The Vatican and I get to wear the Shroud of Shame

Today was Vatican Day.  What a mind-blowing place, with a self-guided tour that starts off strong with St. Peter's Basilica, then lets up a little as you travel through the museums, and then builds to a finish that proves it is among the finest museums in the world.

The day started with another bus ride, this time #280, and a quick walk across the Tiber to the Castel Sant'Angelo.

On the bridge, I discovered the Roman Goddess of Rock n' Roll, I believe the name was something like Deus Sniderus.

We started the Vatican tour with the Basilica di San Pietro.

I felt that surely this place housed a fair number of rats, and when I saw the Rentokill van outside, it confirmed my suspicions.

Stepping inside, two things happen immediately.  You look up and around, and you forget to blink.  It is a stunning cathedral.

Looking straight ahead...

...and up...

...and at the mass going on in one of the naves...

 ...and then turning to look the other way.

Pictures simply can't do it justice.  Given the Italian propensity for statues and busts, there are more popes enshrined here than in the Catacomb of Callixtus.  At first, it almost seems more of a shrine to the papacy than a house of worship, but that feeling goes away after you see the Pieta.

Speaking of statues, here's the best one of the day.  I call it "Not that hat...I'm not wearing that!"

Another statue that held an important lesson for me was that of St. Peter himself.  Apparently, it is ritual for the pious to touch the feet of this statue during the visit to the basilica.

I realized that our feet are in great shape compared to this guy's.

With the Basilica tour complete, we headed to the stairs to engage in another ritual, Walking Up the Cupola.  It started out easily enough, stairs wide and shallow.  We took a break at the hundredth stair.

Pretty soon we were looking down at the floor below...

 ...and getting a better view of the main dome above.

Then, the stairs got steeper and narrower...

...and after stair # 375, the team was looking a bit miffed that I hadn't paid the extra 2 euros each for the elevator.

Then the stairwell really got steep, and the handrail became a rope.

Finally, we were rewarded with the best view in Rome.

The total number of stairs on the way up: 551.  The total of the way down: 551.  So, in addition to the six museums that we covered, we did 1,102 stairs on the cupola walk.  On the way out of the basilica, our son had an epiphany.

Not done by a long shot, we next headed to the Vatican Museums.  Thankfully, I was blessed to find the Old Bridge Gelateria on the way from St. Peter's Basilica.

While I could put dozens of great pictures up, I'm getting sick of typing, so I'm going to keep it short.  In a nutshell, the museum tour is a masterpiece.  It starts slow and builds slowly, so that by the time you see the frescos painted by Raphael, you realize just how amazing the work is that you are looking at.

You spend most of your time looking up.

...while listening to the audio tour.  Your neck gets tired, and your ear feels like Muhammad Ali's after three hours of audio tour, but you just have to keep looking up.

This was the most amazing ceiling - "the death of paganism".

...still looking up.

Even sitting, they keep looking up.

As the coup de grace, the Church lets you into the Sistine Chapel to see the work of Michaelangelo.  You're not allowed to take pictures, so I have nothing to show but the link above.  Our 9 year old called it the greatest work of art he's ever seen, and I think that pretty well sums it up.

Finally, we escaped the Church's clutches and made it outside into the crisp night air.

Now, I'm sure you're wondering where the Shroud of Shame comes in?  After a full day out, we hopped the 280 bus back to Testaccio.  We were famished, so we stopped in the first restaurant that we hadn't eaten in yet.  It turned out to be Trattoria da Oio.  First, a little background.  Testaccio used to be the working-class neighborhood where the slaughterhouses were, so its residents got used to eating primarily offal, the parts of the animal that no one else wanted to eat.  Where I grew up, we called them "the innards" and fried them.  As a result of this history, some restaurants in Testaccio specialize in traditional offal dishes, and Trattoria da Oio is one of these.  Taking advantage, I played it safe with one course, Pasta e Fagioli, and went for the Ox Tail as my main dish.

Little did I realize that when a turista comes in and orders the ox tail, which can be a bit of a handful to tear apart and eat, they get to wear a tacky bib...like a toothless old man going into the Crab Shack in Florida for all you can eat.  Since I can play the fool with the best of them, I did.