In the last update, I left off with me sitting outside St. Peter's in Vatican City. It was three o'clock in the afternoon on Sunday, April 2, 2000. One of the staff members, Cheryl (who's worked on four TK&A rides while her husband works cargo on the Great Lakes), and I had gotten thoroughly lost after taking a couple buses into and through Rome. Fortunately, we ran into another Odyssey rider who had a map of the bus/subway system in Rome. He told us to take the "Metro" subway to the Vatican. The subway stop nearest the Vatican left us (we later learned) still six blocks away, but with a sign pointing to the Vatican Museum. We started walking hoping we were, at last, headed in the right direction. When the street vendors (not quite of the "Come git yer plastic Popes" variety, yet annoying) started to increase, we knew we couldn't be far off. When we entered the plaza and saw St. Peter's all the feelings of getting lost in a foreign city, of wondering if I made an error signing up for a year long bicycle ride, of missing everybody back home, all the doubts, and even some of the shoulder pain; washed away with the overwhelming realization of what I had accomplished getting to this place of my dreams.
In spite of sagging due to injuries and illness, I had pedaled 7269 kms and climbed about 150,000 ft. I had endured the loneliness of the road (I'm yet to find anyone whose speed I can match for more than a few miles so I usually ride alone, and, in the afternoon, often seeing no other riders for 30-50km). I had found ways to do laundry often enough to not offend myself or others. I had suffered the too frequent lack of hot showers. I had eaten countless meals where I didn't have a clue what was on the plate but enjoyed it none-the-less. I had ridden in COLD, heat, rain, sun, up hills, over mountains 10,000ft high, down curvy descents, through wealth and poverty, cross borders, to airports with police escorts, along breathtaking coastal climbs, through farm and desert, through cities and wastelands, and passed exotic animals and pollution to reach Rome.
I had told Cheryl I/we needed to sit down to rest and take pictures of St. Peter's, but I really needed to take a few minutes to soak in the reality that I had finally gotten to Rome.
Then, without knowing what lay ahead, we joined the line to enter St. Peter's. I was so taken aback by the enormity and grandeur of the interior that I had to look to my right a second time before I realized that behind the glass protection was Michelangelo's Pieta. The sheen of his Christ and the delicate details of body and clothing were astonishing. Ever since reading Irving Stone's "The Agony and the Ectasy" half my life ago, I wanted to see the art of Michelangelo. This is why I came to Rome. I almost cried.
After recovering, I toured the basilica with Cheryl. Everywhere we looked there was beauty. People touched the feet of enormous statues. Overhead, minidomes were gorgeous. Michelangelo's main dome was awesome. It is unbelievable how huge the interior really is.
The next day, our goal was to see the Sistine Chapel and the Colesseum. We knew, not a fast way but at least a sure way, to get to from our campground to the Vatican. Once there, we knew to keep asking directions from Vatican volunteers until we got to the line for the Museum. It took only 30 minutes and 18,000 lire ($9.00) to get inside. They now have a labyrinth to get people through the museum to the Sistine Chapel. Through room after art-filled room, along hallway after art-filled hallway, up stairs, down stairs we hiked. One hallway was so long and gorgeous that a person could spend an entire day admiring just it. Not knowing how long it was to the Sistine Chapel, we paused only occasionally, following the Sistine Chapel arrows. Finally, after an art filled 45 minutes, we entered this unassuming room crammed with people.
Most people stood, straining their necks ... and balance to look up. We were lucky and found great seats after only five minutes. For 40 minutes we sat looking at the ceiling painted by a man who said he wasn't a painter but a sculptor. We also could look directly back at the wall above the entrance upon which the same man painted "The Last Judgement" some 40 years later. Both paintings had been restored to such a colorful brightness that it was hard to believe they're 400 years old.
Michelangelo's use of shading made the ceiling art look three-dimensional. One figure seems to have his feet dangling from the ceiling. Thanks to the restoration the colors were extremely rich, much richer than ANY reproduction. There was, to me, one "flaw." In the most famous panel, wherein God is reaching out to Adam to give the gift of life, Adam is shaded to indicate that the light source is coming from behind him not from God.
The Colesseum (Flavian Amphitheatre as it's properly called) was all that I expected. We wandered around outside, ignoring the opportunity to take photos standing next to some Tommy Trojan in his period costume and three day beard. We got to the front of the ticket line at 2:58pm. There was an English tour at 3:00pm. Our timing was perfect.
This most famous of Rome's ancient structures was built under the orders of the Emperor Vespasian beginning in A.D. 72. Previous amphitheatres were constructed of wood. The Flavian Amphitheatre (named for the Emperor's family) was constructed as part of the "bead and circuses" program to appease the people of Rome. How could they not support an emperor who kept them safe, fed and entertained? Of course, the legends about flooding the stage for sea battles and Christians being "feed" to the lions are FALSE. The free entertainment consisted of gladiators fighting each other plus various animals (the more exotic the better) fighting (if you call a match between a bear and a giraffe a fight).
When built, it could hold 70,000 people. In the middle ages it was used as a quarry for building homes in Rome. The shell that was left has been strengthened, will be cleaned of the pollution from passing vehicles, but otherwise not restored any further.
I didn't get to see other tourist magnets like the Trivoli Fountain - I couldn't ride my bike and didn't have the time. I still haven't ridden since falling in Naples. My shoulder is very s l o w l y getting better. The bruise was deep and the hematoma is moving down my arm causing the pain to radiate. It will go way "eventually" but my lack of motion keeps me from riding ... and sagging sucks. My thumb kept me from riding most of Greece. My shoulder is keeping me from riding all of northern Italy. I've only fallen while bicycling and injured myself three times in my life - two have been in Europe on this trip. That must mean that the rest of the trip will be safer, warmer than 40's and 50's, and I'll start losing the weight I've gained while not riding.
Happy Trails,
Bruce