Breakfast was earlier than I would have liked, but luckily it was only a short ways down the hall. The morning went by without much of a hitch, though to my dismay there were no hard-boiled eggs. The whole breakfast seemed to consist of pastries. We climbed aboard the very nice train to Rome in no time. I was able to read for a considerable amount of time, thankfully. I like reading. It seemed like no time at all before we were pulling into the train station Roma Termini (named after the baths of Diocletian, but may be an Italian pun for all we know—it is the end of the line).
Our first stop in Rome was the Coliseum, thus called because of the colossus that stood nearby while the games were still going on. Its official name is different and no one really uses it, but it was originally named after the man who financed the building project. There is also the fact that, according to historians, no Christians actually died in that arena (though there were other arenas back then). I know, I was disappointed too. We had an hour to take pictures and guess at the bloody games that were once held in the area. It did rain for a bit, but thankfully two of my small band of sightseers had umbrellas and thus were able to get the backpacks and cameras out of the rain. A small party of two went upstairs and took better pictures, even managing to intervene in a hilarious video recording of the British school group we found (“I am not entertained!”).
Our next point of interest was the Roman forum, complete with victory arches of Roman generals and temples to every kind of deity. We also peeked over a wall at the floor where Julius Caesar might have been stabbed and craned our eyes toward the prison where Peter and Paul were held. I didn’t actually see the Mamertine (if that is how you spell it), but I was assured it was over there. We didn’t have time to see it, really. We had ticket reservations at the Vatican Museum, and we can’t keep THEM waiting and, besides, we hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
The only really exciting thing about lunch was how rude this one lady was to us about us sitting in the wrong place. But, to be honest, she was ruder than most Americans I know, and that’s saying something. We didn’t know! Plus we offered to do whatever was necessary to sit down. It was awful.
The great thing about reserved tickets is that you don’t have to stand in the line that circles almost the entirety of Vatican City. I’ve stood in that line before: it’s no fun. Thankfully, we just had to remind them of our reservations and we cut ahead of all of those people. Haha, suckers! We put our bags through the x-ray scanners and walked through the metal detectors; basically, the only difference between this security and airport security was that we got to keep our shoes on. The museum itself holds masterpieces in tapestries, paintings, and sculptures. The highlight would be the Sistine Chapel, which definitely cannot be taken in during one walk-through. The sheer amount of frescoes is dizzying. Another highlight for me is seeing the Vatican parking lot and the one-truck fire department. Whoohoo!
Our leaders then led us to some decadent gelato and a small piazza where we could sit down. It’s amazing how much you miss regular benches and places to sit down until you go to an area where sitting down and resting your feet doesn’t seem to be important. It’s the little things, you know. Plus that gelato was amazing. I found out that Stracciatella is the most awesome flavor of g elat o ever, and honestly I will always get a scoop of it anywhere I have gelato. Then it was back to the metro and the train station, where we were on our own for supper. Mom and I got sandwiches at this cart in the middle of the entryway. While we were waiting for our food this guy comes and begs for spare change for a sandwich. I tried to tell Mom not to give him anything—I don’t trust beggars with money—but she gave in, so I helped. We watched him even as we walked away and joined the group again, and surprise surprise he bought himself a beer. Mom felt used, I felt bad for knowing all along not to trust him and not being more forceful about it.
We then caught the train back to Florence, whereupon I buried myself in a book again until we got back. It was an early night for me after the late night I had had before.
