Roman Holiday, Part II (Monday, October 17, 2011)

A slightly later morning again today, after which we got on the train to Rome once again. This time the train felt a bit longer, because it made many more stops and was so crowded that we were just packed in the aisles. We were all relieved to get off of the train. At least someone did give up their seat so that Louise could sit down with the baby.

Today we pushed into Roman Catholic territory. We got to the Vatican Museum just in time to be hungry for lunch, so we looked for some pizza before going in. As we walked down the busy street, we were approached by about 20 different people on the sidewalk who asked if we were interested in an English tour. Andrew answered once with “No habla ingles” which made me laugh, because while he meant “I don’t speak English,” he said “You don’t speak English” or “He doesn’t speak English.” Apparently he doesn’t speak Spanish either. We knew that the museum was the home of the Sistene Chapel, and for that reason were excited to go in, but we had no idea what else was there. Well, my goodness.

It is also home to about 5 million sculptures, another million or so tapestries, and 50 million paintings. Plus a matching 50 million tourists. Every time we would enter a room, we would look around and think “Wow, look at it all.” Then after pushing our way to a couple of signs that explained things, we would be overwhelmed by the ubiquitous tour groups, all following someone with a flower on a stick or a half opened umbrella or a sad-looking stuffed animal on a stick. All with matching headsets and receivers, as well as color coordinated lanyards that made it clear which group they belonged to. We would wind our way through them, thinking surely the next room will be quieter or less crowded, and certainly we must almost be to the Sistene Chapel by now. But it is enormous! And lovely. And exhausting.

We finally did make it to the Sistene Chapel, and it’s a beautiful thing. Everything you hoped it would be. Plus a few guards standing around commanding silence, shushing everyone, trying to bring some semblance of solemnity, which is impossible. Not to mention all the people snapping flash photos in front of the “no flash” signs! Still and all, it’s an experience.

Afterward we went to St. Peter’s Basilica, which is an astonishingly large cathedral. Inside you can find the marks on the floor where the National Cathedral in Washington D.C. or London’s St. Paul’s Cathedral or the Notre Dame fit inside with plenty of room to spare. Beyond the horde of tourists, we heard some bells, and it turned out some sort of service was going on. It was so far forward, in such a small area at the front of the cathedral, that it hardly made a mark on the enormous crowd in the rest of the cathedral. Carsten is pretty sure that when he visited some 25 years ago, there were benches all the way to the back so anyone could come in, sit, and spend some time in quiet contemplation. Now, as our host Ivano puts it, the church has turned into a business. Ivano has some feelings on this issue.



This painting may be the answer to my writing career:
I need to dress more casually, use a quill, and keep a lion and skull handy for adding
just the right fear/pressure to stay motivated.



We followed the same pattern home—train, groceries, and dinner at Carsten and Louise’s house. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to travel with a baby. Emil is very laid back, and sleeps in his stroller for hours as we tour, but he also needs to be fed fairly frequently yet, and Louise handles it with a relaxed nature that makes it no big deal. He truly is such a cute baby. We’re having fun watching our kids enjoy him.