Sunday the 17th. My last full day in Rome. I managed to sleep until 8 a.m. but again had to cancel the wake-up call; I prepared myself and made my way to the breakfast room, where the morning’s sugary diet awaited. The woman who worked in the breakfast room spoke a few words of English, and I spoke no Italian. Lucky for us, a cappuccino is a cappuccino.
I started leisurely because I’d walked so much on the previous day that the muscles in my legs were a little tight. I decided to explore the vicinity in which my bed & breakfast was located. Around the corner, I discovered vendors under the archways of various buildings. They sold flowers, cheap clothing, and knock-off goods like purses and electronics. Being daylight, I decided to wander through the local park. Here, I discovered a small children’s park with themed rides and a few unkempt old ruins; people milled about, including tourists and a few people who looked unhoused. They drank and slept on what little grass was left to grow through the dirt.
I turned back around shortly thereafter and made my way down a quaint street of old condos. Another basilica appeared before me. I’m not certain how many there are within Rome, but a person doesn’t have to walk far to find one. Scala Santa, the church of the Holy Stairs. Tourists and locals alike were sitting on its steps outside while a large crowd appeared gathered in the lobby. Though the outside was by no means as extravagant as other basilicas I’d seen in Rome, I decided to go in to take a peek. Because what’s one more?
I found myself in a small lobby filled with people staring straight forward. They were observing the people ahead of them on a stairwell, people who were very gradually climbing the stairs on their knees. I stopped and joined the gawking crowd. What I learned was that the middle stairwell can only be climbed on one’s knees (for some Holy reasons), while the adjacent stairwells one can climb à pied. Once, a man in a plain brown robe came around with a finger to his lips and loudly ‘shushed’ the crowd to “Keep the silence”, he said in English. Then, directed at those standing on the Scala Santa to “Get Down! Knees!” My memory of this is still quite fresh because though the man made little sound and appeared very modest in his brown robe and sash, his voice was very big as it echoed within the lobby and across the crowd.
I skipped the crowd and made my way to the top via the right stairwell, as one does, and later came down the left stairwell. I took a look around the small basilica. It was well decorated, with frescos on the walls and ceiling. A window atop the Scala Santa allowed those praying to peak through to a vaulted and fully gilded shrine. An office, souvenir shop, confessional booth, and private chapel were all located on the second floor.
Outside, and across from Scala Santa, was a very big, extravagant basilica. Inside, the twelve apostles stood in niches at larger-than-life size, the floor was ornately tiled mosaic, and the ceiling was moulded and gilded in gold. Being a Sunday, service began shortly after my entrance, and so I wandered around the basilica to catch a glimpse or two of the devout in thrall of the speaker. After taking my share of photos, I wandered out.
After some time, I found myself back at the Colosseum. It was just before 1 o’clock in the afternoon, and with a walking tour starting at 1:40, I hopped into the long line of tourists entering the Colosseum. With ten minutes to spare before my turn at the ticket booth, the woman ahead of me decided that she would try to appeal to the cashier to be reimbursed for her stolen tickets. Pickpocket’ed, even though an overhead P.A. announces in many languages, and at regular intervals, to be aware of pickpockets both inside and outside of the Colosseum. With two minutes to spare, the woman resigned herself and repurchased two tickets. I purchased my tickets, including the walking tour, and headed to the meet-up spot. The walking tour was led by an art historian who had studied the period during which the Colosseum was built and those periods on either side. They provided a lot of interesting facts, which made the tour memorable and worth the ticket price. Here are a few of those facts. I. Why does the Colosseum contain so many holes? Shortly after the fall of the Roman Empire, the iron contained within the stones was bored out and recycled. II. While public executions were held between events at the Colosseum, contrary to popular belief, no gladiators ever fought to the death. III. Arena comes from the Latin harena, meaning sand, which covered the Colosseum stage.
What I also learned from my tour guide was not to throw out my ticket because it could be used to gain entrance into the Palatine and Forum. After thoroughly exploring the Colosseum for 3 hours, I made my way a few feet across ancient Rome and entered the Palatine grounds. What can I say about the Palatine? Bring an umbrella and prepare yourself with bottled water or aqua tablets for the supply of fresh water from the public fountains throughout the grounds. I explored the grounds until closing, 6 p.m. Unfortunately, my knock-off batteries died just shortly after entering the Palatine, so I didn’t get many photos on my last day.
I wandered my way back to Ponte Garibaldi and the riverside happenings. I walked so long that my desire waned, so I followed the locals out in the direction of my B&B. Or what I thought was the direction back. To make a long story short, I got lost and had to hail a cab to make it back (though there’s a 24-hour concierge, I tried not to stay out later than 11 p.m.). I left the window in my room open to let in the cool night air and fell asleep.
The next morning, I had my last sugary breakfast and a cappuccino. I explored a few sites before heading back around 2 p.m. to gather my things and head to Termini Station for the airport. The ride to the airport was uneventful, and I was thankful to be in transit in any other way than on foot. When I reached the airport, I was sad to be leaving Rome, but the feeling soon dissipated in my excitement to be moving on. Next stop: Riga, Latvia.
