It was some time ago. Having just dropped off some friends at the airport in time for their return flight I thought I’d head back and have a butchers as it was something I especially wanted to see and we didn’t get the time during our stay. It was late, dark and the place was deserted so I parked the car nearby and was fortunate enough to find a hole in the wire fence. Checking for security dogs and cameras and finding neither i made my way in side. All the light were off save for a few security lights which come on when my movement was detected. I made a note so I could avoid them if I need to retreat quickly I then proceeded on my own private tour. Imagining the noise , terror and panic on the now excavated streets was incredible. The speed at which the pyroclastic event took hold was frightening. Ordinary people going about their daily routine, bakers, fish mongers, potters all caught out to a terrible inferno of molten ash and lava There’s a particular road you can walk down where you can see into peoples homes, whole families solidified, trapped forever in time, forever now on display. Peering through the metal grille and into the darkness of what seemed a living room I could make out the shadowy lone figure sat in an armchair watching what appeared to be Parkinson on the telly. Happy days.
