We didn’t spend a lot of time in the hotel room before heading out into the city. We
had 3:00 pm tickets for the Vatican Museums and the Sistine
Chapel and it was nearly 2:00 by the time we got our clothes changed. The Vatican has
strict dress codes and we planned for this.
The walk from our hotel was 2.8 km, according to Google.
Should take us about 45 minutes, we figured. Got directions from the hotel
clerk, walked out of the hotel and were lost within two blocks. Apparently the
streets (vias) change names every
other block, so the street you were just on isn’t called by that a block later,
but your map doesn’t necessarily tell you of the name change.
Add to that the fact that the Romans don’t know what a right
angle is. Not one single via in the
old part of the city comes into another at a right angle. Obtuse, acute…yeah,
they’ve got those covered! But right? Nah…why go 90 degrees when you could go
100?
 |
| The cobbles close up; the white line separates the pedestrians from the traffic. Yeah, right. |
And then there are the slate cobbles that make up the street
paving. Steven thinks they’re really old, I think they’re not. Just blocks of
unmortared stone (I *think* it’s slate, but
they’re pretty thick) that are about 6 inches square and are worn down
and uneven. And slippery. As in your shoes slide right off them like you’re
skating down the street, pushing off from every step.
Suffice it to say, dress black flats are NOT the shoes to
walk through Rome
in. I purposely didn’t wear my comfortable sneakers because of the Vatican ’s dress
protocols. Had the roads been concrete, I think I would’ve been okay, but that
slate…did I mention it was slippery? No blisters, but very, very sore feet.
Steven’s pedometer says he walked 10 miles today. I’m good with that. It
certainly felt like ten miles.
The Vatican
Museum
But all this, of course, is just stuff you “get through” to
“get to” the piece de resistance: the
Sistine Chapel. While Michelangelo wasn’t the only one to paint frescos on the
walls, his are the most famous. And the Vatican Museum
The Sistine Chapel is a holy space and security personnel are adamant: NO
CAMERAS. Period. No flash, no still cameras, no movie cameras, regardless of
size. Silence or quiet whispering is allowed, nothing full voice.
Once you are in, you are expected to just be. To rest in the
Holy Spirit, as it were. We had audio guides and only used them to listen to
the pieces o the Chapel. When done, since my feet hurt, I went over to the side
and waited for space to open up on the bench that runs the circumference of the
room. These are the same benches the Cardinals sit on when voting for a new
pope! I don’t think my girl-cooties contaminated the bench, though.
Once seated, however, the room takes on a different feel. I
sat back and just…looked. The colors, the themes…it’s a very peaceful place.
You wouldn’t think it, to look at The
Last Judgment on the entire back wall, but it is peaceful. Everyone gets
what’s owed him or her, yes, but ultimately, the ceiling and the wall tell the
story of man’s redemption. Of being saved by the coming of the Messiah.
We spent over half an hour there. I didn’t expect to be
moved by it…after all, we’ve all seen the pictures. Over and over again. How
many jokes have come out of Adam’s lazy finger just barely touching God’s?
And yet, to stand there, looking up at the original in the
original setting…it all makes sense. It’s beautiful. The colors, the shadings,
all the techniques amaze me, who has no talent with painting let alone fresco
work. But it’s more than the technique and it’s more than the subject matter.
It’s also the history, the stories of Michelangelo’s troubles in painting it that
have been handed down, embellished and handed down again. It’s all the history
of the Catholic church – both good and bad – rolled into one room.
And I stood it in today and yes, I cried, touched by the
enormity of all it represented.
Play safe,
Diana
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