Today was my last day in Roma. X was working once again, and I headed back to the Vatican to have a look at the museums and Capella Sistina. This time, thankfully, the modest gate in the wall was open, and behind it lay a vast, modern looking foyer, with information desks, computer monitors announcing which areas were open, multilingual ticket staff, and high tech security. After getting in, I set off around the museum following the Capella Sistina signs, as this was the one thing I had to make sure I saw before it was time to leave. Oddly, the signs don't take you to the Sistene Chapel, but all around the museum first, so you never really know when you're going to get there, which is a shame when you're on a time limit. I like to take my time in museums and really look at stuff that interests me, but I felt kind of rushed by the thought that I might miss the star exhibit.
Having said that, the Musei Vaticani are quite staggering. There are all manner of artefacts and works of art from every historical period. Of particular interest to me were the Egyptian exhibits, the hall of tapestries, and the maps. The tapestries were just so huge, often it was hard to stand far enough away to see them properly. The maps hearked back to a time when maps were more for decoration than a navigational aid.
I finally reached the Sistine Chapel. On the steps down to the entrance a tape played announcing in several languages that we were not to take photographs, use camcorders, or talk inside. So I was not entirely surprised to enter the room to find the loud babble of talking, camera flashes going off, and people with video cameras videoing everything. (What is it with them? They seem to record every waking moment. Do they ever watch any of it?) I soon became oblivious to all this, though, when I started to look around me. The walls and ceiling of the chapel really are a masterpiece. I was particularly taken with the perspective used. Standing in the centre of the chapel and looking directly upwards gives the best view of the ceiling: The figures seem to stand out at you, and you have to wonder whether the columns on which they a perched are real or painted. I tried to make sure I saw everything, but there really is so much detail that my eye was constantly distracted.
After the chapel I passed through what seemed an endless hall of paintings, sculptures and ornaments. The museum buildings are vast. I've never walked for ten minutes in a straight line before and still been in the same room. I'm not sure whether the buildings were made specifically to be museums, but I have no idea what else several floors of non-stop, high ceilinged rooms supported by massive marble columns and archways could be used for. Every archway was painted, as I passed through I had to keep reminding myself to look back. I wonder how much less appreciated the artwork facing the other way feels� The halls were filled with so many delicate, intricate trinkets, that my eyes began to yearn for a smooth, featureless surface to look at. Everything I saw was engraved, embossed, carved or textured. There were so many months of artists' work and so much detail that went ignored simply because it was too much to take in all at once.
It was a relief to step outside into the courtyard, where I could look normal things like the grass and the sky again. In the centre of Cortile della Pigna is a fifteen foot diameter bronze sphere. From a distance it appeared as if it was reflecting the buildings around, but as I approached I saw that it was in fact a sphere torn in the middle, with its strange, geometric insides revealed. I still don't know exactly what it is or who made it, but it caught my attention for some time as I rested.
I saw that there was a hall of chariots that I would have liked to have seen, but after some searching I decided that it must be closed today and then I said goodbye to Musei Vaticane. I still had some time to waste, so I strolled back to Piazza San Pietro where I hung out for a while before getting the Metro back to X's apartment. We had lunch, and then at four pm we left, she for work and I for the airport. We said our goodbyes at the tram stop, and with heavy heart I walked round the corner to the bus stop and set off for England. My time in Rome was over.
At Tiburtina train station I tried to purchase a ticket, but the machine was out of order. So without thinking about it I ambled to the counter and asked the man for, "uno bigletto per Fiumicino Aeroporto." This was in stark contrast to my fear of being talked to when I first arrived. I hadn't learnt very much Italian, but I came to realise that if you make the effort and try, people will be very helpful.
I reached check-in in plenty of time, spent a while browsing for books, picked up some duty free wine and some Italian chocolates to share with family and colleagues, then boarded the mostly empty plane. The plane was so empty that if it had crashed it would only have made the middle of a local paper somewhere in France next to a story about the local baker falling off his bicycle. Thankfully the plane did not crash, the flight was mostly uneventful. I drank free wine, reclined my seat without having to worry about the person behind, listened to music and gazed out of the window at the clouds, the mountains and the sunset. By the time we reached London it was dark, and as we descended below the cloud the view over the illuminated city was spectacular, I can highly recommend arriving in London at night to anyone.
And so I'd had a wonderful, exhausting holiday. Tomorrow was Thursday, and I had to go to work.
Words and pictures by Rob Fisher. Special thanks to X, you know who you are!