All Aboard!

Our second day in Rome saw us joined by the first passenger on the Pork Chop Express, the lovely Francesca Robinson, on holiday from her studies in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Francesca ready for action

She had informed us the night before that she had not gone to the Vatican, and we promptly invited her to come with us on our merry adventure. So we started out from the hostel once more, getting out free breakfast (which was getting easier to accomplish), and touring the sights we had missed the previous day.

Fittingly, we began at Santa Maria Maggiore, one of Rome's many, many churches. Francesca showed off her sweet SLR digital camera, which took pictures that the Pork Chop Express was envious of. In short order, we methodically passed the Trevi Fountain (again), the Colonna Traiana (which must translate to 'big honkin' stone column'), and the Spanish steps with Trinita del Monti church at the top. Yes, churches and fountains once again ruled the day.

Eventually, we made it to the Vatican, seat of Pope Benedict and whole bunch of other holy guys and gals. St. Peter's Basilica, the main church with the cuppola overlooking the rest of Rome, is mega-normously gargantuan. Words do it no justice. Pictures make it look small. So look at these images and just imagine something infinitely more imposing on top of your head. That might approximate the feeling a little. That didn't stop us from having a bit too much fun, as you can see.

This is an optical illusion. I was trying to wave hi. Honest. Sorta.

Still, the church was utterly awe-inspiring. There's no way you can walk in and not contemplate the passage of time, the genesis of the universe, and our places within it. It's strange to come to a place like Rome, where the people seem to be comfortable living in and around their history (some great, some really not so), whereas, I feel that American history is often either placed on a high pedestal or buried never to return. There seems to be no in between.

After soaking in the grandeur of the St. Peter's, we went up to the top of the dome, to the cupola which is one of the highest points in Rome. You can indeed see the entire city from this point.

So it was at this point that I (Reinhardt) proclaimed that this was the perfect place to record myself reading a story that was being published in the Paramanu Pentaquark, the online journal of Gothic Funk (thanks, Connor), and that would be premiered at a stupendous party in my absence. People seemed to take this odd occurrence in stride. So after that, and a quick jaunt into the catacombs of dead popes underneath the Basilica, we left to go back to the hostel. At least, we intended to.

As the sun ebbed in the sky, we passed the Piazza Navona, an oval strip of land that reminded me of Union Square Park in New York City, with artists and artisans hawking their paintings and sculptures and crafts. Then we stopped at the Pantheon, a monolithic ancient temple to the Roman gods turned Christian church. The immensity of this monument was stunning. It was almost too much. Maybe it was. Because we then promptly got lost. We don't know how. We had two maps. We hadn't had much trouble earlier. I figured that this was God's sweet revenge by saying, as we were exiting St. Peter's, that “Martin Luther DID bring up a couple of good points.”

And we were off, zig-zagging up and down streets, never able to locate ourselves on the map. We kept coming across the monument to Vittorio Emanuele II (the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier), and orienting ourselves wrongly every time. This way...no that...up?...which way is north...? Eventually, we found ourselves back at the hostel, worn, but not broken. No, that would happen the next day.