Monday, we got up bright and early to be the first in line to get into the Vatican Museum, which contains the Sistine Chapel. We got in line at 9:00 (the place opens at 8:45) and we were inside within 15 minutes. For reference, if you go, don’t go on Saturday or Monday, and you won’t have a line at all.
I had the brilliant idea of rushing through the museum to beat all the tourists into the Sistine Chapel, so we could truly enjoy it in peace. The Vatican Museum is a long, winding road, and there’s only one path through it, so you have to go through it all in order to get to the Sistine Chapel. We flew past some gorgeous exhibits, and made it to the chapel within thirty minutes. Unfortunately, it was already packed, and even worse, when we tried to leave to go back into the museum, we were informed by the guards that it was one-way only. I was frustrated, but after all, we’d come to see the Sistine Chapel anyway, and we succeeded.
Monday afternoon, we became intimately familiar with the workings of the Roman bus system. It’s great: reliable, easy to follow, and cheap - around $.75 per ride. We took the bus to Piazza Navona, then to the local market at Piazza Vittorio Emmanuel II. Boy, did that market ever suck. Lots of food, but zero clothes. We ran around the area looking for shoes, but couldn’t find the perfect pair she was looking for.
Tuesday, we slept in until noon. (Hey, it’s a vacation.) Once we got up and around, we wandered the Spanish Steps district looking for a good pizzeria. We upgraded our palates to the Ristorante Alfredo, a high-tone joint with tons of famous people on the wall (Sly Stallone caught my eye first.) Their buttered fettuccini was unbelievable.
After that, we people-watched on the Spanish Steps for a couple of hours, and wandered down to the San Giovanni area. We toured the Chisea di San Giovanni in Laterno, the basilica with the heads of St. Peter and St. Paul above the altar. It was huge, feeling nearly as big as St. Peter’s Basilica.
We saw a garden outside and a man charging admission, and we talked to him. “The garden is…not important,” he said, waving it aside. “The ruins of the first basilica are important.” We proceeded to make fun of him for the next half hour - not to his face, of course - picking what was and was not important.
Across the street, we visited the Scala Santa, but didn’t pray our way up the 28 steps (as is the Catholic tradition). I was amazed by the old people doing it, who were obviously suffering with unpadded knees. One woman in her 60’s was doing it in her pantyhose. They were all praying in Latin - it was a mystical sight.
