Still dreaming

I used to see picture of these buildings and think, "So what?"  I'll tell you what. It isn't just the buildings. In some places of Rome, and Cagliari (pronounced cal ee ar ee), the air is thick with history. It seeps into you and fills you. It is as if you are treading through the ages layering up to the tops of these creations. I could almost hear the ancients walking and fell what life was like for them. Maybe not everyone feels that way in Italy, but I do. It is like breathing in stories and realities of the past, feeling them without studying them.

The Parthenon

A keystone-less dome with an open sky. For thousands of years, it has been open to the elements, yet seems relatively unmarred by it's exposure. Truly a conquest of architecture. We were kicked out for Vespures.

 

The Vatican 

Did you know the Vatican City is it's own country? It is so powerful, Italy doesn't mess with it.  The Vatican is open on one side with a huge piazza centered around an oblesk acting as a calender. The edges of the square are flanked by pillars, three deep, atop which stand the statues of the religious and honorable prophets, apostles, martyrs, and popes of the past. 

Each is symbolized in what the statue holds. Peter holding a pair of keys, Moses with horns on his head.  Thousands of people gather there on Tuesdays to be greeted by the Pope who stands high above on the balcony, I think.  Near the oblesk, there is a circle on the ground. It is the mathematical center of the square. If you stand there, all the pillars aligns, unify, and you can only see a single pillar. It is a fantastic visual allusion.
 

To enter the Vatican, the throngs are crushing. It is ridiculous, but the museums which lead to the Sistine Chapel are filled with art in many forms. Tapestries look like paintings. Paintings look like carvings. Carvings look like real objects or people.  Across floors and ceilings, the hands of many masters adorned the halls. Seth's prof called him over to answer a question because "Seth's an artist he'll know." I think I giggled when he said that to me. And, Seth could answer the question. The company I kept were insightful, knowledgeable, and open-minded.

 

The Sistine Chapel was astonishing. Michelangelo, to put it lightly, really out did himself. It is almost beyond words. Mimicking the rest of the building and passageways, it was covered, floor to ceiling, in art. But this art was different. It is quite plan to see that Michelangelo understood the gospel of Jesus Christ and the scriptures, especially Isaiah. One side of the room, one level, illustrates the life of Christ. Paralleling that on the other side of the room, is the life Moses who is a shadow of Christ. The front wall depicts what I think of as the war in Heaven and the fall. At it's opposite, Christ breaks the band of death and Moses is set free.  Of course, high above us wall was life on earth and God's extended finger toward Adam. This room is held sacred by the Vatican. More than once, the room which was packed with little room to move was called into silence. No pictures and modest dress is required.

As we made our way toward the exit, there were statues for sale? Display? Whatever they were, the men I was with were not the only ones to fill in the missing pieces.

This is the staircase leading you to the exit. It is free standing and ornately decorated.

But they don't want you  to slip.

Beyond the Vatican there was another museum and this bridge crossing the Tiber River. It is flanked by statues of angels.

And on this bridge, a cellist was playing this song.  I was facing the other direction when I heard it. It is one my kids love and we listen to it often. I was far from home, without my kids, on Mother's Day, and God sent me a gift on a bridge in the form of a cello and Bach. He earned a tip for striking deep within me.

We also saw potted gardens on most balconies, star jasmine growing on street corners filling the air with a familiar scent, la fontana di trevi where we threw Euros in for wishing, the Spanish Stairs where a man thrust his roses almost into my hands, many small viale leading to circle piazza surround by tall buildings used to house the many residents of Rome.  It is all close and tall. So very different from America with our large homes, yards and spacious streets.
The city of Rome is a filthy city from top to bottom and the ancient unprotected buildings are covered in graffiti. Here is my favorite piece of graffiti in all of Rome.

We left the Vatican in a rush in order to catch our flight to the island of Sardinia.  After lunch in the aeroporto followed by Sisilian Cannoli, we bussed across the tarmac to our plane. The engines created a wind tunnel as we boarded this small plane for a short one hour flight over the radiant Mediterranean.

Across the sea, Cagliari's aeroporto was clean and more inviting than Roma, but it too was empty. And we were at a loss at 7 pm for how to get to the hotel. Of course, we took a taxi, and that ride never loses it's thrill.  We checked into our hotel and loaded the elevator. Before it closed, the manager chased us down and said the room he had given to Seth's prof and Brian was more "suited for the lady. Like a suite." He said with his Italian accent in nearly broken English. He made other arrangements for them and gave us the suite. Finally we went upstairs, the professor declared, "I want to see what I am missing out on." When we entered the room,  a boisterous sound filled the air, and no one felt badly about the new arrangements, except maybe Seth.