After an hour of sleep I give up and decide to go to the Spanish Steps bright and early before the crowds arrive. No sane person would be up at this hour traipsing around the city and upon leaving the hotel, I confirm I am the only insane person awake. It’s actually really peaceful walking the streets at this hour. There’s no traffic, no people, the air is crisp and the sun is just starting to rise on another spectacular day.
I arrive at the Spanish Steps and wait for the sun to get higher on the horizon so I can shoot some photos. There’s one other photographer who has braved the early hour awaiting more light. I’m able to snap a couple of photos without anyone in them and it makes it all worth it. During the day it’s so crowded you can’t even see the steps.
I briskly walk back to the hotel as I need to be at the Vatican by 7:45am for the tour I’ve booked of the Sistine Chapel. In my mind I was thinking that there would be very few people willing to brave the early hour for a tour, but was I wrong. This is the “quiet” time to go?? There’s tourists everywhere, all impatient to rush through the museum and get to the chapel. I can’t even imagine what it would be like at a later hour. I brave the throngs of people and follow the guide through the Vatican Museum which houses one of the largest and most expensive art collections in the world. The Catholic Church, to put it crassly, is clearly loaded. There’s a treasure trove of priceless sculptures, paintings, frescos, and murals. Michelangelo’s art influence is throughout the Vatican. In one of his frescos, the eyes of Jesus appear to follow you no matter where you move to. Freaks me out. I prefer to keep a low profile and having the big guy’s eyes drilling into the back of my head gives me an unsettled feeling.
The exterior of the Sistine Chapel is fairly nondescript and I wouldn’t have known it was there unless pointed out to me. The chimney is only installed when a new Pope needs to be chosen and the throngs avidly watch to see if the smoke is white or black. I kinda like the Pope that’s at the helm right now. He seems like a people’s Pope and appears to care about what’s happening in the world. He’s also more in tune with the ever-changing modern world than the previous ones.
I enter the Chapel and it’s a massive room with a ceiling 4-5 stories high. Every inch of the walls and ceiling are covered in murals. This is Michelangelo’s masterpiece. The lighting is dim and the crowd inside is hushed out of respect…everyone, except for one bloody guy. He’s yacking at full volume about how his flight was delayed from Texas and his luggage didn’t make it. No one cares dude. We’re all trying to enjoy this most holy of places and I’ve got your annoying Southern drawl ringing in my ears. I beat a hasty retreat and exit the Chapel back into the museum area.
I make my way to St Peter’s Square, foolishly thinking I’ll take a look inside the Basilica. That is not happening in any way, shape or form. The line-up to enter the Basilica is a mile long (I’m not even exaggerating) and there’s no way I’m standing in it all day. I realize that before leaving home I forgot to book a tour of the Basilica and Dome. I can’t come to Rome and not visit St Peter’s Basilica! I quickly book a tour online for Saturday and then stroll around the square. I see the balcony from where the Pope gives his mass sermons and looking behind me I can envision a mass of Catholic followers crammed into the square hanging on to his every word. It must hold tens of thousands of people.
Around the colonnade I see several homeless people have set up small cardboard “tents”. The police don’t seem to be too fussed about them and then I overhear a guide explaining that the Pope allows them to shelter here.
The lack of sleep is catching up with me and I stumble back to the hotel to try and nap. I manage to doze for a couple of hours and almost feel human. I decide an afternoon in the large piazza nearby is a good idea and cop a spot on the grass underneath a tall palm tree. The piazza is filled with dog owners playing catch with their pets, children playing soccer, teenagers laying in the sun and men in suits eating their lunch.
My brain tells me to go out for dinner and take some evening photos, but my body insists that it’s exhausted and needs an early night. My body wins the battle.
