swim for some and a leisurely stroll through one of Sorento’s beautiful parks for others not so prepared to brave the Mediterranean was topped off by another hearty meal. After dinner it was time to sort out some packing (already!) in readiness for our next piece of time travelling. There was a sixth form ‘caterpillar’ moment caught on the Hotel’s CCTV system during the evening, but the student involved metamorphosed into a beautiful butterfly….
Day 3 Saturday
No CITV or Football Focus for us this morning! Another dry day but with a chilly breeze met us as we loaded our bags onto the coach and headed for Pompeii.
It was good to meet ‘Follow’ (Salvatore) again and we soaked up his entertaining and informative dialogue as he ambled knowledgably among the 40 –odd Hectares of this unbelievably tragic yet brilliantly preserved site. He explained the ‘fantasticke’ way that the Archaeologists discovered the mummified state of the inhabitants of Pompeii by injecting plaster into the strange voids they kept finding. Even dogs and loaves of bread failed to escape the fury of Vesuvius. It was clear that a morning was no-where near enough to truly get to grips with this amazing place but we made the bus on time and headed all our roads led to Rome. Or so we thought. Our bus driver seemed to have an important date back home, or had an external bag fitted instead of a bladder. 4 hours our uncomplaining crew (including a Year 3!) went without a toilet break. BRJ had its revenge, however, by maliciously opening our packed lunches and, in a concerted move, began to unpeel our oranges. This evil strategy triggered an allergic reaction in our driver, forcing him to pull over in a lay-by. Don’t mess with the BRJ crew, Giuseppe, we’ll always win. A chastened and teary-eyed coach driver took us into the city centre and dropped us off at the Hotel Siracusa. Unfortunately our reservations had been changed to the Hotel Lazio, round the corner. Interestingly, the locals had decided to engage in a huge demonstration just to block all of Giuseppe’s routes around Rome—Ha! Also they decided to throw red dye in the Trevi fountain and engaged in a little vandalism.as well. After using the Siracusa’s toilet facilities to the maximum, we wearily dragged our cases to the Hotel Lazio and checked in. Bags deposited, freshened up– we nosed subtly into the cool Roman evening and headed for the Terminii where a pianist, a superb meal and thousands of people were all congregated in the same place—surprisingly with very little hassle and much good humour. Despite not being able to find somewhere to watch the rugby—and realising it was not too humiliating a defeat -we fell into our beds wondering what adventures might lie in store for us tomorrow.
Day 4 Sunday
After a breakfast comprising of orange juice, battery acid (or was it grapefruit juice?) Hot chocolate, bread, honey, salami, cheese some kind of tart, cereal and a very ‘interesting’ flavour of milk (described by Mr. High’s sons as ‘minging’, we all gathered to pick up our excellent packed lunches from the termini and head for the double decker buses. We managed –eventually- to achieve our objective of getting 42 of us onto a tour bus after a certain amount of subterfuge (An Italian tourist guide was heard to say— ‘This is Italy, why make the system simple when it can be complicated?’ - wise words indeed!). The open topped tour was great—if a little chilly—and allowed us to be a little more familiar with the scale of the city and the juxtaposition of the main sites of interest. We embarked on phase 2 by embarking buses in smaller groups. Our objective—ice cream in the Piazza Novana where we would all meet. Mission accomplished it was onto the Pantheon—amazing- and then St Peter’s to pay our respects to Pope Benedict in his local parish church– the Vatican. After this humbling experience it was back on the buses to quickly nip to our pre-arranged Mass at a church near the Trevi Fountain. We planned this without taking into account a) The Roman Traffic system and b) the amazing ability for bus drivers to follow some sort of route that has no similarity whatsoever to the one published in their brochure. A 5 minute ‘hop’ turned into a one hour marathon, and Mass was hopelessly missed. Confession will be a priority on return but we can only assume the driver was an atheist.
The Trevi fountain did not disappoint– it appeared to still be intact and the water was clear! -
Pizza was cheap and hot nearby and so the late afternoon began to turn to evening as we beat a hasty retreat to the warmth of the hotel and the ridiculously wholesome meal at the Terminii.
Day 5 Monday
On a most un-Mediterranean day (cold wind and a little overcast) we set out for the Colosseum, The Palatine Hill and other associated wonders of the ancient capital. Mrs. Simmonds encapsulated the awe we felt at the phenomenal structures we were seeing by saying in England we look at Roman Ruins by looking down by our feet—here in Rome we have to crane our necks upwards!!
Day 6 Tuesday
A complete contrast with our final day. Warm, bright sunshine greeted us as we ambled serenely to the Spanish Steps to spend a little time shopping and just having fun in the park behind the Medici Palace. At last Jordan could play some football, some rode bikes and generally we did what BRJ students do best—hung out with our pals. As it was Rome film week as we were there, there was a buzz around the top of the Spanish Steps as we were setting off back that a certain Mr Cruise was about to appear—certainly the Carabinieri had got rid of all the itinerant street artists and a TV crew were holding a furry appendage aloft— but we had a plane to catch, loved ones to return to and our own treasures to discover back in Shropshire. So we left Tom and co and headed for the airport.
