Off the Couch and On the Road

I woke up with a head full of curls, and that’s never a good sign. It was raining, bucketing down. But with my hostel not within walking distance of anything, and the rooms closed during the day anyway - it looked as though I was going to have to face the weather.

I found the bus stop, hopped on, realised I didn’t have a ticket and couldn’t buy one from the driver, and managed to hop off somewhere near where I needed to be without paying anything. It seemed the best place to spend a rainy day was in the Vatican Museums (anbd Lord knows I needed some church time after gipping the Italian transport system within 24 hours of being in the country). I bought an unbrella and a map, and found a queue 5 blocks long full of tourists. I’d found the Vatican.

I can tell you, my vision of a summer holiday in Europe did not involve getting soaking wet and cold for two hours while standing on a street corner, but I listened to some happy music on my iPod and thought of the upsides. I was in Rome!! I was on holoidays!! I was at the Vatican!! It helped slightly.

Once inside, the weather was forgotten and I was able to enjoy the Vatican Museums, which cover 5.5 hectares and includes treasures from a gazillion popes over billions of years (it seemed. Don’t quote me on the facts here, people). It took me a good few hours to go through it all, and there was still room for the guilt that I wasn’t able to enjoy it for as long as I would have liked.

There were galleries of floor to ceiling maps, tapestries and statues, as well as several masterpieces by Raphael, all ending with the highlight of the Sistine Chapel - the private chapel built in 1473 for Pope Sixtus IV which showcases Michelangelo’s ‘Creation’ and the ‘Last Judgement’. It was humbling, for sure, and amazing that so much detail went into the art - even some of the tapestries had the subjects’ eyes glistening with tears (ok, so I tagged onto a few American tours along the way).

By the time I stepped out into the daylight, it was sunny with blue skies. Who would have thought. I joined another queue, this time for St Peter’s Basilica, where old Saint Pete himself was buried, with the dome designed by Michelangelo.

I walked up 300 stairs to the dome at the top of the church, spent an hour sitting in between two nuns in the prayer hall without realising, and marvelled at the beauty of the various scultures, painting, and the not-so-beautiful preserved bodies of Popes along the way (what is it with me and seeing dead bodies on this trip? I’m only two months in and I’ve lost count). Michelangelo’s ‘Pieta’ statue was also on display, scultured when he was only 24.

By the time I’d left the Vatican, I was feeling much warmer, drier and happier, and wandered along some back streets until I found the artists’ hotspot of Piazza Navona square, and ATM, a bus ticket outlet, and gelato. Prayers do get answered.

I decided to have an early supper so I could find my way back home before dark, eating at a little cafe off the Piazza. I apparently wasn’t allowed to dine alone, so the waiter sat with me while I explained between mouthfuls that not all Australian men are gay, and that yes, Kangaroos rock. They are very beautiful. Not as beautiful as Rome though, of course not. How silly of me.

-Sarah

 Print This Post

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 6th, 2007 at 12:46 am and is filed under Italy, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.