Day 1: Arrival in NYC
After Murphy's attempts leading up to our vacation, as well as the Snafu Opening Ceremony on Tuesday morning -- Don having misread the train schedule, resulting in an hour's wait at our town's platform (oh, how does a seasoned commuter do such a thing?!) -- we finally made our way and landed in the city. I knew our hotel was a few blocks from Penn Station; what I didn't realize was that it was literally in the shadow of the Empire State Building. That was a cool surprise. The weather was gray, drizzly, and chilly, but I was determined not to let it spoil the mood.
"A Room With a View"
12 vertigo-inducing stories up
(as an acrophobic, I unfortunately had to keep the drapes closed)
12 vertigo-inducing stories up
(as an acrophobic, I unfortunately had to keep the drapes closed)
Our first stop after lunch was the Pompeii Exhibit at Discovery Times Square. It was all I imagined it would be, breathtaking from the very first step into that uncovered world. We were first ushered into a small room to watch an introductory movie about Pompeii and then made our way into the first exhibit room. Breathtaking, indeed -- I literally stopped in my tracks as I stood face to face with a larger-than-life statue, set in a reconstructed walled garden of someone's ancient home. The walls were decorated beautifully, preserved nearly perfectly, as were all of the reconstructions -- some brightly painted over plaster, others intricately adorned with mosaics of tile and glass, seashells and colored stones. I felt that very rare sensation of having stepped out of a time machine, finding myself face to face with ancient history. Again, breathtaking. There's no other word for it.
The artifacts were lovely, intriguing, fascinating -- a multitude of items ranging from entire statues and segments of painted and plastered walls to tiny elements such as buttons and jewelry. Amphorae and cooking implements were many, and it was fascinating to see carbonized peach pits and olives, loaves of bread and other foods. Elements of daily life were abundant, ranging from mini-shrines to a Gladiator's helmet and even a pair of loaded dice. Parents were cautioned to use their discretion entering a small corner of a room, representing a brothel and boldly displaying the oh-so-NOT-Victorian scenes that were perfectly preserved. A favorite quote was featured, graffiti on one brothel wall: "I came, I had sex, I went home." Human nature ...Of course, technology played a great -- and welcomed -- role, with interactive touch screens scattered throughout, allowing the viewer to focus on a particular item, or "explore" a reconstructed villa room by beautiful room. I always enjoying seeing such representations, making it as "real" as it can possibly be.
The most moving, and harrowing, part of the tour was, of course, the actual eruption of Vesuvius and its grisly aftermath. Once again we were ushered into a room, after having just explored the beautiful and lush surroundings of Pompeian daily life. Another screen, this one much larger and more encompassing, and a foreboding darkness. A street scene came on the screen, digitally rendered from a spectator's view on a higher point on a house. One could see down into a courtyard, roofs of nearby buildings and homes, and in the distance loomed the volcano. It began at a certain time, which flashed in the corner, and it then proceeded in a time-lapsed manner. Daytime -- calm, beautifully, sunny, normal. But then a rumbling began, slowly yet steadily, the room itself beginning to shake slightly while smoke began to seep out of the mouth of Vesuvius. Dogs began to bark, voices were raised. Then it was quiet. The time clock fast-forwarded to later in the afternoon. The rumbling began again, this time with more vehemence. Roof tiles began to rattle, some falling off and crashing to the ground. A statue fell over; babies began crying. Black smoke now poured from Vesuvius; the sky began to darken. The "movie" continued in this way, the time clock flashing the events, as the devastation -- so lifelike -- continued. Fires erupted, buildings collapsed, ash and pumice pelted down, until finally the streets disappeared.
The final moments were truly eerie. In the distance, the dark gray cloud of the pyroclastic flow began to pour down the mountain. It rolled closer and closer; the room shook vehemently. The noise was almost deafening. In almost 3-D fashion, we truly felt we were there, about to be consumed. Finally, the "cloud" overtook the entire screen -- overtaking us -- while at the same time an incredibly strong rush of wind blew through the room, almost causing us to step backward with its force. Then, as we stood there in complete silence, in "death," the screen parted and a curtain rose. We were looking into a very dark room -- we were looking into the face of the first victim:
This was our introduction to the body cast room. It was disturbing to say the least ... It sounds so crass to say it was outrageously cool, but ... well, it was that too. This was the room I most wanted to see -- these were real people, literally caught in a moment of time. We slowly wandered between the casts -- women, men, children, and even a pig and a dog. The children were the most difficult emotionally to see, some about the same size as my own kids. I found myself getting a bit overwhelmed by the dog too, after reading his "story" about how he was chained up to the guard the house while the owners tried to flee. The poor dog didn't have a chance. You could see his tumbled form, the details of his collar perfectly clear. The only thing remaining were the two bronze rings, still attached. Amazing detail.
One woman was lying on her stomach, her tunic bunched up around her waist as she tried to cover her face with it. One man was holding his wife, trying to protect her. A family of four were found together in the basement of their home, the mother half-lying over one of her children in a protective stance. The detail on one child in particular was astounding, the folds of his sleeveless tunic clearly visible, as were his facial features and eyelashes. Unsettling, eerie, frozen in time. And so very, very real.
OK ... you might think this is a pretty bizarre and macabre way to celebrate our anniversary. But we're "history geeks," and have always appreciated experiencing history. And this exhibit delivered in a profound, powerful way. We didn't do too much after that, other than having a fantastic dinner at a "high end" Mexican restaurant which was wonderfully delicious. A perfect way to end Day #1.Coming Up ...
Day #2! The Met, sore feet, a night out amid the masses at Times Square, and Murphy's Snafu that ended up being one of the best highlights of the trip!
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