Wednesday started out nifty, and only became more and more niftier as the day went on. (I realize that’s a terrible sentence, but it’s 1:37pm, 2/25 and I didn’t sleep last night, so there.)

We begin with breakfast, as most good days do. The hotel provided an ample selection of deli meats, cheeses, pastries, and fruit, which was fantastic (We don’t ever get a free breakfast. Kind of a big deal.).

We met our overzealous guide right after. She was, in the nicest way possible, an annoying little woman who must have thought we had the combined mental capacity of a groundhog that has just been smacked over the head with a shovel. She went over the most trivial aspects of a guided tour several times, just to get it all through our thick heads. I quickly lost interest in what she had to say and went full-on tourist, snapping pictures like the ruins were crumbling before my very eyes.

We started off at the Colosseum, a structure of the OHMYGOSHI’MANANT variety. It was quite literally a stone’s throw from the Metro exit. (Quick, but important side note: the Colosseo Metro stop is housed in building 22. There are pictures to prove this.)

Again, this is one of those moments wherein we all couldn’t help but freak a bit. Talk about imposing. Row upon row upon row of arches all look down at you and scoff at your insignificance.

It was at about this time that my camera decided to stop letting me see pictures I was taking. I freaked (in a negative fashion) and ended up swapping memory cards with Jessica. 512 megs for 2 gigs = great deal.

Not.

We were only treated to the exterior of the Colosseum. It costs extra to go inside, and our tour guide felt like racing the sun through the entirety of Rome. In other words, there was the Colosseum, an arch, a veritable wasteland of ancient ruins, another arch, and then straight to a piazza with a view and the Capital building? Each new architectural display seemed to dwarf the last, with an endless supply of fountains, churches, and McDonald’s. (Also, we caught sight of a Burger King, but figured it would be too pricey to justify. We may have been wrong on that front.)

Somehow, with her continually sweeping us along, we ended up at the Spanish Steps. I didn’t Rocky it; in fact, it didn’t even cross my mind. At this point we were “free”…

..for lunch. We scrambled a bit (Me, John, Jess, Kris, and the Beths) before settling on a nifty little restaurant that fit our taste/price. It was relatively nicer than others we’d experienced, and had a great selection of food. The guys spoke English (which I still consider cheating, so we sat and had a comfortable, non-confusing meal.

We were supposed to meet back at the Steps to catch the Metro as a group to reach the Vatican, but somehow we were a bit late.

*cough*cough*girls*cough*

We Metroed on over to the nearest stop, then speedhiked it to the Vatican museum. We just happened to catch up with our crazy guide and the rest of our colleagues, and piddled for a bit before being herded into ticket booths and turnstiles.

Immediately, we were taken by the accessibility ramp complimenting the escalator. The style of the ramp was captivating, for crying out loud. Our guide sat us down for a minute to explain the following:

1. She is in love with her own voice.
2. She was planning on jogging briskly through the Vatican.

Naturally, we ignored the junk out of her. Once we reached the top of the escalator, we did what we could to avoid her and tried to document every single column and statue contained within the museum.

That being said, recall at this point that I had to swap my memory card out for a much smaller one. I topped out the camera less than halfway through the museum. Courtyards, statue hoards, paintings, frescoes, STATUES (Seriously. I have a picture of a hallway about 20 feet wide and goodness-knows-how long filled to the brim with statue heads and broken torsos. I wanted a picture of each individual one, of course. Our guide and the memory card had other plans.).

We passed several rooms packed with all kinds of animal and human statues, hit a courtyard with even more statues (more mythology this time), ran into two story rugs which were more like paintings, snaked through a corridor of grandiose maps on par with the rugs, weaseled through a modern art collection (with a few “Oh wow!” ’s and plenty of “Oh, wow.” ’s.), funneled through a maze of smaller rooms covered from ceiling to floor with paint, and then, we arrived.

Where, you ask?

How dare you. Pinch yourself for not knowing.

Sistine Chapel, anyone?

HOLY GUAC. The Sistine Chapel will destroy you. Obliterate you. Annihilate you.

Generally speaking, you’ll think you’re just about 100% inadequate.

The WHOLE ROOM is COVERED in PAINT. And we’re not talking about a broom closet. We’re talking a GRAND HALL with more dedication paid to each speck of paint than you’ll ever have sent your way. EVER. I know you’ve probably seen picture of the Sistine Chapel, what with the infamous “God creating Adam” piece. From the floor, that scene is TINY. Amidst the HUNDREDS of people cricking the crap out of their necks, you’re busy getting absolutely LOST in the HOLY CRAP, THERE IS NO WAY A PERSON DID THIS, BUT THEY DID, AND NOW I FEEL PRETTY RIDICULOUS thoughts running through your head. You see a friend, and offer a greeting of: “OH. MY. GOSH.” The guards shush you. The people around you, also lost in amazement, glare at you for breaking their concentration. And all you can do is carry your bottom jaw a few inches off the floor.

It was at this point that Elizabeth suggested we not leave. Instead, she proposed a slumber party, wherein all people involved lie and stare upwards throughout the night. (The Pope would be invited, of course)

Somehow, we were pried away from the room. Its one of those sights you don’t see: you experience it.

After that, a short walk out of the Vatican dropped us in St. Peter’s square (ellipse). John wussed out on taking a photo with the Swiss guards, who are apparently a force to be reckoned with despite their…fanciful…uniforms.

Jessica informed us that her aunt/uncle were coincidentally in Rome for the evening, and expressed a certain desire to go see them (go figure). The rest of us (Me, John, and the Beths) were planning on walking her to meet up with her fam, and then scrounging around for something to eat ourselves.

When we united J and J-FAM, they insisted that we go eat with them. So we did, of course. They told us of this great restaurant not too far away. We were all game, of course. They walked us into a dark alley, beat us senseless, transported us somewhere (hard to tell when you’re unconscious) and harvested our kidneys. We awoke the next morning and staggered around Rome with nothing but the rags they left us. The police refused to help us, so we depended on one last bit of energy which ended up retuning us to St. Peter’s. There a tourist spotted us and arranged for transport to our hotel. The school couldn’t be burdened with the complications of our plight, and as such effectively turned its back on us.

Or not.

They did, in fact, tell us of this great restaurant, and they did, in fact, walk us through a few alleys.

We made it to the restaurant without incident, and ate to our hearts content. The spaghetti was fantastic, and J-FAM was quite easygoing and interesting to talk to. (I kept my hand over my kidneys the entire night.)

About the time we would get up and pay, J-AUNT returned (we assumed from the restroom). She told us that dinner was on them. We protested, but they told us: “It’s karma. We buy dinner for a few college students, and then someday down the line someone buys our children a meal in a foreign country.”

Effective, for getting on the good side of college students everywhere.

We left the restaurant and headed to J-FAM’s residence to meet up with the J-COUSINS. They were cool enough, if not a bit young and more…interesting than we first thought. We walked around to a gelato place, and indulged our sweet tooths. A quick circle around the block (We seem to enjoy walking in circles. We haven’t figured out why.), then we dropped the kids back at home and cheesed it to the Metro to the hotel.

END WEDNESDAY