Rome is starting to become more familiar to me. I am starting to know where I am based on old piazzas, and when I get lost I always recognize a gorgeous church that tells me where I am. Most of these Roman days have been frantic see-em-alls for me as I bee-dance around the whole city with a map in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. Not so today. Today I walked out to St. Peter’s Basilica with some New Zealanders I met last night. They were a cute couple, and almost too optimistic (even for me). Actually, I need to side track from today and talk about last night for a second. I went out for dinner with Daniel (my Danish friend who I might have accidentally called Stephen in previous posts) and this Kiwi couple. We all had amazing Italian food, but what made the night really special was the couple sitting next to us. I started talking to them when I asked how their food was while I was deciding what to order. With their answer, I learned a lot more than the quality of their dinner. These two were Irish. I mean like, Blarney stone, pint of Guinness, juice of the barley for me Irish. Gift of the Gab Irish. They started talking to me. And talking. And..well you get the idea. 2 hours into the meal, I was talking macroeconomics and Irish election with the wife, while the husband was speaking in fluent French with Daniel. The 2 kiwis, I felt so bad, mostly just politely nodded as everyone else got caught up in conversation (the Kiwis are pretty laid back). So after a few deft comments by myself, I am happy to report that 2 real real Irish people told me I have the Gift of the Gab. No joke. Life goal achieved.
So, fast forward to the next day. The kiwis and I are walking to the Vatican, and then split up, they to the Sistine chapel and I to the basilica. The line wasn’t so long, and I met a nice family from Nebraska that helped pass the time. I talked to one of them about his opinions of our economy, and even though we came from very different sets of thought, we concluded the conversation with agreement and compromise. It gave me a little hope for Democracy.
I have done and seen many things this trip. I have seen a few things in my life. None compare to St. Peter’s Basilica. You want a testament to what human beings can do? You want proof of our collective possibility? There’s a building for that, and it rests in il Vaticano. I spent hours slackjawed between mosaics, under domes, set on all sides by columns the size of redwoods. Every inch of the vast…building doesn’t seem appropriate…nor Church…space was covered in dense art. Be it molding, designs in gold paint, mosaics, or statues, every inch your eye could find would find you astonished. After hours of walking in this silent, echoey marble cavern, I went outside to get in a new line. This was the line to the Basilica dome. The line to the top.
I paid 5 euros. A pittance. Almost insulting. They let me go around the building to a special entrance outside, where I began to mount the uncountable number of winding, ramped, sometimes worn stone steps that lead hundreds of feet to the dome of St. Peter’s. At one point I was in a spiral staircase smaller than a shower, holding on to a dangling rope which was the only safety device to keep me from falling. I got up to the dome. I’ll just post the pictures. After that, I thought the trip was over. The ride coming to a close. But I saw a sign. It was a small, wooden sign. “This way to the dome,” it said. ‘But I have already been to the dome,’ I thought. This was it, the inside of the dome. I followed the sign. I followed the sign to stairs and more stairs. You might notice stairs as a recurring theme in this story. Now, picture the end of my ascension. A panting Connor, swearing to only use escalators and elevators for the rest of his days, crosses the threshold of the last godforsaken step only to walk out on the outside rim of St. Peter’s Basilica. The wind whips you. People don’t even look like ants from that height. Maybe ticks. Or paramecium. All of Rome was laid out in front of me like a toy. I could see every bend of the Tevere river, the coliseum, the Pantheon, and hundreds of apartment buildings. My Rome gets better by the day. Who knows what tomorrow will reveal?
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