Few things fuel the imagination like the story of a long-lost city that somehow gets found. And as archaeological tales go, there's probably none better than that of this ancient town in the Campania region of southern Italy.

When Mount Vesuvius suddenly erupted in A.D. 79, it spewed smoke, ash and molten lava some 20 miles into the sky, plunging Pompeii -- a thriving commercial center with about 20,000 residents -- into darkness. The people of Pompeii, along with its temples, baths and buildings, were buried under up to 25 feet of debris.

After the eruption, those who had fled and survived returned to dig through the ash; Emperor Titus offered financial assistance for cleanup and recovery. But the wasteland could not be saved. Abandoned and eventually forgotten, Pompeii lay lost to history for the next 1,500 years until workers digging a canal in the 16th century accidentally stumbled upon its relics. It would take another 200 years before Pompeii was recognized for what it was and truly explored in 1748. Scientific excavations started at the end of the 19th century and have continued systematically ever since.

Today, the archaeological site near Naples is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Italy, drawing more than 2.5 million visitors each year. Many who make the trek are eager for a firsthand look at the famous plaster casts made of some of the victims. But Pompeii is not so much about worshiping the dead as it is getting a firsthand glimpse of how these ancient people lived.

Lessons on ancient life

It sounds trite, but the ancient Roman Empire can't help but come alive when you wander the same raised stone streets -- many still bearing ancient cart-wheel tracks -- that carried Pompeians about their daily business: to the Temple of Apollo, the town's most important religious building; across the street to the rectangular Basilica, where justice was administered, and to the colonnade-lined Forum, a busy shopping area where elections were held and official announcements made.

Walking those streets, I learned that people in the first century enjoyed snack bars along with public baths and bought their daily bread from bakeries. And that social life revolved around the peristyle, an interior garden surrounded by a colonnade of porticos. Proof was right in front of me: the thermopolia, with their terra-cotta containers sunk into masonry counters, where people would have bought hot food and drinks (it was customary to eat lunch outside the home); the House of the Baker, with its machinery for grinding wheat and giant, vaulted oven; the richly decorated walls in the atrium of the House of the Small Fountain.

The sheer scale of Pompeii is staggering. The archaeological area covers more than 163 acres, of which about 111 have been excavated. Even with a schematic map, it's easy to get lost amid the ruins, because building numbers on the audio tour (a must) didn't seem to match up with the numbers posted on the buildings. It wasn't until we found ourselves in front of the Forum that we managed to get our bearings.

The most haunting site was the last stop of the day: the Garden of the Fugitives, a former farm in the shadow of Vesuvius. On these grounds, 13 doomed Pompeians were overtaken by a toxic cloud of blistering sulfurous gas as they tried to escape. In 1860, archaeologist Giuseppe Fiorelli devised a method of producing casts of the victims by pouring liquid plaster into the cavities left in the hardened ash by the decomposed bodies. Today, the three families are encased in glass, children still close to their parents.

I'd hoped to round out the day with a visit to the ancient ruins of Herculaneum, just 9 miles northwest. Smaller and wealthier than Pompeii, this seaside resort was buried under a river of semiliquid volcanic mud when Vesuvius blew its top nearly 2,000 years ago. According to our guidebook, it's actually better preserved than its more famous cousin, with some of its original wooden staircases and furniture on display. But I was too hot, too tired and emotionally spent.

Next time, I'll squeeze in a climb to the summit of Vesuvius, which when the weather is clear offers a stupendous view of the Bay of Naples. Sure, it's still an active volcano (it's erupted three times since 1906). But it's only from that perch some 4,200 feet above the sea that you can fully appreciate the magnitude of its power and the devastation it rained down on so many people so long ago.