Broam K's Italian Saga: Day VII (Pt. II - The Vatican)

(continued)

As we entered through the gates of Vatican City, we were forced to pass through Customs (which makes perfect sense, seeing how the Vatican is its own country and all. . . even if it is the smallest country in the world).  I had to pass my Maxpedition pack and my SLR through a series of metal detectors, but they didn't assk for my travel umbrella (they were confiscating full-size umbrellas, though).  I was hoping to get my passport stamped, but they didn't want it.  I guess congestion in the Vatican is so bad that they don't even mess with it.

Pope Frankie welcomes tourists to his crib.

'Gather 'round, group of forty tourists, and check out this small screen!'

And it was congested, too.  Holy shit (get it?)

Rome was by far the busiest city we've been to, and the Vatican's even worse (if that were even possible).  Following an insanely boring Sistine Chapel presentation on a 36" x 24" touchscreen display (I'm assuming we had to sit through this due to the fact that video and pictures are strictly prohibited inside the Chapel itself), it was time to set off into the gauntlet that is the Vatican Museum.

Admission ticket into the Vatican (F.Y.I that's Plato on the Left and Aristotle on the Right,  just in case you were curious.)

That green-ish stone pedestal behind the tree there is all that remains of the honorary column for Roman emperor Antoninus Pius (known as one of the 'Good Emperors' of the Pax Romana).  In the background, behold the Dome of St. Pete's Basilica. . .

The entrance into the Vatican Museum.  Also a big-ass bronze ball.

One of the walls of the courtyard, around which the different wings of the Vatican Museum circumvents.

Yes, that's a giant pine cone.

For those of you un-versed in all things Vaticanal, this museum is hundreds and hundreds of meters long, with floor-to-ceiling, priceless art and relics covering nearly every square inch of the complex.  In the first wing of the museum we ventured down, the pieces dated back to antiquity, and most of them had their origins in the mighty Roman Empire.

The head of Caesar Augustus, Rome's first emperor.  This is all that remains of a huge statue of the late ruler - I believe the rest was destroyed when Rome was sacked by the Vandals.  The head itself - not the pedestal - is about eight feet high, so it was a pretty big statue.

By far my favorite exhibit in the Vatican, the Roman wing of the museum featured mostly statues and scultpures of gods and goddesses, mythical heroes and creatures, emperors, generals, animals, and folk heroes.  Some famous recognizable works of art, others crude, nameless piecs that are only famous because they survived the Fall of Rome in 476 AD. 

Emperor Trajan and other Roman politicans. . .

Since Roman history happens to be one of my favorite subjects, it should go without saying that I took a shitload of pictures:

Pretty sure that's a Romanized version of Hermes.

I imagine this guy was just looking for a refill - he looks kinda annoyed.  I would, too, if my wine vessel was empty.

The very first statue the Vatican acquired for its museum: the Roman masterpiece  Laocoön and His Sons, sculpted around 42 BC.

In case you guys aren't well versed in the ancient works of Virgil, Sophocles, or - more famously - Homer's Illiad,  Laocoön was the Trojan priest who tried to warn the idiots of Troy that the Trojan Horse was hollow - and probably hiding something sinister (say, Greek hoplites) - by throwing a spear at it.  Anyway, Poseidon got pissed and had sea serpents strangle him and his two sons as punishment, which, one can assume, probably hurt like a bitch.

Our tour guide. . . boring high school chicks to death.

One of the 'animal rooms,' housing a bunch of animal-themed, Roman statues.

Entering one of the wing's massive Rotundas. . .

The Belvedere Torso.  This is one of the most famous statues in the Vatican, and apparently all the great Renaissance masters would come to admire it, study it, and try and emulate it.  For the life of me, I have no idea why. . .

The famous bust of Pericles, Athens' greatest king, who ruled during the Golden Age of Greece.

Ceiling of a Rotunda

A coursing sea of cameras

Granted, I would've taken even more pictures if it weren't for the break-neck pace in which our tour guide hurried us along.  Whenever I tarried too long in front of one relic, I'd have to scramble like a madman just to get back to my group.

Every tour group was in the same boat, too, by the looks of things - we were all like a giant herd of camera-laden cattle, being corralled through exhibit after exhibit, dumbly shuffling forward and bumping into each other like a sweaty pack of idiots.

After the Roman wing, we came upon the Medieval wing (which was a given, seeing how the Fall of Rome literally started the Medieval Age).  Anyway, this wing focused primarily on tapestries - giant masterpieces, all focusing on different stories/events from the New Testament (in the traditional Medieval gothic style, of course).

Our tour guide, forcing us along through the Gallery of Tapestries.  Her pace didn't slow down in the slightest. . .

Apart from the sheer intricacy of these woven tapestries, what struck me most about them was their daunting size - many were easily 30 feet in height and nearly three times as long.

That's an ass-ton of sewing, fellas. . .

Surprise, bitches!

'Massacre of the Innocents' - something from the Bible, I assume.

Jesus and company chow down. . .

Julius Caesar gets his shit rocked.

Over-priced crap, courtesy of the Vatican

This stretch, like all those that preceded it, was long and jam-packed with people.  I was getting pretty pissed off with tourists (hypocritical as that sounds, I know), but was even more agitated by the presence of occassional souvenir tables that began to pop up here and there.

Seriously.

Postcards, calendars, books, magnets, knick-knacks, you name it - the Vatican was selling it.  In the holiest place on earth.  Souvenir stands.

Absolutely disgusting:

Anyway, once clear of the tapestries, we entered the Renaissance wing.  Here, we first passed through the Map Gallery, where the popes of the 1500s had giant, physical maps of the different physical regions of Italy - Umbria, Campania, Etruria, etc. - painted with impressive detail (for the 1500s - let's be serious here, folks. . . they didn't have aerial photography or Google Earth yet):

Yes, that chick's holding a head.

Along this corridor, sprawling across the vaulted ceiling, were Renaissance paintings (again, usually scenes from the Bible - it is the Vatican, after all).

Past the Map Gallery were several domed rotundas, each showcasing numerous paintings from the masters of the Renaissance (Some famous, others only to art affeciandos).   They varied size from post-card size pictures behind bullet-proof glass to humongous, wall murals that you could walk up and touch:

Entering the tomb of. . . somebody famous.  I don't know, I forget.

Whoever they were, I'm guessing they were rich. . . this room is pretty fancy.

This was the warm-up to the most famous room in the Vatican (artistically, at least):  the Sistine Chapel. 

Honestly, once we entered the hallowed sanctuary, I didn't see the huge difference between Michelangelo's ceiling and the works we had seen in the many corridors leading up to it.  Don't get me wrong - its really impressive and everything - but all of the priceless art you see leading up to it kinda diminishes the Chapel's aesthetical impact. 

Know what I mean, Verne?

Interior of the Sistine Chapel

I wanted nothing more than to take copious amounts of pictures and video (those here are courtesy of Google), but just like so many of the other Basilicas, churches, cathedrals, temples, and shrines we've seen so far this week, there was none of that to be had inside the Sistine Chapel.

Damn you very much, Vatican.

To make matters worse, there were numerous guards dispered throughout the packed room whose apparent, sole function was to make the viewing of the Sistine Chapel as miserable as possible for we tourists.  Besides barking at tourists for taking pictures and video, they were constantly shouting "Silenzo!" (which ironically defeats the purpose).

A few tourists - fortunately not from our group - were actually ejected from the room for constistent talking.

I really wanted to sneak a few pictures - after all, it is the Sistine Chapel - but after seeing the tourists being led out of the room with their cameras confiscated, I decided against it.

It was significantly more crowded when we were there. . .

I mean, honestly - I can always look up images online (like these ones, here) if I'm really hard up for them.  That, or go ride Spaceship Earth at Epcot back home.

Either way.

One week earlier. . .

To be honest, more humbling than Michelangelo's masterpiece was the fact that, not a week earlier, the Conclave of Cardinals had stood in the very room we were now standing in and selected the new head of the Catholic Church:  Pope Frankie I. 

The whole affair had almost prevented us from touring the Vatican altogether, but fortunately those Cardinals got their shit together pretty quick-like.  I'm glad I didn't miss out on all that artwork.

After about twenty minutes of neck-craning within the walls of the Sistine Chapel, we exited out into St. Peter's Square, where they were busy setting up for Pople Frankie's big Easter sermon.

All the folding chairs and stage set-ups kinda distracted from the overall impression of the piazza and all, but hey - what are you gonna do.

Chairs begin to assemble in St. Peter's Square. . .

I know how this chick feels. . .

Dozens upon dozens of these statues line the square of St. Peter's.  Its probably a safe bet to assume they're all rich, famous people from Christianity's history, and not just a bunch of random guys. . .

There was one, last stop in our group's Vatican excursion:  St. Peter's Basilica.

The 'front porch' -  for lack of better term - of St. Peter's Basilica.

One of the doors leading into the church (and yes, I took this picture purposely to capture the couple having their picture taken at the bottom.)

See that balcony up there at the center?  The fancy one?  That's where the guy in the funny hat makes speeches.

The largest and grandest church in Christendom, St. Peter's does not disappoint.  It blows the Duomo, the Basilicas of St. Mark's in Venice, St. Francis' Basilica in Assisi, the Orsenmichele, and every other church we've stepped in this week out of the water and then some, majestically heralding its status as the world's most impressive cathedral:

Every square inch of this cathedral is either painted in frescoes, carved from stone, worked from expensive colored marble, or both.  The ceiling is vaulted, as usual, and in the main sanctuary it rises up to a gigantic dome that's magnitude is only surpassed by that of the Pantheon (which I'll get to in a bit).

As I tend to do during every major stop on our EF guided tours, I once gain wandered off on my lonesome and explored the Basilica at my own pace.

Behold another slew of pictures:

Michelangelo's Pieta. . . behind bulletproof glass.

I found myself among a group of Asian tourists, whose frenzied rate of picture-taking rivaled my own.

At one point, I had to elbow one of them - some short homeboy in his mid-40s - who kept shoving his way past me, without excusing himself, in order to get a better shooting vantage (which I had naturally staked out myself).  The third time he tried doing it, I just elbowed him back a few paces.

He wasn't very happy about it, but I didn't care all that much.  It's not everyday you get to hang out in Pope Frankie's crib.

What the hell is the guy on the right looking at, here?  He's definitely not paying attention to what Beehive Hat Guy is saying, and it's probably something of importance.

Another shrine and painting, this one depicting Superman when he's really old and a bunch of naked, flying babies.

I look drunk here.  I'm not, but I really wanted to be after dealing the crowds of Japanese tourists.

I think the guy in the chair is Walder Frey.  I may be wrong.

A nun.  Doin' her thang.

These guys in clown outfits are the infamous Swiss Guard.  They genetically lack the ability to smile.

This guy's about to get Swiss on someone's ass. . .

After awhile, I met up with my group as we once again made our way into St. Peter's Square.  This time, however, we ventured down through it, past the obelisk in the center to exit out to - surprise, surprise - a gift shop.  Here, evidentely, the priests and bishops of the Vatican could bless any of the items available in the store - chiefly rosaries, jewelry, religious knicks-knacks, and the like.

St. Peter's Basilica (you can barely make out the dome at the center)

That lady in the red jacket walking behind me with the videocamera was talking to herself.  

More of St. Peter's Square

An Egyptian obelisk in the midst of the headquarters of the Catholic Church. . . which makes a lot of sense.

This passageway surrounds the square. 

Since I had already purchased a rosary, bracelet, and two necklaces - and had them blessed in Assisi, I asked if I could have those blessed by the Vatican priests instead of having to buy additional items from their store.  They were not cool with this idea, but did sell me Holy Water blessed by archbishops in the Vatican instead.

Good enough.

We ended up at that over-priced Vatican gift shop for nearly an hour, while the St. Louis high school girls clammered around, snatching up $30 rosaries to get blessed.  Once everyone was done, we set off for the gates of Vatican City, where we were picked up by Andrea and the Brut Bus. 

While driving out of the Vatican and back into Rome, Rebecca informed us that our itinierary allotted us about an hour and a half of free time before dinner.  So, dropping us off with city maps in a somewhat-central part of the city, our tour group dispered with orders to rally back to the  rendevous at the Roman-esque Altare della Patria at 8:00pm.

Some ceremony taking place at the Altare della Patria

They have a grill going up there, in case you're wondering. . .

Check out the homeboys in the blue sashes - I'd wager they're somewhat important.

The Orlando Nine, maps in hand, ventured forth into the Eternal City.

The Tony Danza Store

An hour and a half in Rome wasn't much time, but there were a few things I definitely wanted to see before we had to leave - namely the Pantheon and the Trevvia Fountain.  Fortunately, they were only a few blocks from one another, and both within reasonable walking distance of King Victor Emmanuel II's monument, our rally point.

The Trevvia Fountain was closest, and along the way there we hit up several 'touristsy' shops and stalls, picking up random knick-knacks, magnets, and other such hoop-lah that would most likely collect dust back home.  I scored four resin miniatures (the Colosseum, the St. Peter's Square, the Arch of Constantine, and the Trevvia Fountain) and an SPQR fridge magnet - all for five euros, which was a steal (I had to pull out my old Ghanaian haggling strategies from my Peace Corps years, but it worked).

After some time in the shops, we came upon the Trevvia Fountain.

The Trevvia Fountain

Now, not to sound like an asshole or anything, but I honestly don't know what the big deal is.  Seriously.  I guess it must be more of a chick thing, who knows.  I haven't done my scholarly research on the thing, but I assume the statues in the gigantic fountain are of Neptune and his peeps.  That would make sense, right? 

Since its water and all?

The mini-amphitheater surrounding the fountain was packed with tourists, and all of them were jockeying for optimal position for the fabled 'tossing the coin,' which, from what I gather, indicates the inevitability of your return to Rome. 

More bothersome was the 'get a picture of me in front of this big-ass fountain' craze (though I can't really make fun of stupid crap like this tourists do, since I myself had my picture taken in front of it as well):

After admiring the elaborate sculpture for a few minutes, we fought our way out of the crowds and set off in the direction of the Pantheon.

A street-side ristorante - pretty standard shit over here in Italy. . .

The Piazza della Rotunda

The streets of Rome wind around thousand-year-old buildings, and are lit by streetlamps that have stood for centuries.  Like on other Italian cities, modern stores occupy the space in centuries-old buildings that were once granaries, offices, temples, etc.  Vendors and merchants - as well as small caffes and pizzerias - lined each alleyway.

The sun had disappeared, and the city was barely lit by its last light as we came upon the Pantheon.  It rose up before us as we passed around a tall (and long) pillared building that was impressive enough it its own right, but paled in comparison with the Pantheon.

We were all pretty startled - and awe-struck - to turn a corner and suddenly come face-to-face with one of the most important architectural feats in mankind's history.

Before entering the Temple-turned-church, we checked out the elaborate fountain that stands elevated in the center of the Piazza della Rotunda.  Afterwards, we made our way into the Pantheon among a torrent of camera-packing tourists.

While there were tons of tourists inside the domed colossus, you wouldn't know it (as crazy as that may sound).  I'm not sure if the place was merely less-packed than other famous sites, or rather I was too distracted by the gigantic, open-air dome that climbed over our heads.  Either way, it was a pleasant change from, say, the Trevvia Fountain or the Vatican Museum.

The Pantheon

Tourists swarm inside the ancient temple, dedicated by Marcus Agrippa during the reign of Caesar Augustus as a temple to honor ALL the gods of Ancient Rome (nothing quite like blanket-honoring)

This building has been in constant use since the first century AD.  In the 700s AD, it was converted into a Catholic church - the Church of St. Mary's and the Martyrs.

The main reason the Pantheon is so famous - besides surviving intact for two thousand years - is its gigantor dome.  It remains one of the largest in the world, even after two-thousand years.

The dome steals the show in the Pantheon, despite its impressive statues, frescoes, sculpture and tomb alcoves (Raphael is one of the many famous dead guys buried here).  The inside was quite similar, in fact, to the Duomo and the Basilicas of St. Peter and St. Francis, with the exception its dome.  The thing's huge.  At its zenith, directly in the center of the dome, is a large hole that opens up to the heavens, which allowed us a gorgeous view of the night sky.

Tourists!

Before leaving the Pantheon, I made my way over to the cathedral's Holy Water 'stand' (again, for lack of better term.)  I still had my assorted olive wood jewelry that I had picked up in Assisi, and seized the change to bless them in the Waters of the Pantheon.

I don't know how many pieces of jewelry exist in the world that have been blessed by the Holy Waters of St. Francis' Basilica and the Vatican AND the Pantheon, but it seriously can't be many.

Leaving the Pantheon. . .

Some random building, en route back to the monument of Victor Emmanuel II.

Back at the Altare della Patria

The piazza in front of the monument

Eventually we made it back to the Altare della Patria with about five minutes to spare.  We were the last members of our tour to reach the rally point at the steps of the monument (not surprisingly), so shortly after we arrived our EF group once again set off for Andrea and the bus.

Hanging out on the steps of the monument (not sure what the cathedral-ish building in the background is)

Back to the bus, once again. . .

Before setting off for our hotel, we stopped off at a restaurant for an awesome meal of alfredo noodles, baconish-pork (not sure how they did it, but I definitely ate the hell out of it), seasoned potato wedges, and fruit cocktails.

(Personally, I would've preferred whiskey or rum in my cocktails, but that just me.)

We had the majority of the second floor of the ristorante to ourselves, which was cool.  Everyone was exhausted, and sitting down for more than a few minutes was great.  Good thing, too - the service was terrible, and we had to sit around forever before we were even served.  It was past 9pm before we were done eating, and by then people were practically falling asleep in their chairs.

Alas, we had one more forced-march ahead of us - back to the rendezvous point to meet up with Andrea and the bus.  This time it was below ground in some parking garage-looking spot, where tour bus after tour bus came through and picked up their designated packs of tourists from all over the world. 

Ruins of one of Rome's great aqueducts. . .

It was excruciating to stand around, waiting around for our bus, after spending over twelve hours on our feet, trudging through Rome.  The presence of black market handbag vendors (all from Africa, coincidentally), working their way through the crowds, whoring out their wares, definitely didn't help our moods.

Finally, after standing around for God knows how long, Andrea showed up and our sorry lot boarded the bus.  I, like every other person on the bus (except Andrea, thank God), fell asleep immediately and didn't wake up until our bus came to a stop in front of our hotel.

Everyone stumbled upstairs to their rooms (the bar was sadly closed).  I took down my clothes from my makeshift clothesline (which were stiff, but dry and clean-smelling), and repacked my backpack for tomorrow's big venture:  the lost city of Pompeii.

After a brief Skype session with the wife and kids, I fell promptly asleep.

- Brian