From One City State to the Ghetto

My plan for the day was to walk to Vatican City to see St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican Museum/ Sistene Chapel and then to the Jewish Ghetto to eat lunch at Sora Margherita, the famed Jewish restaurant with no sign hidden in the midst of Rome's Jewish Ghetto.

I walked out of my hotel by 8:30 a.m.. Vatican City is no close walk. Even with my fast pace, it took me an hour and a half to arrive. That included a stop at Carla's Ristorante for a quick cappuccino. What a treat for the senses. Like my espresso yesterday, I did not use sugar today either. It gave me the pick-me-up that I needed and I continued on my way. Geographically, my hotel is located near the Roman Metro Terminal which is on the east side of the City center. Vatican City is literally on the opposite western side. Crossing the street at one of the Piazzas was my biggest challenge as there were no lights, but I figured it out and have begun to lead the crowds across the busy avenues.

To get to Vatican City you must cross a bridge across the Tiber (or Tevere) River. The Vatican City is technically its own city-state. Rome actually houses Italy's embassy to the Vatican. So technically, I walked from one city to an entirely different city-state today.

I have to admit, despite the fact that I am not Catholic, I had very high expectations for Vatican City. I was surprised that the avenue approaching St. Peter's Square was so commercial. It resembled what I would imagine the red carpet at the Oscars must look like to those going in to accept their awards. Along the way there were souvenir shops with gawdy gold statutes and plates, and in the center of the Avenue were bronze statutes depicting the stories of Jesus' life. As I came closer, I saw the grandeur of the Square, surrounded by columns and filled with awe-struck followers. That is when I felt the goosebumps. To be honest, my impression was not so grand because of the beauty of the Square but I think merely because I grasped the fact that there I was, standing in this place, this place that millions believe to be Holy.

The line, oh the line. It wrapped almost entirely around the "Square," which is actually ovular. This was just to get into St. Peter's Basillica. No charge. You pay to go up to the dome, which I did not do. So after an hour and a half walk, I had finally arrived, only to stand in line. I was struck by the number of clergy standing in line. Two gentlemen behind me seemed to think that because they wore the holy cloak they could budge in line. Not happening. I would compare this to me trying to cut in line to see the Supreme Court ahead of all the other loyal Americans.

The line moved quickly as there is no charge to see St. Peter's Basilica, they merely send you through a metal detector and frisk you. They don't want anything crazy going on in the Pope's church. So, I think I stood in line for probably about 30 minutes before I myself was frisked and entered the Basilica. Again, I got goosebumps. Just its size is incredible. Michelangelo's alter over where St. Peter is said to be buried was incredible. People stand in line in front of St. Peter's statute to kiss his toe. I did not do that.

After touring the Basilica, it was time to exit the City and go around its walls to enter the Vatican Museum. The Vatican Museum costs 15 Euros and includes the Sistene Chapel. While you can take pictures in the Museum with no flash, photos are strictly prohibited in the Chapel. The walk from the Basilica to the Museum is about 10 minutes. The line to the Museum forms along the City Wall. I waited in line to enter the Museum for a little over an hour. As you stand in line there are people that walk along trying to entice you to join the English/ French/ Spanish speaking tour which will be starting momentarily and will allow you to leave the line and enter immediately. While I was almost tempted,  I knew that my attention deficit would get the best of me on any guided tour.

A long wait later, I was finally entering the Museum out of the hot sun. Again, only to enter through another metal detector and to be frisked. As many of you know, the Catholic Church is extremely wealthy, the largest real estate holder in the world. So of course, its collection of artwork was also fantastic. At this point though, it was about 11:30 a.m. and I knew that I was going to take a direct route through the Museum to the Sistene so that I could make my way back to Romedom for lunch. Entrance to the Museum is 15 Euros.

Touring the the Museum, I was of course quite impressed and taken aback by the vastness of the collection. The Museum is huge and probably the most extensive that I will ever see, statutes and paintings alike.

Finally, I made it to the Sistene Chapel. This was one of my most sought after destinations on my entire trip to Rome. Walking into the Chapel was incredible. Not only did it take my breath away and give me goosebumps but I did truly shed a couple of tears. To stand underneath one of the greatest artworks that the world has ever seen and to know that Michelangelo hung from the ceiling and constructed scaffolding to create such a masterpiece, it is a once in a lifetime sort of thing. I specifically took a deep breath when I entered because I very clearly remember the statement made by Robin Williams in "Good Will Hunting" where he explains to Will that although he may be an expert on Michelangelo's works, he has never experienced the smell of the Sistene Chapel. I stayed and gazed for quite a while. I have waited a long time to see that place, and it was worth it.

Leaving the Vatican Museum is almost more ridiculous than it is to enter. It was a winding maze, including a huge spiral staircase. From there I took my route back to the bridge over the Tiber and then through the winding streets to the Jewish Ghetto.

The Jewish Ghetto: Beginning in about the eighth century, anti-Semitism began increasing throughout Europe. Then, in 1492, all of Spain's Jews were either baptized or expelled, with similar acts taking place throughout Europe. As a result, Rome's Jewish population swelled with refugees and by the 1500s, the Catholic Counter-Reformation turned its attention to anything deemed non-Catholic, including Judaism. All of Rome's Jews were forcibly moved by Pope Paul IV in 1555 to the flood zone inside of the Tiber River, creating a ghetto of 4,000 Jews. They lived there behind walls and with a curfew. From there, the Jews continued to be discriminated against, as I am sure, most of you know.

I went to the neighborhood specifically looking for one restaurant: Sora Margherita. It has no sign, but I did have an address down the winding streets from the travel books that I have read. After a few wrong turns and walks down strange alleys, I found the place. I walked in and held up one finger. I was turned away. The man at the register said: "un? we full- you look? no come in." I said "Grazie" turned around and walked out. It looked like a hole in the wall anyway. AND, I plan to write Rick Steves to let him know that his famed restaurant is not single-diner friendly.

Not to be discouraged, I knew I could find another place to eat. It was only about 1:15 p.m.. Just around a couple of corners and there I was at "Ristorante Il Portico." What a wonderful place. The tables are set up in the middle of the cobblestone street of the neighborhood and the food was incredible. I sat there for about two hours, enjoying my fried artichoke, gnocchi pommodore, and lamb. As I sat there, a woman begging came to me and said "Senora??????" Serenading me as I ate was a violinist walking the streets. After about an hour and me taking his photograph, he finally came over to me and said: "Ahhh, Bella????" and held out a cup. Of course I gave him money, his photo is worth something, right?

Eating the gnocchi was like eating little clouds of air. I ate every last one. I just sat back and took it all in. I said to myself a few times: "I am in *u%cking Italy." I did think to myself that I wished I hadn't tipped the violinist so soon because as soon as I had, he had left. Typical man, only out for one thing. There continued to be music playing in the background from a band playing around the corner. I realized to myself that I would not be able to succeed in America's terms in Rome. I would just exist, maybe get a job at a restaurant. In America, our success is measured by the jobs we keep, the houses we own, and the cars we drive. I believe that my American success has no meaning here in Italy. In a matter of thirty minutes, I had gone from the Capital of Christendom to the heart of Europe's Jewish population. What an experience.

After I finished my plate of gnocchi and the waiter had taken my plate, he came over to me and asked: "Excuse me, why you leave artichoke on your first plate? It not good?"  At first I thought he was just joking, making fun of my devouring of the entire pasta dish, but then I realized he was not. So, I took the lamb dish very seriously leaving only bones.

I sat there, ate, drank and watched for nearly two hours. Who needs Sora Margherita? My meal was just wonderful. When I was finally done with my last dish, I asked for an espresso, which again, I drank with no sugar. This espresso was necessary after that meal and my long walk ahead. Since my waiter took kindly to me, he brought me a complimentary dessert, I did notice that no one else got one. Again, like yesterday, people came and went, while I sat there and enjoyed. La dolce vita.

Check please, a bit of conversation, and a couple Euro thrown the way of my waiter for his good service, a "Ciao" thrown in and I was off. The long, wonderful walk back home.

My judge is probably the most important person I will ever meet in my professional life. She taught me quite a bit. From her I learned: how to dress, how to never let a man dominate you in the workplace, and the first chance you get- you go to Italy. The last lesson is of particular importance to me now.

Time to go, room service is here with my espresso.