Arie goes to Tuscany

Day One : Thursday

This is my trip journal, more or less unexpurgated, from a trip I took with my family to attend my cousin Leo's wedding. The wedding was in Tuscany, which is where we spent most of our time, though our hotel was just across the border in Umbria.

Italy, like the US, is organized into "states" -- like Tuscany, Umbria, Lazio (where Rome is), etc. Tuscany and Umbria are both in Northern Italy, which is culturally and linguistically (and gastronomically) different from Southern Italy -- and there's a great deal of tension between the two, even a separatist movement. Both regions have experienced an upsurge in tourism recently.

Our flight was uneventful. A couple was loudly arguing in a stereotypically Italian way at the front of the plane. The airport was notable for the large number of people walking around with automatic weapons. We picked up our rental car, a small Mercedes.

I was somewhat surprised by the vehicles we saw in Italy. I had thought that our Mercedes was small (by US standards, it was tiny) but we were one of the largest cars on the road. Throughout the week I only saw two SUVs; virtually everyone drives a very small car or doesn't drive at all -- we saw a tremendous number of people walking, riding bikes, etc. People tell me they can't survive without their SUVs, in which case I imagine we'll be seeing quite a number of fatalities in Italy. Actually, given the way most people I saw drive (more on that later), an SUV would be suicidal.

Our plane landed in Rome, so we had to drive up to Tuscany -- about a 3 hour drive. It's strange to me that these places are so different and yet so close; I live 16 hours from my parents and yet my city is so similar to theirs. The drive to Tuscany was a beautiful one, not like US interstates at all -- rolling hills, farmland, at the top of every hill was a tiny fortified town surrounded by ancient walls.

We didn't exchange any money at the airport, and we realized about half-way there that we would probably need to pay some sort of toll when we exited the highway. We pulled off into a little roadside stand and tried to exchange some dollars for Euros. I'm told that the plural of Euro is Euro, but I don't speak metric.

The ATM ate my card. Fortunately it had instructions in English, but it wouldn't accept my dad's Citibank card, so I tried a few of mine -- it ate my HSBC card but we managed to get some Euros with my Bank of America Card. Fair enough, I guess, I had closed the HSBC account months previous, but it was worth a shot.

Italy used to use the Lira, which was almost comical for Americans -- there were approx. 1500 to the dollar, the smallest available coin was a 50 lire coin, etc. -- every price tag had all these extraneous zeros. Now they use the Euro, which is designed to be 1:1 with the dollar -- much easier for American tourists, no complex math. Unfortunately for us, the dollar was weak at the time we went so it was actually about .9 Euros to the dollar -- which meant that something that cost 10E actually cost us about $11. We generally treated things like they cost the equivalent dollar value, but every now and then we'd be reminded of the 10% "bad economy tax".

Our hotel, the Relais de Magii, was simply amazing. The owners, Paolo and Bambi (heh), used to live in Rome (Paolo was an economist) but moved to Tuscany, bought these farmhouses and opened up a hotel three years ago. They spent some incomprehensible sum to transform this broken-down house into a four star hotel; the combination of the amenities and the staff made it a perfect place to stay. Technically in Umbria, the surrounding area had the character one would expect from Tuscany; the gentle rolling hills, beautiful countryside, Tuscan food. But it was Paolo and Bambi themselves who made our stay what it was; they met our every need and request. The hotel was so nice that I was amazed how affordable it was; I can only imagine that when I go back (and I will stay there again), it will be ten times the price -- and it would be worth it. The Relais was just outside a tiny town called Citta del Pieve (insert appropriate accents).

It's very easy for Americans to pronounce Italian words -- there are just a few tiny differences. In Italian, virtually every letter has a sound, there are very few silent letters. Ci is pronounced "Chi", so "Citta del Pieve" is pronounced "Chitta del Pee-ay-vay". Interestingly, Chi is pronounced "Ki", so chiavi ("keys") is pronounced "key-a-vi". The same happens with Gi and Ghi -- Ghiardelli is pronounced "Gee-ar-dell-ee" and Giacomo is pronounced "Ja-co-mo". There are lots of diacritical marks in Italian but I'm not going to put them in -- sorry.

Citta del Pieve, like most Italian towns, is on a hilltop and is encircled by walls. It was built sometime in the 7th or 8th century, a time when towns had to individually defend themselves, and walls + hills were the best defense known. Rome itself is located atop 7 hills. In modern times, this means several things:

• All the towns look beautiful because they pop out from the landscape and are girded by centuries-old walls.
• All the towns are really easy to find because they stick out.
• Anyone who doesn't have a car is really really strong. It's astounding to see 80 year old women walking up these extremely steep roads. At least, I assume they're 80. Maybe all the walking prematurely aged them.
• The roads are really twisty and precarious. Extra fun when it rains.

For lunch on the first day we decided to go into Citta del Pieve and see what we could find. Immediately it became obvious what we couldn't find -- parking. This town is not intended to be car-friendly. We finally found a spot with some scary-looking Italian sign next to it -- my (poor) Italian skills indicated that it would probably be safe. We walked into a little trattoria (cafe) and ordered some truffle pizza -- it was great food and only cost 3E -- there is nothing of that quality in America for that price.

Our experiences in that cafe were to foreshadow our entire culinary adventure in Tuscany -- almost without exception, the food was amazing and reasonably priced. We were fortunate enough to be there in the midst of truffle season, so we had all sorts of truffle meals -- truffle pizza, truffle ravioli, etc.

Truffles are these delicious mushrooms that aren't generally farmed -- they grow only in the wild and have to be found. Humans, of course, don't have the necessary odor sensitivity to do it -- generally they use pigs. Goody. Tuscan food is great -- unlike French food, Italian cuisine generally revolves around the idea that you should take very high quality ingredients and do as little as possible to them.

After lunch we went to a little town nearby, on the shore of a beautiful lake. We walked around the town a bit, it was gorgeous terrain, and surrounded by olive trees. I decided to taste a raw olive; it was disgusting. It turns out that you can't eat them raw; they absolutely need to be prepared. Sadly, since we were reaching the point where we had been awake for 32 hours continuously, we could not stay awake any longer -- we retired to the Relais.

We didn't really have the energy to go out for dinner, but the menu at the Relais was veal and pork -- thoes of us who don't eat meat were unexcited. We asked Paolo for a recommendation on a good place to get some vegetarian food and he offered to change the menu -- it turned out that we were the only guests and Bambi was the cook, she made this delicious truffle pasta and cheese appetizers. I don't generally eat cheese, but in Tuscany I did -- it's a regional specialty.

Last time I was in Italy there was a strike. Last time my parents were in Italy there was a strike. So it was no surprise that there was a strike scheduled for the next day. Thankfully we were already in Italy -- other relatives were supposed to come by train.

Day Two : Friday

I woke up early today and went for a run with my Dad through the hills. We got to see some of the villas and farms in the area, and we observed some of the empty shells of houses that surround our villa. On our return, Paolo told us some of the story of the region and his hotel.

Italy (and to a lesser extent, Europe) is undergoing a transformation in the patterns of tourism that are most popular -- there's tremendous interest right now in agriturismo ("agricultural tourism"). In its purest form, agriturismo involves renting a room on a farm and farming for a few days, but in a more general sense it represents renewed interest in vacationing in rural areas. Hotels like the Relais have become the new hot trend as urban Europeans retreat into the hills for vacations. The trend is centered on Tuscany and Umbria. Farmhouses that haven't been maintained in decades are suddenly worth hundreds of thousands of Euros; Paolo (who already has 70 hectares, whatever that means) has been trying unsuccessfully to buy the land and houses around the Relais.

After a continental breakfast ("continental" is metric for "not enough food"), we drove to Cortona. Cortona is listed in all sorts of guidebooks as a Top Ten Tourism Site, a place to experience the classic Tuscan town. Sadly, every other tourist within a 600 hectare radius has read the same guidebook, and Cortona is basically a giant tourist trap. It's filled with backpackers, the stores sell knick-knacks and postcards, etc. It's the Nara of Europe. It had the Etruscan Museum but we didn't go in. We did manage to find a great place for lunch though, a little unobstrusive restaurant in a side street off the main square. They only had four tables and the other three had natives, so we figured that was a good sign -- lunch was this amazing porcini mushroom pasta.

After lunch we drove to Siena, a town famous for being a Crayola color. Siena is also known for its giant tower; there's this huge square filled with backpackers, and this gigantic tower overlooks the square and the hills all around it. The view from the top is supposed to be stunning. Siena also has a giant festival every year (as they've had for centuries); last time I was in Siena, the festival was going on so we couldn't climb the tower. So of course, this time it was closed because of the strike. I don't know what the workers do such that their absence prevents me from climbing a tower, but my Italian wasn't good enough to find out.

Instead of the tower, we went to the Duomo. Just about every Italian town has a Duomo, a large church in the center of the town. The Siena Duomo is beautiful, amazing decorations and so forth. It celebrated the life of Pope Pius II, and using my barely capable Latin skills I was actually able to translate most of the enscriptions. We got a bit lost on the way out, drove the wrong way on a one way road (on purpose) and then hit some traffic on the highway.

Elsewhere I've mentioned driving on Italy's mountainside death roads, but it's worth noting that things aren't any safer in the cities. Many were built long before the invention of the automobile, so the roads aren't exactly what we in America would call "family size". Many two-way roads aren't even wide enough for one car, it's amazing how people manage. Most of them don't, of course, they ride motorcycles, bicycles or they just walk. But there are a lot of cars in the towns.

Dinner was at the location where the wedding would be. It was this beautiful house that had been transformed into a hotel by a young couple; before that, it had been one of the sites where the Italian generals met while working to unify Italy. The couple purchased it from the estate of the Contessa of Umbria when she died. The house was beautiful but it didn't look like a very comfortable place to stay -- the Relais was definitely more luxurious. The food at the Relais was better but we did get to experience a Tuscan delicacy, a bread made without salt.

Tuscany, like all of Italy, is overwhelmingly Catholic. However, they have not always been on good terms with the Pope. A little salt is generally used for baking bread; when one of the Popes decided to levy a special tax on salt, the people of Tuscany protested by baking bread without salt. Though the tax was eventually dropped, the people continue (even today) to bake bread without salt.

Day Three : Saturday

First thing in the morning, I went to the steam room.

OK, that's a lie. First thing in the morning I showered in the amazingly luxurious bathroom, read the International Herald Tribune, had a "continental" breakfast, and then went to the steam room. I've always been disappointed with continental breakfasts -- a croissant and some crackers is not my idea of a hearty meal. But at least there was Nutella.

The steam room was wonderful. There was also a sauna and hot tub. No vacation is complete without a hot tub.

To continue the hot water theme, we took a tour of the hot springs at Bagno de V-----. The hot springs occur naturally and the town was built around them in Roman days; throughout the town are channels to direct the water. The town, like every other Roman town I've seen, was at the top of a hill, and the views were gorgeous. This was a repeating theme throughout the vacation. The hills of this part of Tuscany were carefully landscaped -- perfectly shaped trees line the roads, well-trimmed bushes dot the picturesque grounds. I should have taken more photos.

We then traveled to Pienza, a one-street town that seemed to cater to tourists, and then to Montepulciano for a wine tasting. I don't think they understood that we were Jewish -- they kept bringing us ham to accompany the wine.

Montepulciano is famous for its wine. In the United States we tend to differentiate wine by the varietal ("type" -- e.g. Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon), but Europeans tend to differentiate by the origin (Port from Oporto, Champagne from the Champagne region of France). The grapes from around Montepulciano make excellent wines -- Brunello is from this region, the wine itself is termed Vino Nobile de Montepulciano.

Wine is very important to Italian cuisine. To avoid the scandals that have plagued other great wine-producing countries (France), the Italian government closely monitors and licenses wine production. Approximately 10% of vineyards in Italy are considered "Denominazione di Origine Controllata" -- DOC -- meaning that the government has recognized and certified the wine. Even more stringent is "Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita" -- DOCG -- which means that the wine meets high standards for production and quality. When buying Italian wines, it's almost always worthwhile to look for the DOC/DOCG mark. Our host Paolo told us that the wine of the region is his true passion and showed us a well-stocked wine cellar.

Dinner at the hotel, a 6 course meal. High fat -- lots of cheese and tarts for dessert. Great food though.

Day Four: Sunday

Our host, Paolo, gets up early morning to buy us food and newspapers, but there was no newspaper today. The International Herald Tribune doesn't seem to publish on Sundays. It's strange to me that Paolo, who is clearly incredibly wealthy, doesn't mind waiting on us in this way. But he genuinely seems to want to make us comfortable and happy, and I wasn't complaining.

Every now and then there's a car stopped on the side of the road. They looked in too good condition to be abandoned, but I never saw anyone get in or out of them, and they weren't parked near any landmarks or buildings. I never solved that riddle.

We went to the town of Perugia today to see the Chocolate Festival. Chocolate manufacturers from all over Europe come to the town for the weekend, as do approximately five hundred million people. In the larger streets, men on platforms carved up large blocks of chocolate into sculptures, throwing off their shavings into the crowds. Other streets were filled with chocolate vendors. The entrance to the town was underground and also filled with chocolate shops. We parked in the parking lot and rode the bus to the festival at the city center.

You buy a bus ticket before you get on the bus. Then you get on in the back (people exit at the front). There's a machine in the back into which you put your ticket and it stamps it -- at any time, the police can get on the bus and check everyone's ticket to be sure it's stamped. If not, hefty fine. This system took me several bus rides to figure out -- good thing no one checked. I don't know why they don't just put the machines in the front and have the driver watch people as they get on.

I saw two McDonald'ss when I was in Italy -- one in Perugia and another in Rome. After Perugia we returned to Citta del Pieve to eat -- but it was 2pm on a Sunday, so of course everything was closed. A brief trip to the sauna and it was time for my cousin Leo's wedding.

The wedding itself was at this beautiful mansion. The building, which housed the generals while they discussed the unification of Italy, had been the property of one of the Duchesses of Umbria or someone of that nature. After she passed away, it had been purchased and converted into a sort of hotel, for one family at a time. The building is a protected landmark, so the couple who purchased it cannot make any alterations or repairs without first getting permission from a council somewhere.

I'm not going to write too much about the wedding here -- it was a family affair. But here are the high points:

• The ceremony was in German. The bride's family understood it; we did not. There were apparently a lot of jokes because everyone kept laughing. Personally, I think they were talking about us.
• The wedding band was called the Mazel Tov Band, Leo brought them in from Rome. They played songs like Mambo #5 and YMCA, but in wedding band style. Awesome.
• At the kids table ('kids' meaning we were under 30), I got to meet some really interesting people. One of the Germans was surprised that I spoke Italian -- she thought that Americans wanted everyone else to learn English. I told her we do. We did not speak again.

Day Five: Monday

Direct quote from my trip notebook: "Continental breakfast again. Ugh." Fortunately, brunch with Leo and his new wife Simone was scheduled for 11am.

After brunch we drove to Assisi, famous for being the home of Saint Francis of Assisi and the site of a monestary, home to the Franciscan Order. The monestary is a beautiful building at the top of a giant hill (of course, Assisi itself is on a hill). We showed up and asked for a guided tour, and we were lucky -- Brother Robert's tour group didn't show up, so he walked us through the monestary. Brother Robert, who hails from Scotland, was pursuing his PhD in something related to Latin something or other, and didn't seem much like a monk to me; although he had the traditional robe, he was wearing socks and sandals and had a pager. He also used a laser pointer to pick out portions of the artwork. But he definitely knew his art, and he gave us both the story of Saint Francis and the story of the building.

Francesco Bernardone was born into a rich family in Assisi in 1181. He was rather brash in his youth and spent some time in prison before rejecting all worldly concerns and taking on the life of a hermit. Francis soon attracted followers, and Pope Innocent III approved the creation of an order. Francis was canonized in 1228. It struck me as ironic that Saint Francis rejected material goods and lived an emaciated and poor life, and yet the monestary for his order was such a beautiful, well-decorated and expensive building. The original structure was very modest, but at some point a Pope had it declared a Papal Basilica -- and to be good enough for the Pope it had to be vastly expanded.

Saint Francis was devoted to 3 virtues, traditionally painted as ladies:

• Lady Poverty -- one painting has Saint Francis removing his high quality clothing and handing it back to his father; the Pope is holding open the robe of a monk, and Lady Poverty looks on.
• Lady Obedience -- Brother Robert says that she is always accompanied by Science and Wisdom. In light of the church's history vis a vis science, this is not surprising.
• Lady Chastity -- she sits in an ivory tower, which at that time did not have academic connotations -- it symbolized strength, purity and separation.

There are 40 friars at the monestary (20 Italians, 20 from other countries), and between them they speak between 85 and 90 languages (for giving tours). Brother Robert was the only native speaker of English in the monestary at the time we were there, but he was eagerly awaiting the arrival of others so he could give fewer tours. Throughout the world, there are about 16,000 Franciscans.

The Church of Saint Francis, core of the monestary, was heavily damaged by earthquakes, looters, water, and other phenomenon that occur over the course of 800 years. Many of the frescos fell from the ceiling and shattered; computers are attempting to figure out how the pieces fit together. 65% of the largest one was done and current technology can only handle maybe 10-15% more; they hope that as technology advances, they will be able to do more.

Some frescos are just gone, and they cannot be repaired -- they don't even know what some of them looked like. There is a debate in the church over what to do -- paint over the missing section with a neutral color or a color that fits the setting -- or just leave the damaged wall? Brother Robert tells us that the monks want to project images of the missing sections into the space, but the Vatican Arts Council (which oversees all restorations) hasn't approved it. The projectors would shut off every few minutes so people could see the extent of the damage. The brothers are more prepared for disaster now -- they have high quality spread spectrum photographs of every fresco. But in historical times, frescos were not considered very important, and nothing was thought of tearing them down.

You can tell how tall Napoleon's troops were by looking at the gilded mosaics. The tops of them are all gold, but the bottoms are stripped -- the troops stood on each others' shoulders to get as high as they could.

After the monestary we walked around the town of Assisi. Assisi isn't quite on the top of a hill -- it's big enough that it sprawls down the sides. The practical effect here is that the roads are really steep -- I saw more than one person stall their (manual) car out. The town dates to Roman times and has several interesting artifacts, most notably a facade from a Temple of Minerva that dates back to around the 2nd or 3rd century BCE. The town is very much designed for tourists though -- vast numbers of people visit the monestary. We had some pizza, it was terrible. Most of the stores sell the same mass-produced chintzy Franciscan merchandise, though a few sold wonderful-smelling hand-carved olive wood sculptures. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that so many of the stores unabashedly sold weapons and crucifixes side by side.

It was raining on the way back, and we got to drive through wonderful one-lane twisty roads. Fun.

Driving in Tuscany was an experience. Since the towns are all at the top of hills, all the roads have to wind around the hills. In the US we would probably build massive superhighways with giant guardrails, but in Italy they just have two lane roads -- one in each direction. Speed limits are reasonably low but they are universally ignored -- just about everyone drives really really fast, except trucks. When you get behind a truck you overtake it by passing in the oncoming lane. This is amazingly common even on crowded roads -- I saw a lot of near misses. If there's too much traffic to overtake someone, you just drive 1 inch behind their bumper to let them know that you think they are driving too slowly. It doesn't help, but it makes you feel better.

You might think that on the winding roads at night when it's raining, people would drive slower. You might be wrong.

Day Six: Tuesday

I got up before sunrise today just to watch it. The sun comes up over the next hill and lights the entire valley, it's really something. Today we leave Tuscany for Rome, one night before heading on to Istanbul.

The weather isn't great, but we make the drive. Rome is a beautiful city -- the ancient city walls still stand and the modern city has spilled out through the gates into the surrounding area. We went to the colliseum and the old Roman forum, but it was filled with tourists -- I saw one drunk English-speaking man urinating on the walls of the forum. Charming. After the Roman forum, we went to see the Imperial forum -- another large open space built by the emperors (the original one was built during the Republic). I was much more impressed with the Roman forum though -- the rostrum, where Cicero gave his famous speeches, still stands -- as do many other artifacts.

We also saw the prison of Saints Peter and Paul, and a fountain where they performed some sort of miracle. Rome, like Assisi and much of Italy, is interesting in how it mixes its ancient pagan past with its Catholic history and tradition. And of course, there's modern society too -- the tiny prison was attached to a tiny gift shop.

Today we preserve and study Roman artifacts, but western society has not always been so kind to them. It was standard practice for more than a thousand years to use pieces of Roman ruins to build Christian churches. Some use just the columns, but others lift the facades wholesale. Many churches just used nearby ruins (like the forum) for building material -- they hewed the stones free and used them as is to form walls. Interestingly, this is the only way that many inscriptions have survived -- the Christians couldn't have pagan pictures on the insides of their churches, so they covered the inscribed sides, preserving them. I had a Roman history professor whose eyes gained a hungry look every time he mentioned this, and sometimes he would hint at the dream of one day taking apart the churches of Europe to study the stones.

We were going to not drink the water, but by this time I had given up -- I drank lots of tap water and had no problems. After dinner we walked to a little square filled with tourists and people making money from them. Though there were lots of little stands selling souveniers, the primary attraction was a series of people dressed in outlandish ways -- gold lame and gold skin paint, white bandages, statueesque paint, etc. Each would try to act like an animated statue and onlookers would give them money. The center of the square was a fountain with what was apparently a sculpture of a crocodile, though it looked like a dragon -- the plaque stated that the sculptor had never actually seen one, which explained a lot.

Our hotel was a bit scuzzy, but it was only for one night. At least it was in a good neighborhood -- we were right by the Justice Building, whatever that is. It sure looked impressive.

Day Seven: Wednesday

Continental breakfast again. I was thrilled.

My Italian has gotten pretty decent. I even have the accents right -- it's gotten to the point where when I ask a simple question, people answer me in Italian -- a week ago they would laugh and answer in English. And usually I can even understand their answer -- I think another couple of weeks here and I'd be approaching fluency.

We're flying to Turkey tonight, via the Italian airline Al'Italia -- we didn't trust the Turkish airline even though it was cheaper. But first, the Vatican. Last time my parents were in Italy they took a garden tour of the Vatican, and they were hoping to do so again, but no luck -- there's a Papal audience every Wednesday, so no tours.

We decide to go to the Vatican anyway -- at least we can see Saint Paul's basilica and possibly the museum.

Vatican City, home of the Roman Catholic Church, is one of the smallest independent nations in the world. Once the Church was ruled over all of Rome and much of central Italy, but eventually the people felt that church taxes were too high and supported secular leadership. The Vatican itself is built over Caligula's hippodrome (hippo means 'horse'; hippopotamus means 'river horse'), and the body of Saint Peter is believed to be buried there. The actual Vatican City is closed to tourists, but generally you can walk around the square and see the Basilica of Saint Paul and the Vatican Museum (which includes the Sistine Chapel).

When we arrived at the Vatican, though, it was clear that something unusual was going on. The square was filled with chairs and the Swiss Guard (traditional guardians of the Pope) were inspecting everyone's bags.

Every Wednesday when the Pope is in residence, he holds an audience with people who come from around the world. If the weather's nice it's set up outside with the Pope on the steps of the Basilica, otherwise it's indoors. Up to 7,000 people can attend. In order to get tickets, you contact the head of your diocese who arranges it through the Vatican -- the process takes several months. It turns out that you can also just show up and ask nicely.

So we got into the papal audience. It was pretty cool -- everyone else was part of a pilgrimage group from some distant part of the world, members of large church travel groups -- and then there were the three Jews sitting by the aisle. We tried not to broadcast that.

So here's basically what happens in a Papal Audience. First everyone comes in, special ticket holders get the front section, we got into the second section. Massive jumbotron monitors are set up on the sides of the basilica, on the steps there's a little shaded pavillion with a bunch of people on it. There's also a big royal throne, empty.

Then the Popemobile comes out. The Pope is on it -- he tries to wave a bit, but he's not very strong so it doesn't work too well. The Popemobile drives him all around and the jumbotrons follow him and the crowd goes wild. It's exciting. Eventually it pulls up to the pavillion and the Pope sits in the throne and begins.

His speech is translated into many languages, one of which is English, so I could follow. Most of it consisted of acknowledging the individual groups that had travelled from across the world to be there -- the Pope would greet a group from, say, Brazil, and then they would all stand up and sing a brief song. There was a group from Viet Nam, easy to identify because of their pointy straw hats.

The Pope then gave a special blessing for sick people and children, plus he blessed any religious items that anyone might have brought with them. We were woefully unprepared. A few more greetings and it was over. I was sort of hoping he would hang around for a while and mill about with the crowds so I could ask him some questions about his stance on birth control, but the Swiss Guard didn't seem very interested in letting me get near him.

After the audience we went to the nearby Castle of Saint Angelo, which is connected to the Vatican by a passageway in case the Pope needs to hide. It was built independently, but was so strong that the Pope commandeered it. Finally we made it to the Museum, the part I was looking forward to the most. I hurried through most of it to get to the Sistine Chapel before it closed. Then we went through a few other wings filled with gifts given to various popes over the years and the "secret room" of the Vatican archives. The secret room was not such a good secret -- large signs directed us to it, and it turns out that they mainly wanted us to buy reproductions of various uninteresting documents. There was certainly no ark of the covenant, Indiana Jones be damned.

We sent some postcards from the Vatican (Vatican stamps are key) and then flew to Istanbul. But, well, that's a separate journal.

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