The Vatican
The crowds are here again, of course. Must be at least a thousand waiting to get in. Takes ninety minutes, then we pass through airport like security, conveyor belts and plastic tubs for metal objects.
We’re given recorder gadgets when we pay admission, and a pair of ear buds. Don’t like wearing these, but when in Rome . . . .
We spend three hours wandering, amazed . . . hard to absorb so much, and we have seen so little. It’s beyond imagination. Statues everywhere with penises chopped off, and men dressed up like chess pieces.
People lining up for holy water in a courtyard near a huge brass thing. A present to the Pope from some famous sculptor. I’m sure it has some deep meaning, but my audio device went staticy.
I missed the explanation of it. See scaffolding (in green at left) part of the endless maintenance required.
Inside again we pass by tapestries as big as England, hanging flat
against the walls below long hallway ceilings painted with more detail
than a person can take in.
It starts to feel too much, a cake too sweet that gives a queasy feeling in the stomach, massive decoration, wealth and power – scary. We’re inside anther world, another country, once surrounded by great walls. Now sixteen Euros gets you in – to the museum.
Street Details
Rare Antique Pay Phones Everywhere.
Not sure if the bars are to keep people from falling out, or prevent them from climbing in.
Last Look
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