The Eternal City

Time for another retrospective travel post. This time we’re off to Rome, the venerated capital of Italy. I first visited this city in September 1990. At the time, I was backpacking through Europe with Dean Keiller, a Victorian sheep farmer. For three months, we used a flexible Eurail Youth Pass to visit 12 countries (and a few more after the ticket expired).

Our journey to Rome began in a rather unorthodox manner. Weeks earlier, Dean had discovered that his cousin was travelling in Italy as a Contiki tour guide. We scheduled our time in Florence to coincide with her arrival in town. Much to our surprise, when Dean caught up with her, she offered to collect us from our campground and take us with her to the Eternal City.

Her bus, filled with fare-paying travellers, duly arrived shortly after breakfast on 15 September. She greeted us with strict instructions regarding a cover story she’d shared with the group. We were Contiki staff tasked with researching facilities for camping-based tours. Once on board, Dean and I gamely played our part, regaling the curious crowd with stories of our detailed research, aka, our Eurail adventures to date.

Dean’s cousin subsequently arranged a complimentary hotel room for our first night in Rome. She reassured us that the hotel regularly offered free rooms to Contiki staff under an annual contract. We then transferred to a local campground located some distance out of town for the remainder of our stay. Thanks to Dean’s cousin, we spent our first full day in Rome visiting Vatican City. She took us with her tour group to the Vatican Museum, where we placed our backpacks in storage and spent the day exploring the museum, St. Peter's Basilica and neighbourhoods north of the Tiber River.

The Vatican Museum was an eye-opener. The artwork and precious items on display were beyond belief. It quickly became apparent how wealthy the Catholic Church had become as century after century passed. Room after room hosted all manner of priceless Renaissance artwork, including The Transfiguration by Raphael, a stunning four-metre-tall masterpiece.

We both loved the spiralling Bramante Staircase. If you look closely, you’ll spot me at the bottom striking a pose. This staircase is a double helix, featuring two staircases that facilitate uninterrupted pedestrian flow. People can ascend via one spiral without meeting people descending on the other. Very clever!

Equally memorable was the Sistine Chapel. Nothing prepares you for the majesty of this fresco-covered sanctuary. Our visit coincided with the final stages of a massive decade-long restoration project that began in 1984. During our visit, the chapel’s altar wall was completely enclosed by scaffolding. The temporary structure was clad with a reproduction of The Last Judgement, the stunning artwork hidden from view. I finally got to see this masterpiece 13 years later when Garry and I visited Rome in 2003.

The chapel’s ceiling was every bit as magnificent as posters and reproductions would have you believe. I couldn’t believe that I was standing there with a kink in my neck, looking up at the Lord’s outstretched hand, the most iconic scene in the Creation of Adam, possibly one of the world’s most recognisable works of art. The three images above were all taken years later, when Garry and I visited.

However, the most memorable moment for me came as Dean and I walked through the gift shop. Dean pointed to a postcard depicting the Creation of Adam, commenting that he’d missed this iconic image. I turned to him and said, “It’s in the middle of the ceiling.” He responded, telling me that he hadn’t looked at the ceiling. He thought the artwork on the walls was the chapel’s focal point.

I was stunned. I marched him back to the exit door, explained to the security guard on duty that he’d failed to look up at the chapel ceiling and insisted that he let him back in to see it. The guard relented. I waited half an hour for Dean to retrace his steps and enjoy the ceiling in all its glory. To this day, I still regale others with the story of my friend who never saw the chapel’s ceiling.

The rest of our afternoon was spent exploring St. Peter's Basilica and the dramatic, collonaded surrounds of Piazza San Pietro. The size and scale of the Basilica were truly breathtaking. However, the opulence of the entire complex beggared belief. I couldn’t fathom how centuries of everyday followers of Christ could reconcile such decadent displays of wealth while they lived harsh and impoverished lives.

We collected our backpacks from the museum cloakroom, paid one last visit to Piazza San Pietro, and then headed 8 km out of town to the local camping ground. We based ourselves here for the next three nights, catching a bus into town every morning and back again late afternoon. We ran into a nun as we were preparing to leave the Vatican. It was her first visit to Rome, having dreamt of this moment her entire life. We invited her to join us for a photo with fellow newbies. That's the image which opens this post.

Like all good tourists, we spent the next few days ticking off one iconic sight after another. This included a visit to the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, and Palatine Hill. I loved Palatine Hill, largely because we got to walk around Circus Maximus, the city’s former chariot racing stadium. Dean and I imagined ourselves as gladiators in the spirit of Charlton Heston in the Oscar-winning movie, Ben-Hur. 

Visitors could pay a fee to explore the ruins of former Roman palaces that dominate Palatine Hill. However, as budget-conscious backpackers, Dean and I passed on the opportunity. Garry and I would finally visit this complex years later.  However, we did fork out some hard cash to explore the interior of the Colosseum. Standing in its upper tier, looking down over the exposed undercoft was undoubtedly another one of those unforgettable pinch-me moments.

Likewise, I still recall marvelling at the engineering prowess of the Romans while exploring the Pantheon, and like so many before us, we visited the Trevi Fountain. I can’t recall if we tossed a coin, hoping to return someday. I guess we did, as I ultimately returned 13 years later.  Likewise, we visited the Spanish Steps, climbed Janiculum Hill to enjoy its panoramic view, and wandered the eclectic streets of Trastevere.

On 19 September, Dean and I packed up our tent and headed for the station. Our next destination was Greece. I’d mapped out an ambitious itinerary that would take us to Pompei, then on to the southeast coast of Italy, where we’d board an overnight ferry and visit Corfu, before finally reaching the shores of Greece. You follow these adventures, starting with Pompei, by following this link.

Although I will share one quick anecdote about this marathon journey. The ferry to Corfu was an adventure of its own. The cheapest ticket you could buy gave you a hardback seat on the outdoor deck.  However, the crew allowed passengers to sleep on the deck as they crossed the Adriatic Sea. As a result, Dean and I joined forces with a group of other backpackers, scouted out a secluded, sheltered spot on the open deck, unfurled our foam sleeping mat and spent the night sleeping under the stars. A quick internet search reveals that you can still do this more than 35 years later. I'm surprised EU regulations haven't outlawed this practice years ago.