But before I get into it, I want to want to take you through my morning, which can only be described as a series of unfortunate events. First, I wake up too early. Who knew I'd be effected by a non-existent time change between Tuscany and Rome? Then, being grumpy from pre-dawn awakening, I get irritated with my sister, who seems to have the uncanny ability of pointing out my every flaw before 9am. Getting fed up with her, I 'accidentally' throw my toothpaste violently into my toiletries bag, whereupon she exclaims "CHILL!" And secondly, while taking a shower, I proceed to wash my hair with hand lotion instead of shampoo. I desperately needed coffee.
We met with the parents in the lobby and powerwalk through Rome in time for my dad to weasle us onto the same tourbus as Charlie, Victoria, and the rest of the clowns. We then had 30 minutes to sit idly outside an espresso shop, where I ate a stale croissant, and drank an 'Italian Coffee', which I quickly learned was simply a shot of espresso in a dainty cup, perfectly molded to the manicured hands of Italian men. We finished our espresso, and left for the bus. I said 'hello' to Cam, and then dozed off in the chair while the bus pulled away from the curb, and the tour guide was imparting her 'extremely important instructions.'
We stopped first at the Trevi Fountain, a masterpiece carved into the side of a building somewhere around mid-town. Designed by Salvi, the statues depict Neptune, god of the sea, Health, and Bounty - I assumed these last two were gods of Health and Bounty, but I can't be sure. Before leaving we were instructed to toss a coin over our left shoulder in hopes of one day returning to Rome, and spending more money on these expensive tours. I realize this is a tradition every naive traveler partakes in because upon meeting others on our trip across Europe, we would tell them we'd visited Trevi Fountain, and all of them would brighten in the eyes and ask, "Did you do the coin thing?" We'd say yes, and with a gleam of enlightened surety and a slight smile they'd say, "that means you'll be back."
Next stop was the tomb of the first king of Italy, also known as the Pantheon. Not to be confused with the Parthenon, the Pantheon is in Rome not Greece, and is still a functional building if you don't count the gaping hole in the middle of the ceiling. Originally cast as a Pagan church, they left the hole for their sacrifices to travel up to heaven. But when the Pope went all popeish on Rome's ass, he converted it into a Catholic church. He did this mainly by draping velvet sheets over the various Pagan gods, which still line the foot of the dome. Nothing like a quick fix for Catholicism, am I right?
After the Pantheon, we hit up Navona Square, and its famous Four Rivers Statue. The statue, designed by Bernini, consisted of four women who represented the Danube, Congo, Ganges, and the Rio Del Plato - supposedly the 'biggest rivers at the time.' If Bernini had chosen to represent the four grossest rivers: 1. The Willamette would've definitely made an appearance, and 2. We probably wouldn't be talking about it because it'd be hideous.
Next stop would be the Vatican. To get there though we had to cross the Rome river, which cuts Rome into the Vatican state and Rome. We stopped briefly at a souvenir shop so everyone could go to the bathroom, and buy worthless crap that symbolize peace, but really just symbolize monetary gain, as the clerk takes your $20 bill.
Finally we arrived at St. Peter's Square. For me, being a secular non-believer of religion, I couldn't help but be impressed by the immensity of the Vatican. My awe was quickly doused by the fact that it was hot, like really hot. And not just hot, but muggy too. The shade was just as hot as the sun, and I could feel my boxers dampening from the sweat rolling off my back. Upon making it to the front doors, I praised god for his decision to put air conditioners in the church. How merciful he can be sometimes.
Cam and I went to see the Pieta, the first commissioned work from a 19 year-old Michelangelo. Then we strolled by the various artwork and sculptures, taking pictures of the most beautiful. I learned from our low-talking tour guide that there are in fact three types of baptism. Sacrement is done with water, the most popular, obviously. Desire of Faith is done with a priest, and requires no aqueous solution, unless you are 14 and a boy. And the final is Martyr, or baptism by blood.
When the tour finished, I was in need of my babptism at the Hard Rock Cafe, but instead of water or blood, I wanted milkshake and cheeseburger. I was not alone, and so me and my group of merry tourists gorged ourselves on American cuisine, and headed back to the hotel rooms to wait out our food comas.
Apparently the hotel we were staying at was booked for that night. So my parent moved to a hotel down the street, and did my laundry, which turned the water in the sink brown. Before we knew it, we had worked off our heavy American lunch and it was time for dinner.
We met the group in Campe de Fiore, for our final night together. Margie, Gunner, Julie, and Tom were leaving in the morning, so we had our last supper during the fading light of a Roman sunset, while we listened to street performers playing music in the square. Now that's what I call a religious experience.
No comments:
Post a Comment