Youth (3)

Need I say that I was both excited and a little afraid over this
upcoming adventure to Athens. But there were the practicalities
of making travel arrangements as well as packing for the stay.
Happily my father attended to our travel needs. He was adept
in these manners, in that he was a well known shipper. Alas,
it was left to me to pack, to figure what I need take for a year
away from home.

Of course clothing is the first priority. There was my toga, which
I received as the symbol of manhood on my fourteenth birthday.
Actually I had two, one made of wool for cold temperatures and
another lighter weight toga for when it was hot. As a member of
the Equestrian Order, from the shoulder of my toga on down
there was a narrow purple stripe. And my tunics had the narrow
purple stripe on their bottom edges. (Senatorial patricians wore
a wide purple stripe on their clothing.)

Class distinctions not only were reflected in our clothing, but
also we *equites* wore a distinctive gold ring that allowed for
certain imperial privileges. My father had the artisan make a
simple gold ring with our family seal imprinted upon it. This way
we could identify ourself, whether engaging in contractural
agreements or other types of affairs. Father made sure I had
my ring before I embarked on this trip to Athens.

Financially we prepared to take some money with us, but
beforehand my father made promissory financial arrangements
with friendly Greek shippers he knew from business encounters.
So at last we were about to embark. We left almost immediately
following winter's rainy season, because we needed to reach
Athens by the spring solstice. The special schools that we
youngsters were to attend started early, in order to beat the
heat of the really hot mid-summer in Athens.

Quint and I boarded a small passenger ship at the Port of Ostia.
Loaded down with several trunks, plus a handy food and water
supply, we were told that for the most part we would stay out on
deck. Interestingly, there were spaces with hooks that marked
our living quarters. We were given folding tents that we could
attach to the hooks. They provided shelter from the sun as well
as from any inclemency in the weather. Father had wisely
suggested we rush for a space astern the ship, in that this would
protect us from the wind always present on the forward side of
the ship. Good advice!

At last we were on our way. The first leg of our journey was to
reach the port of Naples, where we would board a second, larger
passenger ship that would take us on to Greece. We clung close
to the Italian coast, and at one point we sailed between the coast
and the Island of Capri. As I gazed at its beauty, little did I know
then how much time I would spend on that island later.

Mainly I was simply enthralled looking out towards Southern
Italy. Full of tropical greenery, one could peer further and
see the great mountains looming more inland. We had hills
around Rome, but nothing like these gorgeous mountains.
At last we entered the port of Naples.

We spent a few days in Naples. We had already unloaded our
trunks and secured our space on the larger passenger ship
taking us to Greece--but we had two days before it was
scheduled to leave. The first day we did some sightseeing.
A big polyglot of a town, Naples was both fascinating and smelled
of the sea. Fishermen had their stalls everywhere. In all my
few years I finally felt that I was entering a different, unfamiliar
world. The thought invigorated me! However, we had to get
down to business--so Quint and I had to spend our second day
acquiring more food and water. And on the early morn of the
third day, we set sail.

A short time after we left port both the former sites of Pompeii
and Herculaneum were pointed out to us. Even I knew about
their destruction by the volcano Vesuvius six years before my birth.
Reaching the Strait of Messina we made a stop at a Sicilian port
for more supplies; but, soon we were off again, rounding the boot
and heel of Italy. Again, another port stop for supplies. However,
it was at this point where our ship would be entering what some
call the "danger zone." We had to sail across some seventy miles
of open waters.

In our case we had to traverse the Strait of Otranto that would
lead us into the Ionian Sea and a Greek port. One could only
pray that we would not be beset by a storm or strong waves.
Everyone aboard gave a great sigh of relief when, at last, we
approached the coastline of Greece. We stopped at more
ports along the way as we headed south. When we reached
the entrance into the Gulf of Corinth, we entered sailing east
towards the direction of Athens.

Unfortunately we soon discovered we couldn't actually sail
into Athens directly from this route. By caravan we had to go
about fifty miles across land to reach Athens. Weary from all
the travel, my spirit suddenly soared when I saw the ancient
Acropolis in the distance. We had arrived, and I was more
than willing to let Quint make the lodging and schooling
arrangements. Me? I just collapsed and took my leisure.
Mine was a short respite, however, because my new
Greco-Roman education was about to begin!