Possibly Offensive To Catholics

After a bit of time on the Amalfi Coast, I decided to dive in and go to Rome. I was unsure of what to expect from Rome, since I had heard mixed things, but -spoiler alert- I loved it right away. Rome was also the first place that I went where I felt like I was shaking off my jitters and acquiring some confidence, which was very exciting.

The Pope's Clubhouse.

On my first full day in Rome I decided to go to the Vatican Museums. I assumed that when I got into Vatican City, it would be apparent enough where to go, so when I saw a massive line stretching out in front of the Vatican, I assumed that was it. Usually when I see a line vaguely in the area of where I think I want to be, I hop in it. I'm like a moth to the flame. What can I say? I like being a sheep. Lines are abundant in Rome, and due to the fact that attractions are often close to one another, it is easy to wait an hour and a half in a line to see something that you weren't planning to see. At least this happens to me. The line hadn't started moving yet since it was early and things weren't open, but I was ready to wait. Luckily, I was able to amuse myself during my time by being aggravated at my fellow line-goers. Just as I was about to step into the line that was already halfway around the plaza, a couple quickly butted in front of me because God forbid another single person be in front of them in this thousand person-long line. And the same could be said for me, it's just two people more, what's the big deal? The big, annoying deal is that this couple is apparently of the belief that they has created a spot for their 50-person tour group. Oy vey.

So now I've got 50 more people in front of me in the matter of two seconds. It quickly became apparent I wasn't in for a peaceful wait. During my imprisonment, I learned many things from this group, such as, how many selfies is too many selfies? There is no such thing as too many selfies. Will pigeons run off when you run at them over and over? Shockingly, yes. Where is the physical location of Hell? Apparently, in front of the Vatican.

To just make things the epitome of perfection, I was sandwiched into the line by two parents and their cherubic toddler who decided to take the day off from being angelic. This was surprising to me, especially at the Vatican, because I know how much small children revere Catholicism and long, tedious masses in general. Perhaps the parents brought their daughter for an exorcism because based on the screeches coming out of that little body, I would expect nothing less than one of the higher-ranking demons to be inhabiting her.

Here you can see the unholy line.

To try to remove myself from this experience I tried to focus on other things occurring around me. For instance, the two women slowly cutting their way up the line behind me. I watched them slowly creep up through the ranks, passing families, elderly, and disabled people with no apparent sense of empathy. Eventually, they got to my level, and try as I might to put my juvenile basketball skills to use and box them out, they managed to get by me too. The real kicker, though, was when they were a couple of places behind a nun. As they were making their way forward, I was thinking to myself, there is no way that they are going to pass this nun. We are in Vatican City, for Pete's sake! I figure, if God is watching for screw-ups, it's going to be in Vatican City. There is just no way. Yet they made their way forward, inch by inch. Finally, they were in the spot just behind the nun, and I thought, okay, this is where it ends for them. They paused, as if weighing the pros and cons of eternal damnation, and then, hastily, they hopped ahead. NO WAY! THEY BUTT THE NUN! I haven't been to Sunday School in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's one of the 10 Commandments, "Thou shalt not butt nuns." Even the nun looked shocked. I even thought I saw her glance around for a nearby ruler.

Finally, with only the barest grip on my sanity, I reached the front of the line. After getting through a ridiculous amount of security, I realized, this isn't where I want to be. In an effort to make it look like I knew what I was doing, I randomly hopped in another line. Somehow I found myself paying money to walk up a bunch of stairs, because I sure as heck wasn't going to pay extra for the elevator to goes who knows where. The stairs could lead directly up to heaven for all I knew. It turns out I was going into the Dome of St. Peter's Cathedral, and not, in fact, into the Vatican Museums. Whoops. It ended up being a positive mistake though with great views.

No sign of the Popemobile.

After descending back down, I went into St. Peter's. It was quite amazing. Like an extravagant Catholic church on steroids. Everything in there is gilded and detailed. As I was walking through though I couldn't help thinking about how much everything in there cost. It was an interesting juxtaposition with just being outside and being asked by a bunch of beggars for money on their doorstep.

I'm not suggesting anything, I'm just saying I can imagine this would be worth a pretty penny on the black market...

Once I left St. Peter's I went to actually find the Vatican Museums. This time I was a little more successful. I wandered around for a bit, attempting to be a worldly and cultured museum-goer. I made my way to the Sistine Chapel, which is the major draw of the Vatican Museums. It's a slightly weird experience seeing the Sistine Chapel. It's positively filled with people. There are benches around the outside of the room for people to sit on and absorb in awed silence. Unfortunately, that silence is often broken by an employee screaming at people not to take pictures. I'm sure they don't want people to take pictures because they want to preserve the art, and not because they have multiple souvenir shops directly outside of the chapel hawking pictures of Michelangelo's work. I found it impressive, but I'm not much of an art critic, so I didn't spend an overly long time looking. Also, I found the crush of humanity in the room off-putting. It wasn't until I left and was walking by one of these souvenir shops and happened to glance at their wares that I thought, "Oh my God, I forgot about God." I totally forgot to look at the most iconic part of the Chapel, The Creation of Adam, or as it as more commonly known, your co-worker's mousepad of God reaching out to that naked dude. Major mistake number two of the day. This meant I had to walk around the whole museum once again to go back. Having seen it, I believe I am allowed to say I am no longer an uncultured swine. To reward myself, I treated myself to some yummy gelato. Note: Treating myself to gelato after accomplishing minute feats will be a common theme running throughout my stories.

Not the Sistine Chapel, but it's a fancy ceiling, so basically the same thing.

Tip #4: Know that sometimes mistakes can be happy mistakes. I'm sure many parents can identify...

The Numbers

Pizza slices eaten: 9

Top bunk placements: 1
Dogs petted: 1
Photos taken: 163 out of 248
Religious figures insulted: 1

The Edge of Glory/Worry

After a couple torrentially rainy days in Naples and Pompeii, I was eager to move on to a new place to potentially escape the rain. My next destination was Sorrento, Italy, which is a good point from which to visit the Amalfi Coast. It was as if someone gave me a little bump, though, and I ended up in a hostel one town over in a place called Sant Agnello. At least the hostel said it was in Sant Agnello, but from how long it took me to walk uphill to it, it could have been on the top of Mount Everest. I asked somebody for directions along the way and they literally said to me, "Oh, it's just up the mountain." On the day that I was supposed to check in to the hostel, I was practically sprinting because I was nervous about not being there on time. Some of the hostels put a scary note on their page that says something like, "If you are not on time to check in, we will absolutely, positively, 100% give your room away, leaving you in the crappiest of circumstances because we are in the middle of nowhere." This is verbatim. By the time I got there, and on time I might add, I was soaked from the rain, which had not gone away yet, and from a serious back-sweat situation. The kicker was, the lady wasn't even there! All this jibber-jabber about being on time, and yet here I am, a smelly wreck collapsed on the ground in a pitch-black hallway waiting for my host to turn up. It turns out she is a very sweet lady, so all is forgiven.

In Sorrento, there are orange and lemon trees everywhere. I don't know if they are fair game or not. Either way, they are healthy, so I wouldn't eat them anyway.

Poster in hostel...maybe she isn't such a sweet lady...

The next day, my plans were to go to Amalfi. I quickly learned that getting there is the fun part. You've never lived until you are sure you are going to die careening off a cliff into the sea because your bus driver is happily babbling away on his phone. It's pure exhilaration. Looking out the window is frighteningly awesome, because in looking down, you literally can't see any road because you are so close to the edge. Frankly, I am amazed by the drivers of these buses. The roads are so tight and winding that they must need a tremendous amount of strength in their arms to pull the wheel back and forth for hours of loops of this road. Or in the case of my Chatty Cathy driver, strength in one arm.

Before I realized that I was on a demon bus.

You can kind of see from this picture how close the bus comes to the edge. Fun!

Along the coast road, the bus passes through a couple different towns. Positano is one of the more well-known towns, and although I didn't stop, it looked wonderful and I heard great things about it. In Naples, I had dinner with two Korean guys, one of which could speak English very well, and the other could understand, but didn't speak it. The one thing the entire night that the guy who didn't speak English did communicate to me was "Positano" and the thumbs up sign. So it must be nice there.

"Positano" -Thumbs up sign-

The Amalfi Coast has many qualities that make it an excellent place to visit, but one of the main reasons people go is to see the way these towns are built. They are situated, like the aforementioned roads, so that they are built into the cliffs of the coast. What this means is that there is a great deal of verticality. Hence, -ugh-, hills and stairs. In spite of these things, my two greatest enemies, I had a lovely time in Amalfi. I was definitely blissed out on the fact that the rain had finally and mercifully stopped, but more importantly, on being in this truly beautiful place. Because they are so vertical, when you get at the right angle, you can see a lot of the towns, which makes for captivating views.

Amalfi.

Also Amalfi.

Seeing all these places along the coast, I couldn't help thinking, why would anyone want to put themselves through the trouble of living here? I mean other than the fantastic views, lovely people, abundance of delicious seafood, and general excellent quality of life. But can you imagine having to get a washer delivered?!? In addition to the towns, while driving along, I could often spot lone houses way up on the hill. My first thought is always, "How do you even get up there?" And second, I think about how these people sometimes have to haul supplies up this mountainside, and how I'm usually too lazy to even walk the 20 feet to get the groceries from the car.

Not a great picture, but you can see the ridiculously located houses. How do you get there?!?

The ride back from Amalfi was even better than the way there. It had all the fun and excitement from the first ride, driver on a phone included, but this time also involved a five minute Mexican standoff. Basically, our bus and a van reached a one-lane bridge at the same time, both vehicles continued driving onto the bridge, and then, obviously, both had to stop in the middle. The first minute was tense because there was complete silence, and the drivers weren't even looking at each other, just looking off into the distance, feigning indifference, waiting for the other to move. Minute two switched things up because now the drivers were staring at each other, murmuring things under their breath. The third minute turned things into high gear because now both drivers are yelling at each other. Reaching minute four was when the frenzy began. In addition to the lines of cars honking around us, the native Italians on the bus are standing up and getting involved in yelling at the van driver too. So many rude hand gestures! So many! Meanwhile, I'm sitting gleefully in the back of the bus hoping this moment will never end. Minute five was where the dam broke and the bus driver opened the door, remembering to grab his can of whup ass out of the glove compartment on the way out, and it was at this juncture that the van driver decided it would be in his nose's best interest to back up. Who even needs television?!?

Tip #2: It is imperative that you sit on the right side of the bus.

Tip #3: Always validate your train ticket, because the time you don't will be the time they check.

The Numbers

Pizza slices eaten: 3

Top bunk placements: 1
Photos taken: 61 out of 85

Rude hand gestures witnessed: Approximately 73