I was warned against touring the museum by some of my architecturally inclined friends. If I recall, it had something to do with being underwhelmed, and that the real action was in the cathedral and dome. Having been shut out on that front, we made a meal out of the museum and the accompanying grounds. Julien wanted to see the Sistine Chapel, and hey, when in...no, I used that already.We started with a peek at the exit. Hmm, tempting.
We caught a glimpse of the walk we had taken, as well as the walk ahead, by this scale wooden model of the city.
We left the temptation of the exit and stepped out into a beautiful courtyard.
There's some interesting symbolism going on here.
These hieroglyphs read, "It's hot up in this mutha, poor some water on me". Or something to that effect.
Julien was going to go pose by the giant artichoke, but it was blocked off.
Heading inside, ah Trajan, your ears must be burning!
I hate to say it, but we were pretty loopy at this point. Blame it on the heat, the crowds, the fatigue, or the fact that I have a 13 year old's sense of humor and I'm lowering my 15 year old son to my level, but we were cracking ourselves up."Is that plum moving? This is not a plum, sir!" "Grape nuts."
"Yo, yo, yo, MC Phat Baby rockin' the mic, I mean duck!"
I love maps, so this hall was a treat. A treat covered in musky tourists, like me.
Ooo, here's a nice one, move along buddy.
Right, as soon as this group passes by...
No, no, don't stop!
Tap, tap, tap...
I give. Hmm, a little foreshadowing.
Loads more, but I'll cut to the chase. We came to see the Sistine Chapel, although I will say all the art and artifacts before and after were more interesting to me. We were just too tired to take it slow, well, that and Julien really can't stand the crowds, isn't carrying the camera, and likes to keep moving. I stopped for a photo in
one room, and wasn't surprised to find him long gone once I snapped the pic. Thankfully Howard had given us some sage advice, and we always had a meet up point and as a last resort, enough money to catch a ride back to the hotel. I hurried on to see if I could catch up, but I made it to the chapel and had to wait in a visible spot for about 10 minutes before I caught sight of him coming back in from the exit. We high fived. Even with the guards shouting "Silencio!" and "No foto!", we snapped a stealth pic like dozens of people around us, and moved on.
With that out of the way, we hobbled on bloody stubs to the Vatican Hut for some bland pizza and booze.
Our hopes to find another entrance to the dome were dashed, and we were directed to go back the way we had come, a 10 minute walk, to St. Peter's Square. The throngs of people that had gathered for the public address earlier all had the same idea and the line to get in must have coiled around for a mile. Defeated, we jumped in a cab and headed home.Back at the ranch, Julien curled up with his book, and didn't remember passing out a few minutes later. I showered, contemplated blogging, then succumbed to exhaustion. It was 6:30. Next up, our mad dash to squeeze in a few errands before catching our train to Venice.