The gps was set for Camping Village Fabulous, located just off the outer ring road to Rome. The closer we got the busier and crazier the traffic grew but we kept calm, manoeuvring along multiple lanes and merging traffic. The rule here is if you want to cross 4 lanes just point your nose in that direction and do it. And if someone's in your way, honk so they pull into a smaller gap between lanes so you can get across. (Not how I chose to drive of course but interesting to observe).
We picked Camping Village Fabulous for its location and easy local transport into the city, but we weren't quite ready for the hei-dee-hi atmosphere that surrounds this place, complete with a DJ in the evening playing family favourites like an Italian version of the Macerena, that kids and parents danced away to. But the staff were friendly and very helpful in making our travel plans in to the city, despite there being a local transport strike scheduled for the following day.
Having our museum plans in Florence previously dashed, We had wised up and luckily secured pre-booked tickets for 2 to the Vatican museums at the only available timeslot during our stay, of 8:30 pm on the Friday night. So with some effort I booked a hotel room in the city so we could sightsee in the morning, rest up in the afternoon, and do the Vatican that night without having to worry about how we would get back home at the end of a long day. I found what seemed like the last room within our budget located near the Vatican, and we set off with a backpack each, with a few essentials to make an overnighter comfy. And looking forward to the prospect of a night in a real bed. Heather had dashed about and secured 2 seats on a shuttle to by-pass the bus strike.
The colosseum was gobsmacking. The queue outside was predicted to take 1 1/2 hours to get entry, but our homework paid off and we used our Roma pass and went straight to the priority entrance. Couldn't help referencing what we were seeing to the gladiator movie to picture the dramas that unfolded here over time.
The size and age of things here is hard to fathom.
A flagging Awhina followed Heather around the surrounding ruins, being called to attention as heather read commentaries from the guide.
We chose a private hop-on-off bus due to the transport strike, and had a much appreciated seat as we toured the city. Then it was time to locate the hotel, which we didn't reach until about 3:30. There was no formal reception, just a nameplate and buzzer on the wall along with the other building occupants. But no one answered. Stood about looking dumbfounded for awhile, retried the intercom, then got Heathers phone out to try and call the number listed. No answer. Then as someone exited the building we gained entry into the lobby and took a tiny 2 person elevator to the 4th floor. Rang the door bell multiple times as we stood in the narrow hall. Eventually we heard a persons clanging and puffing as they climbed the stairs. Success we thought, finally someone is coming. BUT we were met by a very grumpy women, who, without lowering herself to converse in English, demonstrated the the lift was left unusable to others when the second set of doors were left open on the 4th floor. In she got and off she went. As a last minute thought I checked my emails to find an apologetic response from the booking site I had used to say there had been an error and no rooms were available and they didn't understand how a booking could have been confirmed. With weary legs and achy feet we exited the building, tried a next hotel, which was also full, and they helpfully rang around but couldn't find an available room.
Plan B. We would go for dinner and eat slowly, enabling us to maximise the resting time before going back to the Vatican. A few drinks along the way helped, though we were mindful of remaining sober enough for the evenings schedule.
Returned to St Peters square, took awhile to locate the way to the museum entrance, climbed yet more streets before we even entered and then had a relatively easy and unexpected entry.
What we saw next was mind blowing. Heather had written a list of the whistle stop highlights so we could prioritise the museums of our choice. The first housed displays of giant sized statues that had been purchased from around Europe at the request of popes over the ages. The buildings that housed the museums were amazing in themselves, and sight after sight was breathtaking in splendour and wonder. We always knew the Roman Catholic Church was wealthy, but this was staggering. We hadn't even gotten to the sisteen chapel and I was already overwhelmed by opulence, splendour, colours, skill and work of centuries of masters. Then, near the end of our tour, we came into the sisteen chapel, where the frescoes of Raphael and ??? lined the walls, and the work of Michelangelo adorned the vaulted ceilings. By this stage I wished I could have done the sights on a mechanics under the car trolley, so I could scoot around on my back and appreciate the ceiling views.
By the time we were done we conceded to costs and grabbed a taxi for 75 euros back to the camp. Probably a rip off, but too tired and too tricky to do otherwise.
The next day we took a late start and went to find a museum housed on the site of old Roman baths. Then lunch, more sights and home again for a cuppa and the last of the panaforte.
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