My Life In Ruins-Pompeii
🏛️ My Life in Ruins Pompeii
Where Ancient History Meets Pink Floyd Dreams
The Journey Begins
Made my way over to the ancient city, via Sorrento, by train, and bus. The pilgrimage to Pompeii isn't just about seeing ruins—it's about connecting with something timeless, something that Pink Floyd understood when they chose this amphitheatre for their legendary 1972 performance.
🚂 The Path to Ancient Dreams
Every step toward Pompeii was a step back in time. The train from Sorrento carried more than passengers—it carried expectations, dreams, and the echo of Floyd's guitars that once rang through these very ruins. This wasn't just tourism; this was a pilgrimage to where rock history met Roman history.
Mistaken Identity
I got mistaken for the driver twice. Some local gave me their bag and another Aussie man asked me how to get to the Amalfi coast. I responded in American(English) and he said, "Grazie Milleu".
🇮🇹 The Italian Connection
I don't mind getting mistaken for an Italian--It's part of my DNA, but a Bus Driver---well, I guess I am that guy "Driving the bus". Sometimes life puts you in the driver's seat when you least expect it. In Italy, surrounded by ancient history, I became the unofficial guide to modern travelers seeking their own piece of the past.
🎭 The Role We Play
There's something profound about being mistaken for someone else in a foreign land. It's not just about appearance—it's about belonging, about the stories we carry in our faces and the histories written in our genes. At Pompeii, where identities were frozen in volcanic ash, I found myself slipping into a new role: the accidental Italian bus driver, helping strangers find their way to ancient wonders.
The 1972 Vision
Thinking of Pink Floyd, Live at Pompeii; the 1972 film of them performing in the Roman amphitheatre.
🎬 Cinematic History
When Pink Floyd chose Pompeii as their stage, they weren't just making a concert film—they were creating a conversation between ancient Rome and modern music. The amphitheatre that once hosted gladiators now hosted some of the most progressive music ever recorded. No audience, just the band, the ruins, and eternity.
Dreams in Stone
If you build it, they will come. The Romans built Pompeii, and for nearly 2,000 years, people have been coming—first as citizens, then as victims of Vesuvius, and finally as pilgrims seeking to understand what was lost and what endures.
🏛️ The Eternal Draw
Pompeii proves that if you build something meaningful enough, people will come not just for decades, but for millennia. The Romans built for permanence, creating structures that would outlast empires. When Pink Floyd arrived in 1972, they recognized what the architects of Pompeii knew: some spaces are designed to hold more than bodies—they're built to hold dreams, music, and memories.
⏰ Frozen in Time
Vesuvius didn't just destroy Pompeii—it preserved it. Like a photograph captured at the moment of disaster, the city became a time capsule. Walking these streets, you're not just seeing ruins; you're seeing a moment frozen in volcanic glass, a civilization caught mid-conversation with eternity.
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
Living the dream—Shine On You Crazy Diamond. In Pompeii, surrounded by the ghosts of ancient Romans and the echoes of Pink Floyd's guitars, you realize that some dreams are bigger than the dreamers. They become part of the landscape, part of history, part of the stones themselves.
🌟 The Crazy Diamond Connection
Syd Barrett, Pink Floyd's original visionary, was the crazy diamond they sang about. He never performed at Pompeii, but his spirit haunts every note played in those ancient walls. Sometimes the most profound art comes from absence—what's missing, what's lost, what we wish we could bring back from the ashes.
🔮 Dreams Made of Stone
Standing in Pompeii, you understand that some dreams outlast the dreamers. The Romans dreamed of an eternal city, and got one—just not the way they expected. Pink Floyd dreamed of music that would transcend time and space, and found the perfect venue in a place where time had already stopped. My dream was simpler: to walk where history and music intersected, to be the bus driver of my own journey through time.
The Eternal Echo
In Pompeii, every footstep is an echo. An echo of the Romans who walked these streets, of the tourists who marvel at the ruins, of Pink Floyd's amplifiers that once shook these ancient walls. The city teaches us that destruction and preservation are sometimes the same thing—that being frozen in time can be a form of immortality.
🎵 The Music of Ruins
Pink Floyd understood something profound about Pompeii: ruins make the perfect acoustic space not because of their architecture, but because of their silence. In a city where no one lives, music becomes conversation with ghosts. Every note reverberates not just off stone walls, but off the accumulated weight of history itself.
🚌 The Journey Continues
As I left Pompeii, mistaken once more for an Italian bus driver, I realized something: maybe that's exactly what I was. Not just driving tourists to archaeological sites, but driving myself through time, through music, through the spaces where dreams and ruins intersect. In Pompeii, we're all drivers and passengers on the same eternal route—from past to present, from silence to music, from life to whatever comes after the volcano.