I’m finally getting around to writing about some of my travel experiences in more vivid detail after being inspired by Warwick’s message about Psalm 96 today.
Excerpt from my travel journal, dated August 4th, 2016, Rome, Italy:
I woke up early. The Americans had already left for the Amalfi Coast – they wouldn’t be back until late, probably until the next morning. The other girl was finally in – I hadn’t met her yet. The others were still asleep.
I had pre-booked a tour with City Wonders at the Vatican Museum and St. Peter’s Basilica. I left after a quick vending machine breakfast, then promptly got lost on the Metro (I took the wrong line!). Good thing I had left super early. I finally made it to Ottaviano station from Termini, with time to spare.
The Vatican Museum
The queue around the fortress was ridiculously long. It wound all around the block. I was glad that I had invested in a skip-the-line tour.
I met the tour group (all Americans) with our tour guide, Giovanna. She was very knowledgeable and spoke five languages. She gave us radios with earpieces so she could talk normally, not shouting just so we could hear her. With all the groups, that would be chaotic!
Giovanna had explained many of the important pieces of art as we walked through the echoing hallways. I can still clearly remember the feeling of hushed awe, the rapid pounding of my heartbeat as I beheld some of the great Renaissance works of Raphael himself, and the mind-boggling ceiling fresco of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.
A frustrated artist, I had to hold back tears as I carefully and slowly studied the masterful techniques that I had previously only seen through books; through the lifeless, flat photocopies used as reference for drawing practice in design school.
St. Peter’s Basilica
I’ve been in some amazing buildings before – I live in Dubai, after all! – and I’ve been wowed by the Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi. But nothing could have prepared me for the grandeur of St. Peter’s.
There is a sense of your own smallness when you walk up to it…you feel tiny and insignificant. The place screams power and wealth and exquisite skill.
Walking in, I was reminded of Warwick’s sermon about Solomon’s temple a couple of weeks back. Its beauty and splendour were legendary, and I wonder how the Basilica would have measured up to it.
Michelangelo’s infamous Pieta was immediately to the right side of the entrance. Giovanna didn’t want to spend too much time there, but I went up to it for a couple of minutes before she motioned for me to rejoin the group. I was heartbroken at not being able to look at it longer.
She took us to tombs of former popes, including a couple of mummified remains.
The Grand Dome was spectacular. As you lift your gaze upward, you can’t help but marvel at the sheer magnificence of the structure. I had seen it in countless photos, studied it in Humanities and Art History classes but pictures could not capture the breathtaking glory of the dome.
And yet, it made me think of how much more glorious God is. I am awed by the works of human hands that could never even hope to compare to the majesty of God’s works.
I thought back to the Swiss Alps I had gazed on during the flight. The uneven, jagged edges and wildness were nothing like the order and perfection of this structure…but they were so much more beautiful. I realized that’s just how God works. He Himself is perfect and yet works so beautifully in imperfection – creating in us a story far more perfect because of our flaws.
After our tour was over, Giovanna told us we were free to go back inside if we wished. I handed her my radio, thanked her, and dashed back inside to take a better look at Michelangelo’s sculpture. Twenty minutes passed before I realized I had just been staring and staring.
The work of the master’s hand is spellbinding. What skill had to be involved in rendering fabric from cold, hard stone! I could almost feel the folds cascading down Mary’s body as she wept and held the body of her son.
I remember taking a long walk around the cavernous building after finally tearing myself away from the Pieta that day. When I’d had enough, I went out into the square and took off my cardigan, enjoying the cool breeze and the hot summer sun beating down on my shoulders.
I was overcome by a sense of gratitude. That was when it actually sank in that I was really here…it stopped feeling surreal somehow.
I walked to Castel Sant’Angelo just to look at the angel on top (I took the Dan Brown tour. LOL). It was quite hot by that time. I got some gelato at a street stall (the most disappointing one during my entire stay in Italy) and bought a souvenir magnet for Janice.
I walked back to the Metro, but had to stop and sit on some ancient Roman steps for a few minutes. I had blisters on my feet. Note to self – wear good shoes, not sandals! I spent the rest of the day relaxing and had a late lunch of pizza and pasta at a bar near my hostel, served by a very friendly waiter with whom I practiced my broken and limited Italian phrases.
My roommates were up and about by the time I got back after lunch. I finally met the other girl in our room, an Argentinian named Victoria. She was at the end of her own solo trip around Europe before going back to Buenos Aires.
They all went out for dinner and drinks, but I stayed in to cave and sleep and to take care of my introvert self, as well as my excruciating blisters. Again, forget fashion. WEAR THE RIGHT SHOES!
Excerpt from my travel journal, dated August 5th, 2016, Rome, Italy:
Trevi Fountain and Pantheon
I set out again, took the Metro to Barberini station and bravely walked on my aching, bandaged feet, periodically checking Google Maps to find my way to the Trevi fountain.
Workmen were cleaning it when I arrived, but I still tried to take some photos. The sun was already high in the sky so the light was a bit harsh. There was no water in the fountain yet so I decided to head over to the Pantheon in the meantime.
After a short walk, I turned a corner and there it was.
It had seemed almost comical and irreverent to see the huge, ancient Roman temple surrounded by honking cars and swarms of noisy tourists armed with their selfie sticks.
There was a man playing the cello just outside, and I couldn’t help getting emotional as it rose up before me.
I went in and took some pictures for a while. All the signs were in Italian and I wished I could understand everything without having to use Google Translate. The real-time camera translation tool is extremely useful though!
The oculus was amazing – a feat of pure engineering genius in the middle of the gigantic dome.
When I got out, I sat on the ground to watch and listen to the passionate cellist. When he was done, everyone clapped, and I dropped a Euro note into his open cello case. I gave him a teary-eyed smile as we both said at the same time – “Grazie.”
I walked back to Trevi. The sky had gone overcast by the time I got there so there was a beautiful, softer light. The water was flowing by then too. I managed to take some better photos.
Spanish Steps – sort of
I ducked into some side streets, a little off the beaten path, on the way to the Spanish Steps. I passed by La Paloma, an artisanal gelato place, and ordered a coffee gelato this time. It was heavenly – thick and creamy, full of flavour – very unlike the disappointing one I had yesterday.
I got to the steps, but was dismayed to find that they were closed for maintenance! I was heartbroken for a second, but decided to make the most of the situation by enjoying my gelato next to the fountain in front of the steps. After I crunched down the last of the wafer cone, I filled my empty water bottle from the fountain. Aahhh, clean, cool, and refreshing! And most importantly, free.
Excerpt from my travel journal, dated August 6th, 2016, Rome, Italy:
I sadly said goodbye to Kru, Toby, and John, who left for Croatia. I skipped breakfast and had an early lunch of beef cannelloni at White Caffe Bistro. Their hazelnut gelato was superb. I walked around the area for a bit since I was early for my Palatine Hill tour.
Palatine Hill, Roman Forum and Colosseum tour
Our tour leader’s name was Francesca. She was very friendly and talkative. As she guided us up the hill and through the ruins, I could almost picture Nero’s palace in its heyday, could almost hear the pounding hooves of the horses pulling chariots around the track.
Finally – the Colosseum! We used the gladiators’ entrance, which felt so surreal. You could almost hear the crowds cheering as the gladiators came in for the games.
So much ancient history, mixed up in more recent renovations and recycled buildings; massive columns and steps that were once adorned with valuable marble and surrounded by glittering courts have now been irreverently stripped of their former glory – a crumbling and silent ruin that tells stories of a once-great empire.
This was not a backwards society; this was an educated, technologically advanced, powerful people. And yet, their power is no more. It made me marvel all the more about the unchanging, unfailing greatness of God.
“He makes nations great, and destroys them; He enlarges nations, and disperses them.”
Job 12:23
Lord, you have been our dwelling place
throughout all generations.
Before the mountains were born
or you brought forth the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
You turn men back to dust,
saying, “Return to dust, O sons of men.”
For a thousand years in your sight
are like a day that has just gone by,
or like a watch in the night.
Psalm 90:1-4
It was a lot to think about that day. I thought about these things for the remainder of my trip as I continued to see glimpses of bygone eras in every place I visited.
