HAPPY FOURTH OF JULYYYYY is what we all woke up saying the morning we went to the Vatican. Sporting our best American flag scarves, we were ready to conquer the day. When in Rome...do as the Romans do...right?
We headed off to The Vatican State, which just in case you were unaware, is literally it's own state, has it's own currency, laws, and is the only place that is allowed lock it's gates at night.
We began our tour through the courtyard, as Hilary (Our tour guide) explained the ancient ruling of the Pope's and how they were once wealthy people who threw lavish parties and had mistresses. Everything from the entrance to the Vatican to the courtyards were beautiful.
There was a big earth that was chained off, and we all got the message that you weren't allowed to cross. Our tour guide, as awesome as she was, asked for 3 volunteers, we climbed inside the chains and pushed the world with our bare hands ;)
As we sat in our easy, breezy, beautiful, genie pants, we listened to the story behind the Sistine Chapel, which was painted by Michelangelo.
Spending 4 years upside down, without ever bathing or changing his clothing, he painted the top half of the chapel when that is first seen upon entering. The beauty of this painting is that is shows the 7 phases of when God created the earth, and the famous portrait of God creating Adam and giving him life is portrayed by capturing the moment just before their fingers touched.
Back in the day, artists were not allowed to sign their name on their paintings, because the painting belonged to the men who paid the artists to do their work -- so it was common for the artists to paint a self-portrait of themselves imbedded in their work as a symbol of creation and ownership -- which was impossible to find on google, so I apologize. The amazing thing about the first part of the Sistine Chapel is that it was the first painting done during the Renaissance period.
About 25 years after painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and many years after the death of Pope Julius II, Michelangelo was asked to paint the wall behind the altar with a fresco of the Last Judgment by Pope Clement VII.
Michelangelo was not the same man he was when he painted the ceiling. His mood is more pessimistic, he was more devout and clearly concerned about the fate of his own soul. The times had changed as well. The Protestant Reformation was well under way, and the Church was beginning to turn its back on the Humanism of the High Renaissance. The Church responded to the attack by Luther by going on the offensive, bringing a powerful, energized Catholicism to the people. The subject of the Last Judgment, where we see the damned tortured in hell, needs to be seen against these historical developments. Michelangelo also included Saint Bartholomew, who was martyred by being skinned alive. He holds the knife in one hand, and in his other he holds his skin. When we look closely at the skin of St. Bartholomew we see that Michelangelo painted his self-portrait there which appears distorted in the sagging skin.
Amazing isn't it? The Last Judgement was also the last painting of the Renaissance period. What I find to be absolutely incredible, is the portrayal of beginning to end in both life and the greatest period of art. Michelangelo was brilliant.
We began our tour through the courtyard, as Hilary (Our tour guide) explained the ancient ruling of the Pope's and how they were once wealthy people who threw lavish parties and had mistresses. Everything from the entrance to the Vatican to the courtyards were beautiful.
There was a big earth that was chained off, and we all got the message that you weren't allowed to cross. Our tour guide, as awesome as she was, asked for 3 volunteers, we climbed inside the chains and pushed the world with our bare hands ;)
As we sat in our easy, breezy, beautiful, genie pants, we listened to the story behind the Sistine Chapel, which was painted by Michelangelo.
Spending 4 years upside down, without ever bathing or changing his clothing, he painted the top half of the chapel when that is first seen upon entering. The beauty of this painting is that is shows the 7 phases of when God created the earth, and the famous portrait of God creating Adam and giving him life is portrayed by capturing the moment just before their fingers touched.
Back in the day, artists were not allowed to sign their name on their paintings, because the painting belonged to the men who paid the artists to do their work -- so it was common for the artists to paint a self-portrait of themselves imbedded in their work as a symbol of creation and ownership -- which was impossible to find on google, so I apologize. The amazing thing about the first part of the Sistine Chapel is that it was the first painting done during the Renaissance period.
About 25 years after painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and many years after the death of Pope Julius II, Michelangelo was asked to paint the wall behind the altar with a fresco of the Last Judgment by Pope Clement VII.
Michelangelo was not the same man he was when he painted the ceiling. His mood is more pessimistic, he was more devout and clearly concerned about the fate of his own soul. The times had changed as well. The Protestant Reformation was well under way, and the Church was beginning to turn its back on the Humanism of the High Renaissance. The Church responded to the attack by Luther by going on the offensive, bringing a powerful, energized Catholicism to the people. The subject of the Last Judgment, where we see the damned tortured in hell, needs to be seen against these historical developments. Michelangelo also included Saint Bartholomew, who was martyred by being skinned alive. He holds the knife in one hand, and in his other he holds his skin. When we look closely at the skin of St. Bartholomew we see that Michelangelo painted his self-portrait there which appears distorted in the sagging skin.
Amazing isn't it? The Last Judgement was also the last painting of the Renaissance period. What I find to be absolutely incredible, is the portrayal of beginning to end in both life and the greatest period of art. Michelangelo was brilliant.
Sitting in the Sistine Chapel was something I was not exactly prepared for. I grew up Catholic, and after having two years of confusion on whether or not I wanted to stay Catholic, at age 17 I knew Catholicism is what I believed in. I took a seat next to an older couple and was bewildered by the sight of it all. Emotions overcame me and tears began coming out of my eyes. The only thing I could do was pray a mystery. When I finished, I met my group in the center of the chapel, where we headed to off to St. Peter's Basilica.
The center of the Basilica is roped off on days that there is not a mass given by the Pope. The center circles each have names of churches and the cities that they are in -- the measure the size of the church in comparison to this Basilica.
That big huge thing in the middle you see, is built on top of St. Peter's tomb. St. Peter was told by Christ, " I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I shall build my church." The original church was torn down and this basilica was later built. The tomb of St. Peter remained exactly where the first church was built, and this altar is directly on top of it. On this altar, only the Pope is allowed to give a Holy Mass. Priests may give smaller masses on smaller altars on both sides of the Basilica.
As I kept walking around, I saw the second sculpture that Michelangelo made of Christ and The Virgin Mary (one of three that I mentioned in an earlier blog), I saw the tomb of Pope John Paul the Second who is to become a saint in December of this year, an engraved stone of all the Popes thus far, and I touched the foot of St. Peter's Statue which is meant to represent good luck.
After having thirty minutes to walk around, our group split up yet again. Those who were ready to move on and leave, and those who wanted to climb the stairway to heaven (I say that because it's about 70 flights of stairs) to overlook the entire Vatican State. So, the fab 5 minus one split off to make the climb. As the staircase got smaller and the walls caved in closer, the airflow was minimal and we were practically dying among tons of other people trying to make it to the top. But EVENTUALLY, we made it. And this is what we saw....
The center of the Basilica is roped off on days that there is not a mass given by the Pope. The center circles each have names of churches and the cities that they are in -- the measure the size of the church in comparison to this Basilica.
That big huge thing in the middle you see, is built on top of St. Peter's tomb. St. Peter was told by Christ, " I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I shall build my church." The original church was torn down and this basilica was later built. The tomb of St. Peter remained exactly where the first church was built, and this altar is directly on top of it. On this altar, only the Pope is allowed to give a Holy Mass. Priests may give smaller masses on smaller altars on both sides of the Basilica.
As I kept walking around, I saw the second sculpture that Michelangelo made of Christ and The Virgin Mary (one of three that I mentioned in an earlier blog), I saw the tomb of Pope John Paul the Second who is to become a saint in December of this year, an engraved stone of all the Popes thus far, and I touched the foot of St. Peter's Statue which is meant to represent good luck.
After having thirty minutes to walk around, our group split up yet again. Those who were ready to move on and leave, and those who wanted to climb the stairway to heaven (I say that because it's about 70 flights of stairs) to overlook the entire Vatican State. So, the fab 5 minus one split off to make the climb. As the staircase got smaller and the walls caved in closer, the airflow was minimal and we were practically dying among tons of other people trying to make it to the top. But EVENTUALLY, we made it. And this is what we saw....
I can't even find the right words to describe it. It's like trying to describe God's majesty -- no man can understand it but a man is not worthy to understand.
We made it back downstairs, well I should really say, we RACED back downstairs as I prayed that I wouldn't fall and break a bone or two in the process. We crossed the street and made it to the shop where you can buy a gift, have it blessed by the Pope, and delivered to your hotel room that same evening. We bought our gifts and headed back to the hotel. On the way, we stopped to eat lunch. Before our food arrived, I was still feeling overwhelmed by having been in the presence of such a holy place and was overcome by my emotions again. I called my parents (mind you, there was still a 7 hour time difference), and was thankful when they answered. I cried as I told them how much I loved and missed them and how blessed we were in every aspect of our lives. Yes, I cried in the middle of Rome. It's kind of the beauty of being a female-- you can cry in public and not be judged haha. Hearing their voices and having them send their love made my day a lot better, and I was instantly cured.
We ate our delicious dose of pizza and pasta for lunch and began walking again. It was still the Fourth of July, so we had to take one small detour. We headed to the American Embassy. And of course, we were dressed to impress. We saw some fellow Americans who had also stopped along the way for a celebratory picture and drink.
We made it back to our hotel, ordered a pizza (from a pizzeria that was literally RIGHT NEXT DOOR....) and took a nap.
Our plans for the night were kind of in the air. I DID NOT want to go out. At all. Again, I just wanted to eat some gelato, walk around, and go to sleep. Not to mention, my allergies were acting up, so I literally looked like I was dying. Haha
Connor's dad had made it to Rome that day and they met up for dinner before he met up with us. After yet another, 20 minutes of groveling... I was convinced to go out. Again, key words "When in Rome".
Remember when I said Connor met up with his dad? Yeah? Okay. So we're all walking around trying to figure out where to go, and Connor goes "Let's just take a taxi! My dad and I just took a 10 euro taxi." Out of complete disbelief, I looked at him and said, " In what planet? I've never heard of a 10 euro taxi." After arguing, AGAIN, he convinced all of us that he would pay for it and we were going to the Gay District. There were 6 of us and taxis only hold 4 passengers. SO. We climbed into two taxis, took a twenty minute taxi ride (which was DEFF not 10 euros) and made it to the middle of nowhere: the Gay District.
The place was literary dead. So of course, who gets sent to ask the questions? Me. I asked a man what was going on, and he informed me that the Gay District was closed and would not be opening until the following day at 5pm. So....great. Out in the middle of nowhere. Lost, yet again.
I found these two pretty cute guys and pulled out my map to ask them where we were. After flirting my way through getting directions for a club nearby, we headed off. Walked into the club and it was also, extremely lame. We sat at a table, where we aimlessly looked at a map trying to figure out what to do, until YOURS TRULY (miracle number 2) figured our where the nearest metro was. After clearly explaining that we needed to get on the Blue line, ride it for 6 stops, get out, and get on the orange line...we boarded the metro. Lucky for us, IT WAS GOING THE WRONG WAY.
We were the ONLY people on the metro...and when it stopped, we realized we were stopped where the metros are parked for the night. We stepped outside to you know, check out our surroundings, and what did we see? Tunnels and tracks. Perfect. Just what we needed. About 10 minutes later, the guy driving the metro came walking through and was about ready to go home...until he saw us. (This is where our key phrase kicks in...damn Americans strike again). He asked us where we needed to go, and said he would take us in 15 minutes. So...we waited.The metro finally started moving and people began boarding it again. We reached the point where we needed to crossover and guess what metro line we got on.....the RED line. Didn't I say we needed the orange? Yeah...so what happened next? We got off yet again, at another random stop, and began walking. Lost. In the middle of who knows where. We weren't even on the map.
We made it back downstairs, well I should really say, we RACED back downstairs as I prayed that I wouldn't fall and break a bone or two in the process. We crossed the street and made it to the shop where you can buy a gift, have it blessed by the Pope, and delivered to your hotel room that same evening. We bought our gifts and headed back to the hotel. On the way, we stopped to eat lunch. Before our food arrived, I was still feeling overwhelmed by having been in the presence of such a holy place and was overcome by my emotions again. I called my parents (mind you, there was still a 7 hour time difference), and was thankful when they answered. I cried as I told them how much I loved and missed them and how blessed we were in every aspect of our lives. Yes, I cried in the middle of Rome. It's kind of the beauty of being a female-- you can cry in public and not be judged haha. Hearing their voices and having them send their love made my day a lot better, and I was instantly cured.
We ate our delicious dose of pizza and pasta for lunch and began walking again. It was still the Fourth of July, so we had to take one small detour. We headed to the American Embassy. And of course, we were dressed to impress. We saw some fellow Americans who had also stopped along the way for a celebratory picture and drink.
We made it back to our hotel, ordered a pizza (from a pizzeria that was literally RIGHT NEXT DOOR....) and took a nap.
Our plans for the night were kind of in the air. I DID NOT want to go out. At all. Again, I just wanted to eat some gelato, walk around, and go to sleep. Not to mention, my allergies were acting up, so I literally looked like I was dying. Haha
Connor's dad had made it to Rome that day and they met up for dinner before he met up with us. After yet another, 20 minutes of groveling... I was convinced to go out. Again, key words "When in Rome".
Remember when I said Connor met up with his dad? Yeah? Okay. So we're all walking around trying to figure out where to go, and Connor goes "Let's just take a taxi! My dad and I just took a 10 euro taxi." Out of complete disbelief, I looked at him and said, " In what planet? I've never heard of a 10 euro taxi." After arguing, AGAIN, he convinced all of us that he would pay for it and we were going to the Gay District. There were 6 of us and taxis only hold 4 passengers. SO. We climbed into two taxis, took a twenty minute taxi ride (which was DEFF not 10 euros) and made it to the middle of nowhere: the Gay District.
The place was literary dead. So of course, who gets sent to ask the questions? Me. I asked a man what was going on, and he informed me that the Gay District was closed and would not be opening until the following day at 5pm. So....great. Out in the middle of nowhere. Lost, yet again.
I found these two pretty cute guys and pulled out my map to ask them where we were. After flirting my way through getting directions for a club nearby, we headed off. Walked into the club and it was also, extremely lame. We sat at a table, where we aimlessly looked at a map trying to figure out what to do, until YOURS TRULY (miracle number 2) figured our where the nearest metro was. After clearly explaining that we needed to get on the Blue line, ride it for 6 stops, get out, and get on the orange line...we boarded the metro. Lucky for us, IT WAS GOING THE WRONG WAY.
We were the ONLY people on the metro...and when it stopped, we realized we were stopped where the metros are parked for the night. We stepped outside to you know, check out our surroundings, and what did we see? Tunnels and tracks. Perfect. Just what we needed. About 10 minutes later, the guy driving the metro came walking through and was about ready to go home...until he saw us. (This is where our key phrase kicks in...damn Americans strike again). He asked us where we needed to go, and said he would take us in 15 minutes. So...we waited.The metro finally started moving and people began boarding it again. We reached the point where we needed to crossover and guess what metro line we got on.....the RED line. Didn't I say we needed the orange? Yeah...so what happened next? We got off yet again, at another random stop, and began walking. Lost. In the middle of who knows where. We weren't even on the map.
Frustrated, angry, and tired, we kept walking as we all went on about how just wanted to be in our beds (HA, see. People should listen to me more often when I say we shouldn't go out). The clock kept ticking and at about midnight, somebody asked me to pull my map out. I did so, willingly, and you know what? Everyone KEPT WALKING. So I was like okay, no. I'm not the only one who is going to sit here and try to figure out where we are. I put it away, and caught up. The same thing happened a second and EVEN a third time, until I couldn't take it anymore. With my friend Candice standing next to me, I took my map, ripped it to shreds, and threw it in the air. Yes, it really happened.
We kept walking and someone goes, "Hey Ana, can I see your map?" I laughed along with Candice and said, HA, that's funny you ask because it is in SHREDS on the last block.
So there's that, we were mapless, half laughing, half wanting to kill each other. Until our dear friend Christian, pulls out his phone and says, "Hey, I have a GPS..." Wait, I'm sorry. Where was your phone 45 minutes ago when we needed it? Hahaha. We took a few turns and were finally on the right track to the hotel. We made it in at 1:30 in the morning after a series of unfortunate events and went to bed.
We were not ready to face the next day....our last day in Roma.
XOXO,
Ana
We kept walking and someone goes, "Hey Ana, can I see your map?" I laughed along with Candice and said, HA, that's funny you ask because it is in SHREDS on the last block.
So there's that, we were mapless, half laughing, half wanting to kill each other. Until our dear friend Christian, pulls out his phone and says, "Hey, I have a GPS..." Wait, I'm sorry. Where was your phone 45 minutes ago when we needed it? Hahaha. We took a few turns and were finally on the right track to the hotel. We made it in at 1:30 in the morning after a series of unfortunate events and went to bed.
We were not ready to face the next day....our last day in Roma.
XOXO,
Ana