One Day In Pompeii
My brother Peter has invited me to write a story about my day in Pompeii with Carly, my daughter, so I’m going to attempt to tell you here in writing about the joy and the pain of our day there together. Having done this, he has given me the great gift of revisiting that day. The absolute ecstasy, pain and hilarity that we encountered on our outing to Pompeii in 2014. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a desire to visit Pompeii. I’ve read books about it. I’ve watched films and docos. I was in Sydney once, and the previous night I’d been to the “Gay and Lesbian Sleaze Ball”. I knew that there was a Pompeii exhibition at the museum. I was wandering down Oxford Street and realised I was around the corner from the exhibition. I was alone and had the time. I remember standing in line waiting to get to the ticket box and go in to view the exhibition, when all of a sudden I just burst into tears. So much so that I was sobbing. I don’t know if it was the drugs from the prev