The Hamlet Project

Robyn and I went to Pompeii. Rachel had gone back to Paris and Robyn and I thought we’d see one more sight before the end of our holidays.
It was a grey day to walk among the remains of the city. We wandered the streets, looking at walls that withstood the destructive force of the volcano, wondering what we shouldn’t miss. I had a guide book, or a brochure, and I had discovered that one of the buildings that remained relatively intact was a brothel. It sounded like a very compelling building to see. We giggled about it. Two American college-girls getting our dose of culture but still interested in sex, too, of course. What would we see in the remains of a house of sale? We wandered around for a long long time looking for it. We thought about asking for directions but I’d never learned the Italian word for brothel in my language studies and it wasn’t something I was interested in describing for someone.
After our feet were worn out and our tourist eyes exhausted by the stone, I finally gave it a shot. I think I described the bordello as a house for women. The house where men buy women? I’m not sure I got any further than the “house for women” before the guard said “Il Bordello?” and I felt like an utter fool. We never found it either. It was too far from where we were. We just went to the theatre, sat there for awhile and called it a day.