In case anybody's belief system includes the traditional legends, this would be St. Peter, just so you recognize him. His own personal basilica is behind him, along with his friends.
St. Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go . . .
(okay, later I found out this one's Paul)
It was a life-long desire of mine to see Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel. I tend to go into ports alone. Oddly, it's hard to find friends who want to stand for an hour and a half in the Roman sun before seeing anything. That's what it took and that's what I did and yes, I'm glad. I took this forbidden photo, with NO flash of course. While the sign said no photography of any sort, there wasn't a person in there without a camera blazing. As I was on my own (not with a group), no one herded me anywhere and I found a comfy bench with a slanty board above the back rest on which to lean one's head for looking up and I could look as long as I wanted. It was amazing, but interestingly, almost cartoon-like.
This enormous guy has stood looking down on everyone near the Coliseum for centuries. If you stand just right, you can look up his skirt . . .
Below is a photo of the original Appian Way, still in use. I inset a little pic of the street sign. Made me think of how the roads have to be re-done every couple of years and this one is still in use after a couple of centuries.
On the most recent Rome stop (it's our home port so I've taken the train in whenever I can), my goal was to ramble around the grounds of the Borghese estate.
I have my trusty Rome AAA (yes, triple A) guide book with detailed maps and headed off from Termini train station in the general direction. The estate is huge so I figured it would be hard to miss.
On my way, an old man touched my arm and told me in Italian that I could suddenly understand, that the most beautiful Bernini sculpture was in that church, there. I wouldn't have even noticed this church, though I'd earlier made a mental note to find it, just to see this sculpture of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa. The church wasn't huge but fabulously ornate inside, a real gem. A lame man held the door for me and I put a Euro in his cup.
A side note, I think I've now visited all the murder sites
from Dan Brown's book Angels and Demons. Maybe I'll have to make a tribute
page. Smirk.
not.
The Borghese estate is huge and open and park-like with tall pines and cicadas screaming like electrical lines near the dam. Paths lead all around and there are museums and a zoo. I just wanted some outside time away from crowds. When I headed back into the main part of the city, I found the tunnel that leads one under the large, frantic highway separating the park from the old city. It came out at, of all places, the Spanish Steps which I wasn't planning to take the time to find, but hey, there they were. So I climbed them. They're steps, all right.
Below is a castle in Napoli very near the port. I merely walked around this one, unlike the one on top of the hill, Castle St Elmo, which I bought for 3 Euro. Mine isn't so photogenic, but it's home. At least it was for several hours.
On my way back down the hill from my castle, I was directed to the wrong Funicular station (by an old man who sang the Funiculi, Funicular song at me). How could I know there were several stations within a few blocks? The cable car took me back down to a completely different part of town but within walking distance of the ship. I just kept asking old men, "Porto? Nave?" and they kept pointing in the correct direction. The old men there tend to not be tourists so I asked them. Sometimes they sing and point me in the wrong direction, but it's all good.
My first time to Messina (Sicily) however, I wandered
beyond my "shopping area" map (giving out for free when you walk though the
port) without realizing it. I found a University district with a beautiful
botanical garden.
Unfortunately, on the way back, I went the wrong way and by the time I asked the nice young Italian woman Dove estamos? (half italian, half spanish for WHERE ARE WE?) she looked at my map with the ship circled, pointed a her scooter and said in Italian, "Get on." It was a wild ride zipping in and out of traffic but she got me back in under 10 min.
All these places don't seem exotic when I'm here. I talk about the names and know how it sounds, but they're just cities where my conveyance takes me. Like an elevator -- the door shuts on one place and opens again on a new one. Lots of stuff to see.
Meanwhile, back in Naples, I was able to get on one of the ship's shore excursion that included Pompeii, that ancient city that was swallowed up when Vesuvius blew so long ago. It was amazing, as were my fellow tourists. The lady in the white pants here was waiting for her husband to find his way through the maze when he went back to retrieve the sunscreen. I think I saw him on the ship later . . .
Another lady, observing the little numbered archeological plaques identifying each building for study was excited, thinking she was seeing the house number addresses of the original inhabitants.
Our guide was Enzo. I really wondered what that long, slicked back Italian hair looked like in its natural state.
I loved the stonework in Pompeii and took and embarrassing number of photos just of bricks and mosaics. I'll only show you one.
They had a few plaster casts of the unfortunate inhabitants, huddled in their final positions. Many of my group were dismayed that they weren't viewing the authentic human remains. I guess I was too, until I actually thought about it.
And how could I not go see the tower. My earliest
memories of "other places," probably from Bugs Bunny cartoons, include that leaning tower so I went and I'm glad.
It's big and just how you want it to look. I actually went there twice,
when my train ticket to Florence ended up being too complicated and time
consuming. The second time, I mostly enjoyed looking at the other people,
posing in ways so it looked like they were somehow holding up the tower "a
little bit more to the left, that's it, honey" while their loved ones took their
pictures. Notice that I didn't straighten out my crooked photo so it looks
REALLY tipped.
And finally, 3 of my friends and co-workers --- Maria from Portugal, a truly delightfully kind woman, and my wild and wonderful roomies, Stephanie (Canada) and Veronica (Uruguay) . It was Canada Day celebration in the crew bar, hence all the red. Afraid I slept through it, but it looked like fun