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Rome

Ba-Rome-ater of History: The Vatican Museum

March 25, 2019 By Mark Chatham 6 Comments

Dress Code

The lady in the stained glass has also made appearances on taco shells, a tree stump and a toasted cheese sandwich auctioned for $28,000 on Ebay

The night before we were to visit the Vatican I discovered that there was a dress code. Shorts were verbotten and a number of sources indicated this code was strictly enforced. In an effort to travel light I’d only packed shorts. Joanne and I had struck out from the convent to find me a pair of “big boy” pants.

Fortunately, there was a UPIM department store a short distance away. Unfortunately, the ONLY pair of pants in the entire store that would fit were a pair of ugly white sweat pants. People who know me might enjoy the irony.

That being said, it was an ugly but functional solution. I mentioned these pants to Jo the other day and she burst out laughing. Apparently she didn’t have the heart to tell me they were ladies sweat pants at the time.

Especially galling is the fact that I observed the vast majority of visitors that day were wearing shorts.

Italian Traffic Lotto

We had breakfast at the convent and took an Uber to the Vatican. Am I going to mention Italian traffic yet again? Do Sicilians take the gun and leave the cannoli? You know, I’ve done cage dives with Great White sharks and in all candor, I truly believe that had diving with Great Whites WITHOUT the cage would be safer than driving in Roman traffic.

Heck, I think diving with a Great White inside the cage would only be marginally more dangerous than driving in Italian traffic. No matter, the car eventually stopped and I opened my eyes to discover we’d arrived at the Vatican safely.

 

 

No, Beyonce is not playing at the Vatican museum. This is a panoramic 180 view of .38% of the museum line up
Photo: David Lliff

Well… almost at the Vatican. The driver crosses the River Tiber and drops us at the Via della Conciliazione, the pedestrian thoroughfare leading to St. Peter’s. From there it’s a 500 meter hike to St. Peter’s Square. Then there’s another kilometer walking the perimeter of the Vatican’s wall just to reach the Vatican Museum lineup, still a half a kilometer from the museum entrance. At this point, there were options.

Vendor Bender

A “before” shot of Joanne, just entering Musee Vaticano. “Before” shots are always so happy, so full of hope, aren’t they?

During the Korean war the Chinese army was a huge presence. A popular joke among American servicemen was that a Chinese squad consisted of a mob and three hordes. Between the Uber and the lineup for the museum we were assaulted by a Chinese squad’s worth of vendors who offered a range of tour packages up to being carried about on a palanquin by a team of burly men. I speak with a few and haggle a “deal” for one of the skip the line tours.

The skip the line tours are interesting in that there’s no actual “tour.”  A wrangler rounds you all up and leads you past the lines waving his pass and blowing past security with the ease and speed of a courier delivering a kidney for papal transplant to the Vatican hospital. We arrive at the ticket booths where he makes a bulk purchase, hands out the tickets and disappears. Jo and I set out on our way.

The skip the line tour cost roughly 30€ each and lasted as long as a water slide ride at Six Flags. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn if you take the actual tour it’s  15€. That  being said, it saves about a kilometer’s worth of riding the line.

 

 

The Museum Proper

Love the casual pose! It’s as though the artist caught the subject a micro-second after a hurricane force gust of wind just rearranged this fellow’s toga. Fortunately for the viewer fig leaves were fashion forward in ancient Rome. 

Once inside the museum the sights and press of humanity can feel overwhelming, but the traffic flow is linear, one way and sensible. However, Joanne and I had a 7.5 km walk through 54 galleries with the last stop being the Sistine Chapel so we couldn’t really dally if we wanted to see St. Peter’s as well.

Suddenly, we were Olympic speed walkers. Arms pistoning, hips a rolling  with that stiff gait of someone trying not to break into a run. Whooo boy. Joanne HATES being rushed and she’s not shy in letting me know this. I get it.

It’s a shame not to be able to really linger. Really, it’s kind of obscene to  be blowing through rooms dedicated to work by Raphael and Caravaggio, seeing the work like you’d see billboards from the highway.

On the other hand, to not take in as much of the Vatican as we can would also be a shame. We just had to be selective in where we decided to linger in the limited time available.

At this point in the narrative, I’d like to invite the reader to take part on our walk through the Musee Vaticano.

 

 

 

A Photo Tour of the Vatican Museum

 

The Gallery of Maps. In my rich fantasy life, Marvel comics has been pursuing me to develop a Markzilla Avengers character. As part of the deal I’m contractually obligated to include a cameo of Stan Lee in my vacation photos.

 

As I understand it, one of the Pope’s liked to impress the staff with magic tricks. This was the “Bishop in the Box” at which he would saw a Bishop in half to the amusement of those below the rank of Bishop.

 

 

In a survey based entirely on this photo, 50% of participants found the painting across the hall from this one vastly more compelling

 

Kilometer 3 of the Vatican Museum contains fascinating historic items like the toe curlers for medieval shoes

 

Joanne couldn’t participate in the parable of the virgins and the lamps. Her foresight is exceeded only by her compassion. She’d have enough oil to top up the stingy virgins who didn’t bring enough, thereby changing the moral of the story to “I messed up! Is Joanne here to fix it? Excellent!”

 

The Vatican library has some of the most effective overdue fine collectors in the world. That kind of revenue buys you and kind of ceiling you want. The general public is not allowed access to the library. I only mention the latter because it felt like a good time to cite an actual fact

 

If I ever win the lottery, this is how I want the entrance to one of the 18 bathrooms in my mansion to look
One gallery contained nothing but oversize novelty globes. Natural forces apparently work much faster than the scientists have led us to believe. Newfoundland has suffered a LOT of erosion since medieval times
Kilometer 6! The philosopher Livius. I bought his last selfie stick
A scale model of Nordtrom’s from the Vatican Museum’s Petaluma California Gallery
Vatican Museum Exit. Don’t let the gilded doorknob hit you in the alb on the way out!!!



Previously on TTWTH: Rome-ing Underground: The Catacombs of San Sebastian

 

Filed Under: Europe, Italy, Rome, Travel (T.T.W.T.H.)

Rome-ing Underground. The Catacombs of San Sebastian

December 14, 2018 By Mark Chatham 1 Comment

 

 

 

Dr. Frauzel and a disembodied arm take a breather outside the Basilica of San Sebastiano on Via Appia

 

The Catacombs of San Sebastian

Were The Beatles Italian their 11th album cover would have had them crossing “Appia Road.”

After a hairy drive from Palatine Hill we eventually turn on to the Via Appia, or what some may remember from school as the Appian Way. It’s the most famous, historic road in the world. I’m assuming they’re still teaching this stuff in school but I could be wrong. It’s been quite a while since I attended school.

There are a number of catacombs in Rome. Dr. Flavia suggested the Catacombs of San Sebastian as this is where she brings her grad students.

The first thing I notice on arrival is there aren’t a lot of people here.There are no gaggles of vendors hawking selfie-sticks and Saint Sebastian bobble head dolls riddled with arrows.

I take that as empirical evidence we’re officially outside the cattle crush of the main tourist rodeo in central Rome. We book one of the tours and we’re assigned a guide named Francesco.

K, I don’t actually remember his name, but I didn’t want it to be “the guide guy.”  I did Google the most popular male name in Italy and the interweb decreed Francesco the winner with 28 per million babies in the 80’s… or something. I”m sure that it’s correct. It’s on the internet, right?

Anyway, prior to heading underground Francesco gives us a briefing on the rules. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take pictures inside the catacombs. This could be a pretty long article if I’ve got to replace every photo with 1,000 words so I’ll give the discount version.

There are 40 catacombs of varying lengths at various depths around the suburbs of Rome. Originally they were Christian burial grounds and at times served as sanctuaries for Christians who were being persecuted.

The Catacombs of San Sebastiano are maybe a half mile long and we never go deeper than 20 feet underground. They’re mostly dim passageways with the occasional chamber for relief. While I hate to disappoint those hoping for the macabre, but there are no cobwebbed skeletons anywhere to be seen.

A Shallow Descent Through History

Definitely not bunk beds. Pagan interment chamber (photo: Patrick Denker)

While the lighting is adequate, you’re always aware of your subterranean status. The temperature is cooler and there are shadowy, human body sized niches cut into the rock in the passageways that once stored remains that left me feeling vaguely unsettled. It’s kind of creepy, but hey. It’s a crypt. I see dead people.

This place had it’s start in the 1st century as a pozzolan mine and I know what you’re thinking but no. It isn’t a cheese mine which was was my first thought as well. But apparently pozzolan isn’t an exotic Italian cheese but calcified volcanic ash which the Romans used for making concrete.

At some point in the first century it evolved into a pagan burial ground for both slaves and freedmen.  The pagan burial chamber was naturally the last and deepest level we would visit.

At some point in the second century, this became a Christian burial ground. On occasion we would see the Christian symbol of the fish carved here and there in the surface of the walls. The simple artwork both pagan and Christian throughout the catacombs is surprisingly well preserved.

A Deep Ascent to the Present

Saint Sebastian as rendered by Bernini in the Basilica above

There were a number of chambers but one in particular stood out for me.

As mentioned in a previous post, the Colosseum provided a dark epiphany. Standing in a place where thousands of people were killed in the most brutal ways imaginable for no reason other than spectacle gave me a dark pause.

I was about to enter into a chamber which would offer a different type of epiphany.

There is a rather large Christian burial chamber which contains a bust of San Sebastian which is attributed to the sculptor Bernini. The short version of Sebastian’s third century story is he declared himself a Christian and upon chastising Emperor Diocaletian the despot ordered him tied to a tree and shot full of arrows.

Bernini’s last work was a bust of Christ: Salvatore Mundi

In fact, this did not kill him. He subsequently went back to the Emperor and admonished his cruelty towards Christians. The emperor had him beaten to death and thrown into a sewer, however his body was recovered and he was buried in this chamber in which we were standing.

An Unanticipated Reaction

Normally, I would read this and be left shaking my head at what seems to be an incredibly stupid act of senseless self-sacrifice. I’d be angry.

However, all I felt in that moment was a deeply serene warmth staring at that bust in this place where the first Christians sheltered from persecution. This is the chamber which held the bones of the apostles Peter and Paul.

I was overcome by the incredible amount of dedication and faith in the sacrifices made by these early Christians.

I’m not a religious man, however I do consider myself spiritual. Until recently I’ve always identified as an agnostic. Around a year and a half ago I become a Christian. I’ve told very few people because while I now consider myself a Christian, I am a “heterodox” Christian.

Basilica interior

All that means is I have my own beliefs about Christ independent of religious influence. It’s personal so I don’t speak about it as a matter of course. I don’t feel compelled to proselytize. There are many Christians who would not even consider me a Christian and that’s fine.

Cancer as Catalyst

There’s no doubt that cancer has certainly been a catalyst for change in my life in pretty much every sense including spiritual. I tend to think that the disease provokes a spiritual examination at some point for pretty much anyone who receives a cancer diagnosis. I’m pretty sure even hard core atheists may have their faith in their beliefs challenged after a cancer diagnosis.

I bring this up because it was an unexpected moment of clarity in this place and it affected me. It’s left me with a different perspective to consider and it’s one in which prior presumptions are challenged. I guess personal growth is a perpetual motion machine.

That peaceful feeling stayed with me as we exited the catacombs through the Basilica above. The  Basilica of San Sebastian contains beautiful artwork, including the last known work by the sculptor Bernini, The Salvator Mundi.

The tour takes about 40 minutes in total and costs 8 €.

That was a long stretch of a more sober type of reflection, so to lighten up before I leave…

One Last Vignette

146 words worth of explanation due left of this photo. It didn’t take 1,000 words after all.

Stefania drove us back to the convent. I can’t speak to any of the sights along the route as I had my eyes screwed shut and I was holding on to Joanne’s arm for dear life as we careened around the streets of Rome. I can speak to the “careening” part because closing your eyes doesn’t dampen your sense of motion.

When I was a kid we’d go to the exhibition and there was a ride there called the “Tilt-A-Whirl” and with my eyes closed… well, it certainly evoked that particular childhood memory.

The vintage ride itself was a teacup kind of affair that rotated in quick, violently sick kind of way. The cup itself orbited through bumpy revolutions on a  segmented, circular and uneven track. That’s what being in Roman traffic felt like. Although I don’t remember the carnival ride being so fraught with terror.

No matter!

The ladies dropped us off and we said our reluctant farewells. They had given us such a delightful day and we were richer in so many ways for having met them.

However, my stomach cares little for such schmaltzy sentiment and was clamoring for attention. We headed for a light supper at the Trattoria Pizzeria.

Ali Baba

Ali Baba makes his pitch to Jo to sell the bowls on bottom left.

We’d become good at waving off street vendors hawking tourist goods, but initially it was difficult. I’m a guy who likes to talk too much so it’s counter-intuitive to avoid eye contact and not engage.

That being said, we had six vendors approach us the first time we ate at this sidewalk restaurant so I adjusted to the new paradigm of snooty tourist quickly. The only other place I’ve seen street vendors match Roman aggression are in Manhattan and Hollywood.

On this particular evening, we encountered a fellow from Ghana named Ali Baba. Yes, that’s right. Ali Baba. I don’t really think it’s his real name, although if you’re hawking wares on the street you might want pick a name that isn’t immediately associated with “40 thieves.”

He had an infectious smile and his manner didn’t really feel aggressive. He was just full of joy. Ali Baba had a gift for remarkably engaging patter. He’d come from Ghana with six of his cousins who lived with him in an apartment where they hand made these collapsible wooden bowls he was selling.

Right. I didn’t buy the story, but we did buy a couple of his bowls. However, we weren’t really buying bowls. The charm of his entertaining company alone was worth the price of admission and we consider the bowls were a bonus gift. He certainly did weave quite the tale.

The meal arrived and Ali Baba departed. As we ate we decided that rather than heading to Venice the next morning, we would stay in Rome and see the Vatican. We’d have to come back to Italy some day if we were to take in Venice.

Last time on TTWTH: P-Rome-nade on Palatine Hill

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: Europe, Rome, Travel (T.T.W.T.H.)

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