It astounds me that I was in Vatican City on April 30th, and it is (unbelievably) August! Here's what the journal recalls from that blistering hot afternoon:
After we realized that the Vatican would be closed tomorrow (band holiday or some nonsense), we scrambled for sleeves and jeans and hit the ground running. Cleverly, we signed up for a tour, giving us a thorough knowledge of all things Vatican and bypassing the four or five hour line. We wouldn't have been able to have see it otherwise.
The museum was interesting thanks to our tiny, curly-headed tour guide that had an propensity to say Sistine Chapel every three and a half seconds. We learned of art techniques, artist's stories and whatever else seemed to interest her. I learned the most this day. The Sistine Chapel was a sardine can of awestruck tourists trying to sneak photos and talk, the guards shh-ed and even yelled at them to be silent. I couldn't get over The Last Judgement. It was massive, intricate and utterly mind blowing. I could have stood there all day.
|One of the many scenes of the museum that was fascinating.|
|The lovely view of Roma from a museum window.|
|A statue I should be able to name, but alas, I cant.|
|A majestic room of marbled statues.|
|One of the many ceiling shots I took, it seemed every room had a more spectacular ceiling than the room prior.|
|As we walked away from St. Peter's Basilica in search for food and rest.|
After five hours of standing and walking and learning and shoving and standing some more our bodies felt like they were going to collapse. Hence, like always, we found a Subway (a backpacking staple), and went to our hostel for a deserved nap.