Vatican City

by

Kelly Kent

Since some of my family members (I won't mention any names, but she did recently have a baby) complain about the length of my travel articles, I will write a separate article for each day I spent in Europe.

Now retired, my mom was able to travel with Jenny and me during the months of September and October. Knowing that the fall was the ideal time for traveling to Italy, we were thrilled that our schedules were flexible enough to permit a trip. Marcie, our good and highly active friend, was interested in traveling to Europe. After much anxiety about leaving her husband and children for 18 days, each day Marcie grew more excited for our girls only trip. Marcie bore the separation from them incredibly well. We grew so close during the trip that halfway through, I began calling my own mom—mommy #1 whilst Jenny and Marcie were designated mommies #2 and #3.

Marcie drove us to LAX for an afternoon flight to Paris, France. What was supposed to be a 10-hour flight, turned into a 12-hour flight because of weather complications and crowded runways. I have never seen so many male flight attendants on one flight than I did that day on Air Tahiti-Nui. Speaking both French and English, the attendants were very helpful and accommodating. Each seat had their own television that showed exactly where we were, the time, and the temperature. You could also watch your choice of five different movies and play card games. Jenny sat by a lady who refused to turn off her light during the night portion of the flight while she played noisy pinball. Bing—bing-bing-bing—bing! Marcie was the only one who slept thanks to Tylenol P.M.

The international terminal was chaotic and confusing at LAX, but compared to the airport in Paris it was heaven. My mom and I were taken on a bus with the other travelers who could not walk up stairs through a different portion of the airport. Apparently, they thought Marcie and Jenny weighed too much for the bus lift! When we eventually did meet, we ignored directions from some uninformed Parisians. After going through customs, we saw some provocative advertisements on our way to the Air Italia terminal. We ate our daily dose of chocolate before we were personally escorted to our delayed flight to Rome. All of the Kent girls fell asleep on the hour and a half flight to Italy's capital. I had to be practically slapped in order to wake up!

We purchased many accessible Europe books that discussed accessibility in just about every country, except Italy. In order to fulfil my wish to travel to Italy, Jenny found a tour company that exclusively set up accessible trips to Italy. We were spoiled with a personal driver of a lift-equipped van and tour guide each day. Each of our hotel rooms were spacious enough to maneuver a wheelchair through them and had accessible bathrooms. Many of our meals were arranged ahead of time so I was happily forced into trying new food!

We were greeted by Giuseppe, a courier, who helped us take our luggage to the van we would travel in for the next few days. Mossimo drove us to the Hotel Lancelot while Giuseppe tried to talk about Rome to four sleep-deprived women. I remember he said something about how it is illegal to leave your car parked while the air-conditioning ran. He must have been really interesting since that’s all I remember. The Hotel Lancelot did not look like a typical hotel from the outside. You were granted entrance into the courtyard of the hotel by buzzing the outside gate. The lobby had two entrances: one with stairs and one with a portable ramp. Our rooms were in a separate area from the main hotel. Our two ground floor rooms consisted of two twin beds, a television, a closet, a desk, and an accessible bathroom. The rooms were very spacious!

Told to stay awake until nine o’clock in order to quickly adjust to the time difference, we kept a distance from our beds walking to the nearby Colosseum. The uneven cobblestones surrounding the Colosseum were but a mere inconvenience because of my new wheelchair straps. I recently purchased a new seat back with lateral supports and a chest strap; it makes me feel safe, secure, and is more comfortable. We ate dinner (???) outside the Ristorante Antica, as tiny cars drove by. Marcie and I ate not very creamy fettuccine alfredo with peas. Jenny ate spaghetti while my mom dinned on lasagne. We were pretty adventurous that night!

Back at the hotel, Jenny plugged our hair straightener into the electrical unit incorrectly and blew a fuse. Our straightener would not work after that point, thus my hair was braided every day we stayed in Rome.

Jenny and I woke on the hour from about 3 AM until 6 AM, afraid we had over slept for our pick up. With a few minutes to spare before our 7:45 pick up, we grabbed muffins, croissants, fruit, and juices from the buffet. Mossimo drove us to Vatican City where we met our tour guide, Carla. Vatican City, comprising 108.6 acres, is its own state and has a separate zip code from Rome. Carla was a very animated, enthusiastic Italian who spoke very good English. With her English degree and years of giving tours, she had acquired a large vocabulary. Carla helped us bypass the long line that wrapped around the wall of Vatican City as well as many of the lines inside. I was granted free admittance because they either A. sensed my holiness or B. saw my wheelchair. I'm going with A.!

From approximately 8:30 to 10 o'clock, we only saw a fraction of all the 10,000 rooms, 12,000 windows, and 997 staircases found in the city-state. I was unimpressed with the bronze pine cone and the bronze peacocks found in the courtyard. I really didn't care that they dated back to the 1st and 2nd century A.D., but wondered where the Sistine Chapel was located. Also located in Courtyard of the Pine Cone, was a gigantic ball that reflects the courtyard. The ball was also unimpressive, and it was only created in 1990. I don't know how I could have been impressed, though, when the reflective ball is only the four meters in diameter, and I’ve seen “The Bean” in Chicago that is three stories high.

Due to crowds, Carla took us on a different route through the Vatican Museum. A modern elevator was used to access the Museum instead of the two-flight spiral staircase built in 1932. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Well, my eyes didn’t see any beauty in the many armless, headless, and legless statutes. I guess you aren’t supposed to find beauty in them, but rather marvel at how old they are. Many of these statues were of naked men whose anatomically-correct parts were either broken or covered with acorns. At one point in time, one of the Popes, it seems, wanted to draw viewers’ attention away from the male anatomy with acorns. Ironically, I think the acorns draw more attention to their nudity.

As we walked through the Gallery of Tapestries, each of us were stirred by Raphael’s Resurrection. As a resurrected Christ comes forth from the sepulchre, his eyes follow you as you walk by the large tapestry. It was a strong reminder that Christ is mindful of our lives.

The ceilings of the many hallways we walked through were elaborately decorated with frescos. It was sometimes difficult to focus on the ornate murals because of the crowds. Elderly tour groups wore ear pieces that transmitted things said by their tour guide holding an umbrella. On occasion, the tour guides told their group to make way for the wheelchair on their right/left. People politely followed their tour guide’s instruction. Cabinets were used to store books in the library of one the beautiful hallways. Forty different maps, reproduced from cartoons by the astronomer Ignazio Danti in 1583, can be viewed in the Gallery of Maps. We only had to view a couple to understand the amount of effort put into the making of maps of European countries. It was interesting to see a map of the world, and not see North America. The ceiling of this gallery was elaborately decorated in stucco and fresco. Right now you’re (Krissy) probably thinking, “Who cares about the Gallery of Maps! I want to read about the Sistine Chapel!”

I rode on a lift down six or ten steps while Jenny and Marcie joked about the lift going haywire just like it does in Gremlins. Michelangelo was originally commissioned by Pope Julius II to paint figures of the 12 apostles on the corbels of the lunettes in the chapel, but Michelangelo had a much grander idea. With the pope’s authorization, Michelangelo began work on May 10,1508 (date on contract) in the Sistine Chapel. Biblical scenes on the walls and ceilings depict The Creation through The Last Judgment. Directly in the center of the 20.7 meters high ceiling, God gives Adam life. On the furthest wall from the entrance, a powerful reminder of judgment day is seen. Carla told us some interesting things about the last judgment painting: the pope was angry with Michelangelo's portrayal of Mary, the mother of Christ. Mary appears to be worried about the judgment. Michelangelo’s face is painted in the flesh of the martyrdom that St. Bartholomew shows to the judge. Michelangelo’s severest critic, Biagio da Cesena, is portrayed in Hell encircled by a snake. Cesena had this to say about the artwork in the Sistine Chapel, “not a work for the chapel of a pope, but for a tavern.”

Plastic chairs used for when the pope speaks every Wednesday, were still outside in St. Peter's Square that Thursday. St. Peter's Square is huge! The massive basilica, 4400 square meters, was built over the course of a century. St. Peter, the apostle who was given the authority to build the kingdom of God after Christ’s death, is presumably (Carla said he possibly never came to Rome) entombed in the basilica. A gilt bronze baldachin, designed by Bernini in 1633, stands over St. Peter's tomb. The spiral columns only reach 29 meters high, but were visually supposed to spiral toward heaven. Behind the baldachin, we saw Bernini’s Cathedrala of St. Peter in Glory. I wasn't sure why they made such a big fuss about this piece of art in my art history class, and after seeing it I am still confused at why they found the gaudy, ugly memorial anything special. The beautiful cupola’s, above the baldachin, diameter is the same the pantheon’s cupola, 42.56 meters. An onlooker tried to listen to Carla as she described the baldachin and cupola, but failed when outspoken Carla told her to move on.

The statues, monuments, tile work, and decorations made the inside of the vast basilica appear smaller than it actually was. The foot of the bronze statue of St. Peter, designed by either Arnolfo di Cambio or an unknown Syrian artist in the 4th century, has been touched by so many (sign of allegiance to the Catholic Church) that St. Peter no longer wears two sandals. We didn't know whether to laugh when Carla made a snippy comment regarding this practice. Michelangelo sculpted Pieta when he was only 21 years old. He sculpted a manly, grief-stricken Mary with her crucified son out of a single block of marble. It took two years, 1498-1500, to complete the slick appearing statue. The detail Michelangelo captured in Pieta is incredible: the folds of clothing, the muscles in Christ’s body, Mary's facial expression, his signature, and the word Michelangelo used to describe himself, “Florentine”, in Mary’s sash. Pieta was placed behind glass because a crazy man, intent on destroying the statue, took a hammer to it a few years before our visit.

There are a few tombs in the basilica, but one of them stands out in my memory: the ornate tomb of Alexander VII. Bernini has the figures of Charity and Truth in the foreground of the monument and Justice and Prudence stand at the base. Without paying close attention, you could miss the skeleton’s hand reaching out from beneath the tomb, reminding viewers that death is ever present and inevitable. Kinda creepy, but very cool!

There was a very old bronze door, executed by Filarete and originally for the earlier basilica. People were taking turns to photograph this door; I’m not certain why and am not sure why Jenny took a picture of it. Perhaps, people take pictures of it because it is really old or because it depicts the martyrdom of Peter and Paul in two of its six panels. Jenny probably took a picture of it because I insisted she photograph everything, and I mean everything.

**Thanks to family, I have been informed about this "Holy Door." Under the direction of the pope, the door is opened during a Jubilee year. Those who walk through it receive a pardon of their sins.**

After saying goodbye to Carla, Mossimo drove us to, an outside cafe, Ristorante Al Bozzi, that he recommended. Everyone except Jenny ate their pizza. We asked the waitress who spoke some English if the pizzas were sized individually. She responded ‘yes,’ so we were very surprised when she brought us each pizzas that covered saucer-size plates. The cracker-like crust was dripping with runny in tomato sauce. I was only brave enough to try the Margarita option the entire trip, which was only topped with cheese. The only way to eat these pizzas was to cut them into pieces (very difficult because of the crust) and fold the pieces together. Thanks to my disposable apron, I was able to make a huge mess and walk away spot-free! Jenny had some delicious fresh mozzarella with tomatoes. She also had suppli, which is a breaded rice ball. While waiting for our check-- for what seemed hours, we saw the restaurant manager escort a begging homeless woman, dressed like a gypsy, out of the outdoor section where we ate. My mom eventually made the trip inside the restaurant to ask for the bill.

We stopped walking for a few minutes by the Victor Emmanuel Monument. We were able to view this monument, insultingly nicknamed “the wedding cake” and “the typewriter,” interruption-free until a street vendor began putting bracelets on me and saying ‘sister likes.’ I kept telling him no, but he kept putting other bracelets on me. However, “Sister” eventually found one that she did like.

Mossimo told us (or so we thought) it would only take us 20 minutes to walk back to our hotel. Meanwhile, three hours later, we were back to our hotel. Along our return to the hotel, we crossed a graffiti-stained bridge over the Tiber River, snapped a few photographs only tourists would take, savoured our first taste of gelato while The Fray and Madonna played in the background of the ice cream shop, kept our heads down through the rough part of Rome, walked by a high school with hundreds of scooters parked in front, and bought fruit from a fruit stand that too pretty to be real. You may say we were lost and frustrated when I was carried down a flight of stairs where the street reached a dead end.

Later that evening, we shopped for dinner snacks at the grocery store. We bought chocolate, cheese, crackers, Light-Cola (probably warm), and some more chocolate. After sending e-mails home, we went to bed knowing of the early pickup tomorrow.

To be continued: The next day we were on the move….. to the Amalfi Coast!

©K. Kent Last Updated: January 7, 2008 Email Kelly Kent