Kirsty and I did a kamikaze run into Rome to see St. Peter's and the Colosseum. Too many people to do much else. The noise and volume of the traffic was enough to put me off kilter. We were lucky to find a small little place off the beaten path for lunch. Fresh made pizza by the slice, cappuccinos, and Neapolitan dessert for less than the price of lunch for one on the main drag. Sometimes it's best to eat where the locals eat. We weren't so lucky later on when walking back to the metro station: the gelato we had was the worst in Italy. But, we managed to get over it, and caught the metro back out to the outskirts of Rome where the car was parked.
St. Peter's Basilica was a bit overwhelming to me. I didn't take many pictures as I marveled at what I saw. I think the years of indoctrination from attending church and catechism (religious instruction for you heathens) brought forth feelings long since hidden as the years have gone by. As I watched the true believers, I envied their ability to believe so deeply in something without the need to question. Probably not hard for anyone to not to feel something while in this place, even if it is only wonder at the pageantry.
Getting ready for the beatification of Pope John Paul II.
That is a lot of chairs.
Saint Peter.
Swiss Guards. Now, I'm all for a man feeling confident in his identity to wear whatever he wants to wear. . . however, I think I would have gone a different way in designing the uniforms.
See comment above.
Kind of creepy.
I know, huh?
Stunning!
The Confessional is waiting for me.
This is an amazing sculpture. The folded marble looks like cloth.
Pax Vobiscum my friends!
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