Italian Ice

February 3

Rome was certainly not what I was expecting. I fell in love with the city the second I hopped off of the train, despite the fact that there was nothing extraordinary to elicit such strong feelings so soon. But soon enough we were skirting around the puddles of the cobblestone streets towards the Tiber River. The first major monument that I saw was the Castel Sant’Angelo, which I later confirmed to be a landmark from Angels and Demons (I love Dan Brown’s books!). And then I realized that the big dome in the distance was Saint Peter’s. That’s when I started freaking out.

How can I begin to describe the Vatican? Well, I can’t. I just remember feeling overwhelmed as the arms of the colonnade welcomed me into St. Peter’s Square (which is exactly what they were designed to do). I’m having trouble even finding the words to write about it now. Basically, it’s beautiful. Being surrounded by such magnificent architecture, knowing that it houses some of the most precious artworks in the world within its walls—just knowing that I was in its vicinity was a dream come true.

Our first main stop was the catacombs. As the Swiss Guards ushered us through security, it began to snow. Big, fat, wet flakes of snow (this will be important later). Anyway, we were led down underneath Saint Peter’s. Constantine completely leveled the area, which was the site of an ancient pagan burial ground, in order to construct the church. The reason that the area was excavated was that the church was searching for the remains of Saint Peter (he was martyred and then Christians had to hide his body because Christianity was still illegal at this point, something like that). Well, in 1968, the Vatican confirmed that they found his remains (his feet are missing because he was crucified upside-down). And I got to see them, tucked away in a corner, underneath Saint Peter’s basilica, where only 150 are allowed per day (while over 150 thousand people visit upstairs per day).

Still reeling from that, we were ushered up some stairs and right there, without any warning, we’re in the middle of Saint Peter’s, smack dab in front of Bernini’s Baldacchino (a large Baroque canopy that sits over the high altar of a church). And right behind that is the cathedra that houses the remains of Saint Peter’s chair, also by Bernini. If you haven’t guessed by now, everything in this church is HUGE. I have never felt so tiny in my life. I was literally spinning in circles, making sure that I got a glimpse of all of the statues. Including Michelangelo’s Pietá!!!

But then we walked outside. I checked the weather before we left. I saw that snow was in the forecast. And I thought, “Ha, it’s Rome. The snow won’t stick.” Wrong. I should have invested in boots instead of extra socks, because by the time we made the trek around the walls of the Vatican, up to the museum doors, I was drenched. We spent most of our lunch hour huddled around the dryers in the bathroom, wringing out our wet socks. I was half convinced that I had frostbite, but I found some plastic bags to separate my feet from all the layers of cold/wet/grossness and prepared myself for the Vatican museums.

Slushy sidewalks

The Vatican Museums are home to some of the most priceless masterpieces in the world. It would have taken days to see the entire place, but Professor Solberg made sure we saw the highlights (thankfully, walking that fast made my feet warm up). So, I got to see Laocoön and His Sons (Michelangelo was present for its excavation), Raphael’s The School of Athens (he painted Michelangelo as the Greek philosopher Heraclitus), and finally Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. Callie, my freak-out buddy, linked her arm through mine as we entered, just in case. But I didn’t pass out. My jaw was literally dragging around on the floor the entire time, and I didn’t hear a word of Professor Solberg’s lecture, because as I looked up from The Last Judgment, I realized that I was standing directly under the outstretched arms of The Creation of Adam. Overwhelming? Just a bit…

The evening consisted of holding a hairdryer over my shoes (cursing the Italians for not having dryers), eating pizza, and bonding with my classmates before passing out in a warm bed.

February 4

My Midwest Mentality told me that all of the streets would be plowed and all of the museums would be opened again by morning. Hahaha, no. We were supposed to tour the Colosseum and Forum, but our tour guide and the city workers who usually guard the monuments had no way to get out of their homes. Jodie wasn’t feeling well, but Professors Solberg, Caldwell, and Rudolf braved the cold wet slush and took us out for a walking tour of the city. We went to Capitoline Hill, where we saw the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius covered in snow.

It was then that I started to realize the number of people crowded the piazza. The Romans were out, taking pictures, being tourists in their own city. The last time that Rome had a significant amount of snow was 1956 (it snowed in 1985 as well, but it didn’t stick like this). And that’s when I realized: I may be miserably cold and wet, but I’m living in a moment of history. How many people can say that they’ve visited snow-covered Rome? So I decided that I was going to be overly optimistic for the rest of the visit.

This wasn’t difficult. Because we turned the corner and, oh look, there’s the Forum (I actually didn’t see it right away because I was too busy looking at my feet, trying in vain to avoid the slush). Wow. If I could go back to one moment in history, I would want to see this place before it fell to ruins. At one point I was eye level with the carvings on the side of Arch of Septimius Severus. Then I realized that the huge stone structure in the distance was the Colosseum. And that’s when I started freaking out. No words, just how? And where’s my time machine?

We didn’t linger at the amphitheater because our professors wanted to make sure that we saw the Basilica di San Clemente before it closed. After a while, you’d think I’d be sick of all of these basilicas, but I find that each one is more interesting than the next (in their own way). I’m especially fascinated by the excavations and here we got to see the remains of a Roman residence, frescoes depicting pagan beliefs, and remains of the original basilica. I never realized that all of these religious structures were built one of top of the other.

After the tour, we had some free time, so Lori and I went back to the Colosseum to gawk some more. I dodged through the crowds of Romans, who were sledding, building snowmen, and throwing snowballs at each other, in order to touch the side of the Colosseum (from now on, just assume that I’m freaking out. It’ll save space). We walked by the Column of Trajan (which depicts Roman battles) and the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II (which celebrates the first king of unified Italy). We stopped back at the hotel to rest before going on the next guided tour. Turns out that our hotel is right next to the site of the Theatre of Pompey, where Caesar was assassinated.

We headed over to the Pantheon (not Parthenon), which is an ancient temple (one of the oldest buildings still in use, surviving because the Christians wanted to turn it into a church) dedicated “to every god.” There is a twenty-seven foot hole in the top of the dome, which is its only source of light. Raphael is buried here and the rotunda was the inspiration of several architects, including Brunelleschi. Next, we went to admire the frescoes of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, which is the site of Saint Catherine’s body (we saw her head in Siena).

After stopping at Giolitti’s for gelato (because it’s never too cold for gelato), we went to San Luigi dei Francesi, home of the Contarelli Chapel. Basically, I got to see three Caravaggio’s: The Inspiration of Saint Matthew, The Calling of Saint Matthew, and The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew. I took a Baroque art class last spring and we spent two weeks studying Caravaggio alone, so seeing these in real life was a big deal for me. Afterwards, we headed over to the Four Rivers Fountain, which is another site from Angels and Demons (Jodie told me that during one of her visits, she saw Tom Hanks running around a piazza, filming the movie). Bernini is truly a genius when it comes to sculpture.

This concluded our walking tour with Professor Solberg, but Uwe (Professor Rudolph) said that he was planning on visiting the Spanish Steps and we were welcome to join him. So most of us took off after him, running through the slippery cobblestone streets as the sun set over Rome. We paused at the Trevi Fountain to make a wish (more Baroque sculpture! This must be heaven!) before finally slipping up to the Spanish Steps (so named because they are located in the Spanish quarter of Rome). There are 138 steps and it was a heck of a lot easier climbing up them then it was coming down because they were so slippery (this is probably where I strained my knee). We booked it back to the hotel, ate at a restaurant around the corner, and then I went back to my room, watched the Cosby Show dubbed in Italian, and passed out around eleven.

February 5

The city was still shut down on Sunday, with no hopes of anything opening up any time soon (the mayor had already announced that school was cancelled for Monday). Again, the professors offered to take us on another walking tour (I have the absolute best professors ever). So Lori, Sam, Duncan, and I visited Sant’Andrea della Valle (which boasts the second biggest dome in Rome) and the Basilica di Sant’Agostino (where Caravaggio’s Madonna di Loreto is supposed to be, but it’s currently at an exhibit somewhere else).

Uwe offered to show us around some more, so we walked down to the Tiber River and saw the Isola Tiberina, an island that is shaped like a boat. Our main goal was to reach the site of the Circus Maximus, aka the place where chariot races took place. That day, the surrounding hills had been taken over by Roman children who were sledding for (most likely) the first time in their lives. We glimpsed the Bocca della Veritá (Mouth of Truth), which will supposedly bit your hand off if you tell a lie. We thought that we saw the Temple of the Vestal Virgins, but it turned out to be the Temple of Hercules Victor, which is right next to the Temple of Portunus (are you keeping all of these straight? I’ll quiz you later. Multiple choice).

After cutting back through the Forum, we went back to our hotel, got lunch, then boarded a bus to head back to Florence (early, because the bus driver wanted to get going before the roads started icing over again). We had the bus to ourselves and I kind of passed out while everybody else watched The Gladiator (in Italian, so I didn’t really understand what was going on anyway). While climbing the stairs at a rest stop, I realized how much my knee hurt from running up those steps and walking on my tiptoes all weekend to avoid slush. But I quickly forgot about it when I found a Nutella snack-pack. The rest of the way home I was a little nostalgic—outside of my window looked just like the Midwest (well, a little more mountainous). But even though I was cold and wet all weekend and was only able to see the exteriors of most of the famous places in Rome, I recognize that this was truly a once in a lifetime experience.