The entrance to Vatican Museum at closing time.

The following morning the sky was blue and the sun was out. I remember the morning well because I had told the children not to wear their winter coats or rain jackets. But no-one listens to their mother, and all tumbled out the door as if heading for the snow. A few minutes later we were on the Ponte Sant’Angelo with the sun beaming glorious on us and as I looked at my kids I had to roll my eyeballs because I knew they were uncomfortable even though they didn’t want to admit it. “Eh oui” I said, and sent them back to change.

Back when they were little I use to shove half the kitchen and half their wardrobes onto the perambulator and push it and three kids around town. Christian in the pram with Pascale and Francoise taking turns standing on the wire basket underneath. We would spend the day out shopping because that’s how long it use to take, with most of it spent visiting all the rest rooms we could find in town. It’s amazing what I would put up with back then. I was a walking model for the “I can carry anything” look. But they’re older now and I have a permanent look on my face that now reads “Don’t mess with me!”

They returned some time later with looks that said: “We are comfortably attired now, but our mother still torments us!” The sort of looks I am training myself to ignore because twenty years from now—when they will be parents—their worst nightmares will come back to haunt them and I will be nodding my head like how my parents do whenever they see me in their grandchildren.

We spent the day visiting Castel Sant’Angelo and then Vatican City. Unfortunately I had forgotten to take my travel book on Italy. I had also forgotten where best to purchase combined tickets for St Peter’s Basilica, Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel (I should had purchased them online a week beforehand, but I had forgotten to do that too) so when we went to line up we were disappointed by the crowds and snaking lines and to this day will never ignore what all the travel books say about visiting Vatican City. We decided to have an early lunch instead and afterwards returned to find that the line had gone down considerably (or at least the line to the Vatican Museum). Here are some pics from that day. The pics from the previous post of St Peter’s Basilica and Castel during the day were taken today too (or Thursday morning two weeks ago).

Security on guard at the entrance to Vatican City. Vatican City is the smallest nation in the world. The city measures 44 hectares and has a population of 400 with a total of 2,000 who are employed there. It is surrounded by a wall (like this one) and during the day is lined with crowds waiting to enter its walls.

There were many that made the pilgrimage to hear the Pope speak during Easter. The Sunday we were there (the week after Easter) many flocked to the steps for mass (I think), filling the area and street all the way from St Peter’s Basilica to the Castel. This is the same area where the apostle Peter was crucified upside down and where many Christians were martyred during Nero’s reign.

This is the road leading directly to St Peter’s Basilica; the same road that is crowded each Sunday (or last Sunday of each month) to hear the Pope speak. Most days it is filled with vendors and tourists.

This is where I stop to let my mouth drop. It’s a pic of about a quarter of the line for St Peter’s Basilica; and many took turns standing in line while their families or friends waited in the shade under the columns.

And this is where I get bored and take a picture of our tour group. We had paid 79 euros for a guided tour of the Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel (or rather the Vatican Museum because our guide left us to contemplate Michelangelo’s work in silence with hundreds of noisy tourists). We were told that around two hundred thousand tourists visit Vatican Museum each day (more during summer, slightly less during winter); and when our kids heard that, they just had to calculate how much money the Vatican made.

The true meaning of leisure. And no she’s not picking her nose.

Poor unfortunate Laocoon.

A mosaic of Athena that says: Don’t step on my head.

And there’s more!