Rome to Florence

I woke up this morning to sounds of sweet love being made in the room next door. I took a shower, and got dressed and walked out into the hallway to check out of my room. The passionate exhibition next door continued and was far louder in the hallway. I waited there at the front desk quite awkwardly, every so often peeking around the corner trying to find the woman who ran the Bed and Breakfast so that I could check out and leave. It suddenly dawned on me that it was, in all likeliness, the front desk woman that I was listening to having loud unbridled sex with a man who's name was apparently Claudio. I stood there not quite sure what to do. Should I wait for them to finish, or just leave without checking out? I wanted to leave my bags here while I saw some more of the city before I caught my train to Florence, and I wanted to ask if that was ok, but this made the situation very difficult. I wasn't upset or anything. I was happy for her, she seemed like a nice girl and it seemed like she was having a good time in there with Claudio. Throughout their rampant Italian screaming, I caught a good majority of "Si"s and "Bene"s, so things must have been going well. It got to a point where you could hear things falling off the shelves, glass was breaking, there was a loud "Thud" on the wall. After some time I thought, "They've got to be close to done by now!" I checked the time, and figured I'd better just leave. I walked back into my room to grab my backpack, and the lovers finally reached the end of their session. I heard the door open, and someone walked out to the kitchen. Cautiously, I walked into the hallway again, trying to make a lot of noise with the door handle so they'd know I was coming. I peeked around the corner again, praying to God that whoever was in the kitchen had something on. "Hello?" I said shyly as turned the corner. There was a woman going through the cupboard in nothing but a bathrobe. Obviously not expecting company, she let out a tiny shriek and spun around, covering herself with her hands. I stood there awkwardly trying not to make eye contact. I was somewhat relieved however, to find that the woman standing here in front of me was not the one I'd thought. "Do you work here? Where's the woman who works this Bed and Breakfast?" I finally got out. "Claudio!" She yelled, laughing nervously. Claudio walked out, proudly zipped up his pants, and stopped in front of me. I repeated my question to Claudio, and he laughed and said she was gone at the moment, but would be back in a couple hours. I asked him if he knew if I could keep my stuff here while I walked around the city a bit, and he said he thought that'd be ok. I thanked him, and apologized to her, then shut my door and walked out.

I couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation at soon as I left the room. What an awkward situation to start the morning off with.

I walked down through the city, trying as fast as I could to make it straight to the Sistine Chapel. That was really the last thing I absolutely had to see before I left Rome, and I wasn't about to miss out on it for anything. I was going to take a taxi there, but I only had 6 euros in my pocket which is not enough for the ride there, and I didn't want to go pull out more money if I could get by without it. So I walked again, an hour over to Vatican City, and stood in line to get into the Sistine Chapel.

They Paired up the Sistine Chapel with the Vatican Museum for some reason, so the line for both of those, and thus twice as long. When I finally got into the main lobby of the Museum I found that I actually had to buy a ticket for the museum to see the Chapel, so I ended up having to pull out money anyway, but there was an ATM right there, so it wasn't a big deal. I bought my ticket and entered. I followed all the signs that said Cappella de Sistine, completely bypassing the other exhibits, because honestly, the Pope and the Vatican really don't interest me at all. I really have no desire to see the hat Pope John wore, or the ceptor John Paul carried. I wanted to see the famous ceiling Michaelangelo painted. Following all the signs led me into a courtyard where I got to see the outside of the chapel, but the door was blocked off, you had to enter through a door on a different building where they have you walk through a 2 hour labyrinth of hallways and open chambers that are all painted similarly to the Sistine Chapel, but not the Sistine Chapel.

The hallways were gorgeous though, I stopped to gaze at a couple of them. I can't even imagine how someone paints so much on a tiny space. Every little crevasse had absolute masterpieces painted on them, and the whole place was alive with color. I walked slowly with everyone else for the first couple thousand hallways, and then it was just getting ridiculous. The signs all said "Capella de Sistine" but with every new corner came new hallways, and a new room with a new promise of a place that would never seem to come. I started almost running through hallway after hallway, not even looking at the artwork on the walls anymore. After so long they all start to look the same. I wanted to see what I'd come all this way to see! What seemed like hours later, I finally at the very end, entered the Sistine Chapel. It was worth waiting for. I was stupefied by the majesty of it all. It's stunning, and inspiring to see in person. Every inch of that huge cathedral is hand painted masterpiece. It's hard to tell what's real and what's painted in some parts. There were some pillars I would have sworn were marble pillars, but were actually just painted on the walls. Some of the figures looked like they were jumping out at you as well. The whole ceiling looked like it was constantly moving, reliving forever the scenes it was depicting. In the center was the famous scene of God reaching out to Adam, just out of reach. Adam reaches out to God also but not fully outstretched, as if he wants to, but is not willing to go the whole way. I think that's an amazing statement Michaelangelo was making. God is trying so hard to reach out to us, and somehow we keep just missing it, afraid to make that extra effort, or leap of faith. We want to save ourselves, but we can't. It's like God has always been there offering everything he is to us, and we're holding out for a better offer. I felt inspired by Michaelangelo's paintings, and the whole air of the place. It's one of those times you can feel that you're in the presence of greatness. I made special note of the smell of the paint coming off the walls, and the sound of the resonance of people's voices. I knew I'd want to remember that forever. You weren't allowed to take pictures inside the Chapel, and even so I wouldn't have. Something like that is cheapened by photographs, if you want to experience it, you have to go there and see for yourself.

I answered an email while sitting on a bench and staring at the ceiling. I didn't want to leave, but eventually I had to. Outside, I found a little cafe and had a Pizza Margarita and ate it the real Italian way, with a fork and knife. Afterwards, I walked around the Basilica a bit and then caught a taxi to pick up mu backpack and then walked to the train station. I didn't have to wait in line or buy a ticket because I had my Eurail pass (Which has proven so helpful), and so I just looked at the soonest departure to Florence, and hopped on.

The train ride to Florence was a lot longer than I expected, but I slept for a lot of it, so it was fine. When I got there I read the directions Shandra had emailed me to find her house. It said to take the number 7 bus which I find near a Mcdonalds by the train station, but I couldn't see a Mcdonalds anywhere. I even walked down a ways and didn't see a Mcdonalds or even a bus stop. I decided maybe if I walked into town a little ways there's bound to be a bus stop for the number 7 bus somewhere close. However, if there was one, I certainly couldn't find it. I looked everywhere, and tried asking everyone I could find, but no one could help me. There were bus stops for the number 8 bus everywhere but not a single one for number 7. I eventually just gave up and decided it was worth it to spend some money on a taxi, so I tried to find one of those. It took me another half hour just to flag down a taxi, there doesn't seem to be as many of them here as in Rome. Finally though, I got one and 20 euros later, I was at Shandra and Sean's house. They live in a beautiful Tuscan style home in a gorgeous part of town outside the city. It's like the movie "Under the Tuscan Sun" out here, and I know my mom would just absolutely die to be living where I am these next couple days. The Galloways' are so wonderful and friendly. Shandra made me dinner, and prepared a guest room for me. I've been so blessed with the people I've gotten to stay with. They're all such kind, and loving people, and they live in like the best places in the world. Thank you to everyone who's helped me find places to stay, and especially to those who've allowed me to stay with them. This trip has been overflowing with generosity, and above and beyond with hospitality. Thank you!
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