Rome Day 7

Warning you that this post is incredibly long seems unnecessary at this point. But seriously, your cheese is gonna get moldy and your bananas will rot while you read this thing.  If you read this thing.  I understand if you have to give up now.  See ya next week.


Of Course Rome wasn't built in a day, but we saw it in one. And now, by way of my propensity for over-sharing, you can too.

Luckily, Mom had been to Rome before and knew the only way we could squeeze it all into our tight time frame was to hire a driver.  Split three ways, Franco wasn't too expensive and the day never could have happened without him.

My sixth grade self was so, so excited to see Rome.  But I must admit that all along our journey, as small talk with strangers would lead to discussions of the itinerary, the number of people "warning" us about Rome raised my hackles a little.  Or a lot.  Stories of purse snatching and muggings jangled in my head so loudly that as we initially stepped off the train onto Roman soil, I wore my purse cross ways under my coat with my back pack on top and I was on high alert, eyes constantly scanning and ready to kick any would-be assailants where it counts.

Of all of our accommodations on the trip, this hotel was nice enough itself, but was not located in an area that I would like to stay in again. Also, the bed was about as comfortable as a parking lot.

In the morning, once we got hooked up with Franco, I felt a lot better. He wasn't a tour guide per se, just a driver, but he did have quite a bit of knowledge to share and he knew where he was going, the best way to get us there, and generally helped me feel that we weren't going to get robbed.

He started us off with the Colosseum.

 Before we got out, he gave us a little history lesson. He told us about the fighting; gladiator vs. gladiator and gladiator vs. animal. The gladiators were forced to participate and the fights were usually to the death.  In the case of man vs man, when one was about to kill the other he looked to the emperor, who by way of the audience's boos or cheers, gave the final word to kill him or let him live.

Franco's refresher, plus actually seeing the Colosseum with my own eyes, made what he was saying so much more real than it had ever been.  Real people, were forced against their will, to be executed by man or beast, while thousands of other real people, watched for pleasure and entertainment at the ultimate expense.  Crazy.  Kind of Hunger Gamesy, except it really happened.

He told us about a monk, Telemachus, who, tired of the ruthless killing for sport, walked right into the middle of an event and demanded that the killing stop.  The monk was stoned to death by the infuriated crowd.

Shortly after, they decided that maybe he was right and the Gladiatorial Games were put to an end.

Poor guy. His bravery paid off, but he didn't even get to see it.

From the Colosseum, we walked to Palatine hill where Rome was founded, past all kinds of ancient ruins, all the way around to the ancient forum.

My photographic affair with the Umbrella Pines continued.

On we went to the Circus Maximus.

Next we went to the Keyhole.  The Sovereign Military Order of Malta's (SOMA) building sits on one of the Roman hills (there are seven).  The story goes, that when this property of Malta was built, the Romans were outraged because it was against the law to block the view of St. Peter's.  But Malta had planned for this.  The Keyhole, when looked through, frames the cupola of St. Peter's perfectly.

I only had time to stick my iphone up to the hole and press the button. Obviously it takes a little more time and fancy camera work to get a good shot.  You'll have to pretend you see the cupola of St. Peter's right there in the center of that overexposed white spot. The real view is very spectacular and shows three nations in one view-Malta, Italy, and the Vatican (its own country).

From there we drove past what the Roman's call the "Wedding Cake."  I have no idea what it really is.

We also saw the famous balcony where Mussolini gave his speeches.

The city is home to some very ancient Obelisks which the Romans "borrowed" from the ancient Egyptians.

 

We went to the Spanish Steps.  I can't remember their significance either.  I could look it up right now but I don't really feel like it.

But lots of people wanted to sit on them.

At their base was Bernini's boat.

One of the little things I found so cool about Italy was the presence of fountains, big and small, but all drinkable.

We stopped by the Piazza del Campidoglio, which was another showcase of the incredible genius of Michelangelo.  Featured were his architecture and statues. They were beautiful.

We made it to Trevi fountain, also an aesthetic masterpiece.

 Hoards of people surround it at all times of the day.

There is just something about it.  As per the superstition, we each threw a coin in over our shoulder  and wished to come back to Rome.

My mom pointed out that it had worked for her. I hope I'm as lucky.


Wait, what's that?  You'd like to go to the Trevi fountain?  Well, you're in luck, press that traingle and you'll be hearing the water in no time.

Next up was the Pantheon, the temple to all the ancient Roman gods.

I find myself running out of words for this  post.  I know it doesn't look like it given the length, but Amazing! Awesome! So cool! are all I can think of and they don't even begin to describe these places quite right. It was all of those and then some.

Rebuilt in 126 A.D.,the concrete dome is still the largest in the world and is made from one solid piece.  I stood in there and tried to imagine just how the building was put together all that time ago without any use of the modern equipment we use today, and I just gave up.


The oculous in the center of the dome is open all year round.

Franco told us that the one time many years ago it actually snowed in Rome, everyone wanted to get over to the Pantheon to see the snow inside.

 It was somewhere around here that I reached my saturation point. Like a soggy sponge, I literally felt that I could take in no more.  I could not adjust the aperture or shutter speed of one more picture. I could not walk to one more site.  I was so tired.  I had absorbed so much scenery, information, inspiration, memories, photographs, and stimulus, in the previous 6 days that I kind of mentally shut down.  I wanted to take the camera off my neck and not care about one more single thing.  But I didn't.  Instead I moved the little wheel on my camera over to auto and told myself to just hold it up and press the button.  Someday down the road I would be disappointed if I missed the second half of the day.

Luckily, lunch was next.  Franco took us to a family owned restaurant and promised us that the food was authentic, reasonable, and delicious.  We didn't know on our way in, but we sure as heck knew on our way out, that Franco was a genius.

The language barrier was a curse, turned blessing.  The waiter explained the lunch options and we settled on a sampling of the menu designed for four people for 20 euros.  We knew it was going to be reasonable but we never imagined it would be that good.  Sign us up!

The platters started coming out and we started heaping our plates.  Oh! Oh!Oh!

It was the best meal I have ever eaten in my whole life, bar none. And all I have to show for it are a couple of bad phone pics.

We had a slightly funny instance when our water was running low.  The waiter left to get us some more but knowing he was about to open another 6 euro bottle of water that we had no desire to pay for, we refilled our glasses from a bottle we had in one of our bags.  And then the look on his face when he returned to our now-full glasses was quite amusing.

Then they brought the bill. Apparently, the price was 20 euros person, not total.  We knew that meal had been too good to be true.  But seeing as how it was literally some of the best food our tongues had ever touched, we decided it was worth it.  Indeed a happy ending because we never would have ordered it if we'd known the real price beforehand.

I'm so glad we didn't (still don't) speak Italian!

From the restaurant we went to Vatican City.

I didn't remember that it was it's own country.  In fact, it is the wealthiest country in the entire world.  They have their own currency.  Only about 800 people live there, mostly clergy. And you can imagine the amount of money they rake in just from admission tickets alone.

To get to the Sistine Chapel you must first walk through the Vatican Musuem.  It is just so...much.  Every surface, every detail, just so...much.  Your eyes don't know where to look.

Hallway after hallway, vestibule after vestibule.

 It was good I had surrendered by this point and was randomly shooting pictures because actually trying to take it all in might have led to a nervous breakdown.

Tapestries lined the walls.

Even the floor was a work of art.

  We tried to follow the signs for the shortcut to the Sistine Chapel, but it didn't feel that short.

I couldn't resist this depiction of God and Jesus as separate beings. Seems pretty simple to me.

So much art and history per square inch.

And then we arrived.  I have no pictures because photographs in the Sistine Chapel are strictly forbidden.  In fact, security guards wander the crowds aggressively enforcing the no photo policy.  If they even suspect you have taken some they stop you and make you show them the pictures in your phone, ipad, camera.  One poor guy I saw got busted.  The guard went through his pictures yelling, "Delete! Delete! Delete!"

I also found their method at crowd control quite interesting.  Every few minutes a voice would yell over the loudspeaker, "SSHHHHHH! SILENCIO! BE QUIET! THIS IS A HOLY PLACE!" Indeed it was.  And the crowd was disrespectfully loud.  But that screaming through the speaker didn't do much to help the holy feeling.

Man, it was amazing though.  I decided in those moments, staring at the ceiling, taking pictures in my mind, that I must read The Agony and the Ecstasy.  Haven't done it yet but it's on my list.  Michelangelo started when he was 33 years old and it took him four years to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  He considered himself a sculptor more than a painter and didn't really even want to paint the Sistine Chapel, but it was by the Pope's request. I think when the Pope asks you to do something, you just do it.

Seems stupid to say it was amazing, but it just was.


From there we went over to St. Peter's Basilica.

The Pope's house is secured by Swiss guards.

 And if I thought the Vatican Museum was "much", St. Peter's was "mucher".

Inside, the ceilings, walls, everything are ornate and busy and gorgeous.  But also inside is La Pieta.  Michelangelo steals the show again.

I have this one picture.

 And it does absolutely no justice.  It's Mary holding the crucified body of Christ.  I stood there, and I stared, and I cried.  Huge shocker, I know. And I know I was really tired and all, but I do not have the words to describe the feelings brought on by that sculpture in person.


We wandered and took some more photos.

We left and met back up with Franco.  He took us back to our hotel and gifted us with some very perfumey fake flowers.


We grabbed dinner from a deli because we knew our real and final mission was to find gelato.  Which we did.

We stopped at a little corner store on the our way back and bought a few things to take home.

 We slept in our concrete beds.  And the next morning at 4am, we were on our way to the airport, totally ready to go home. Not a day too soon, not a day too late. Perfect timing.

We parted ways with Leah and boarded our plane bound for Amsterdam (and then home).

Wow.

My favorite Latin phrase seems totally appropriate at this point.

Veni, vidi, vici.

We came, we saw, we conquered.


And we loved it!