I was on my way over to a restaurant near the Vatican. I saw these massed crowds of people all over the place standing around near police barricades looking wistfully, longingly in the direction of the Vatican. I walked by a park covered in sleeping bags and tents and people sleeping on the grass or under a newspaper. I was given a free bottle of water from a civil defence volunteer. I resolved not to go within a half kilometer of the Vatican.
I was walking on the north side of Vatican City trying to find this restaurant that I had heard about when I found myself crossing a large street that had been barricaded off by the police. Just before I started across an ambulance had come whizzing by as it took away a pilgrim overwhelmed by the ordeal of waiting to see the pope. Two thirds of the way across the street I looked to my left to see a terrifying sight. Thousands of people running at top speed in a wall of humanity. There was nothing I could do. I was swept up by these pilgrims and physically picked up and carried along with the crowd. We ran down first one street then another then another with police at both sides yelling at us in Italian something along the lines of “Hurry! Hurry!” There was no escape. Both sides of the road were firmly barricaded with crowd control fencing. To stop would mean sudden death under the stampeding Italian and Polish youths who now surrounded me. I didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on until we suddenly stopped, I looked up, and found myself staring at Saint Peter’s Square.
I had been picked up and carried away into the papal viewing line. At first I thought about getting out of the line. After all, on the TV just that morning the authorities had been saying that the wait to see the pope’s body was over 30 hours long and that they had shut the line down because of it. Well evidently it had been reopened because I found myself standing directly in front of Saint Peter’s.
The waves of emotion surging through the crowd were amazing. It would go from a jubilant outing to a sad and somber funeral procession on cue with the gigantic televisions displaying alternately shots of the crowd, photos of the pope during his life and pictures of his body lying inside the Vatican. Every time the crowd would move forward the people around me would let out a joyful shout and surge forward. With every surge forward we got a litlte closer but we also got much more densly packed until it was tight enough that I took a nap for a while by letting the people around me hold me up.
At one point I wound up next to a priest from Oregon who was studying in the divinity school in Rome. We talked for a few seconds before we were pulled apart once more. I have no idea what part of the state he was from.
There were very few people in the line that spoke any English. The language of the day was Polish. The face of the crowd was Polish. This was a Polish pope. This was their pope. These people had taken every form of transport imaginable to get to the events unfolding in front of us. Some had come on train, some on busses, some on planes, some had hitchhiked, some drove. Everyone had a story on how they managed to get all the way down to Rome to attend the Pope’s funeral.
We slowly made progress forward until we entered Saint Peter’s Square proper. Gradually and slowly we inched our way closer and closer across the vast square. There were offerings to the pope littering the square spanning the range from flags to candles. A small group of what appeared to be either Italian or Polish scouts of some affiliation or another had setup shop in the square to put jam on some bread and serve it to people in the line. A small slice of frenchbread didn’t make up for my missed dinner but it did help tide me over and give me the strength to get through the massive crush of people.
Making my entrance into the Vatican.
Saint Peter’s Square
The next wave of pilgrims is led across the square.
The chairs were being setup for the funeral the next day.
Many movies follow. They are of inside the Vatican, the dead pope, the mourners, etc.
Videos of the stream of mourners approaching the Pope’s body and of the inside of the Basilica are below.
Exiting the Vatican.
The below movie shows some of the pilgrims still waiting in line to see the dead Pope.
After waiting only three hours in line the day before the pope’s funeral I was able to see the pope. It was by far one of the most random and chance events to happen to me in quite a long time!
I made my way back across town and to my hotel. I was thoroughly exhausted by the experience and by the fact that I had seen most of the ancient Roman ruins earlier in the morning.
Looking between the two closest church domes, Saint Peter’s Basilica can be made out in the distance.
The Spanish Steps.
The crowd gets ready and settles in to watch the funerary proceedings on one of the several jumbotron TV’s setup in this and many other squares around Rome.
Another stolen obelisk!
Near the entrance to the street leading up to the Vatican. People had been camped out since the night before to get close to the Vatican for the funeral.
People stretch all the way along the pedestrian walkway above the river trying to see the Pope’s coffin from over a kilometer away.
Since things wouldn’t get warmed up for a while, I decided to take a walk around town through the Trastevere neighborhood.
Candles on a bridge several kilometers from the Vatican.
This is normally one of the busiest streets in Rome. For the Pope’s funeral all traffic within the city of Rome was banned for the entire day.
If water starts pouring through the “eye” in the middle of the bridge, the people of Rome know the river is at flood stage.
A random monastery in the Trastevere neighborhood.
I headed over to the Circus Maximus to watch some of the events unfold. Every single tourist site in Rome was closed in remembrance of the pope. There were bus loads very confused Japanese tourists walking around the streets of Rome with nothing to take a picture of! No, really, there were!
In my wanderings I discovered the Belgian Embassy.
The Colosseum had been converted into another funerary TV location. I stayed and watched a bit.
I ended up across town after some more walking. This is a great park just past the Spanish Steps.
Another pilfered obelisk.
As I came down the Spanish Steps the funeral finished and the crowds started streaming away from the TV’s.
The next morning I woke up and headed over to the Vatican once more. This time it was to see the Vatican Museums. This is a photo of the Map Room and its amazing ceiling. Due to the proceedings underway to choose the new pope, the Sistine Chapel was closed. I guess that just means that I will have to return to Rome in the future!
I once again got in line at the Vatican. This time so I could have some time to wander around inside and take a better look without the crushing mass of mourners.
People were still lighting candles and placing flags.
Several movies follow this text. They are all taken inside the Vatican looking around at the interesting things to see.
Leaving the Vatican Basilica.
Everyone gets in on the act of stealing artifacts from Egypt!
And with that I left Vatican City and headed back across town to the slightly less religious tourist attractions.
The crowd at (I believe) the Trevi Fountain.
The fountain.
There was one thing I forgot over at Saint Peter’s Square. To get a picture of myself taken to prove I was there! These are some of the many thousands of volunteers making sure everyone stays safe and hydrated.
People were still lighting candles in force.
It appears to be a monopoly piece on steroids!
And here’s a hand for Rome.
A fitting final picture of the first two sections of photos of my time in Rome. Yet another obelisk gone missing from Egypt.
On the road out of Kosovo. We drove back to Tirana all through the night. Switching vans, we finally reached Vlora at around 1am. I slept in the next day until somewhere around 11am after the adventure in Kosovo. Again, I believe that the only way to travel is with Albanians.