The Vatican

Harry's last day has arrived and we need to make sure that he gets the best out of it. By now, everyone is exhausted from the hours spent walking around, every day, so much so that even Harry is hinting at a rest day. That makes me feel a bit better about my aching legs and knees! It's not going to happen though, Harry can rest all he likes when he gets home. Today, we are going to the Vatican City, aching legs or not. Even then, he will be leaving so much undiscovered in Rome and I hope that he will return to finish the job another time. 

Sue isn't feeling too good today and bows out, I'm disappointed for her and tell her that we can go the following week, even though I think we both know that we won't. We're a dab hand at this now and get our tickets before heading for the bus stop. Once again at the station, we refuel with another toasted sandwich and coffee before heading for the Metro. This is the only time that there is any slight confusion as to where to get off the train. There is a stop, suitably named 'Vaticano' but I know that we want to get off at the stop after that. I stick to my guns when Harry looks at me quizzically and the Vaticano stop passes us by. Whichever metro stop you get off at, you can almost just follow the crowd, and something amazing will be at the head of it. It's hard to tell when you have arrived in the Vatican city, there is no visible border and I felt a bit cheated. I wanted to be halted by the Papal bodyguard at an elaborate entrance and have my passport demanded. Ideally, this would then be stamped with an official Vatican visa, before we were allowed to pass through. I'd even be prepared to pay 10 euros for such a stamp but, it wasn't to be and we just wandered in, oblivious.
The Vatican as a whole is one of those places that is best viewed from on high, St Peters piazza in particular, the columns are so high that you can be forgiven for not looking up! It's impossible to do the Vatican City justice in one day, there's just so much to investigate but, one day is all we have and we decide that St Peters Basilica is a must. Again, it's free to enter, again that means long queues to do so. The queue is slowed down dramatically by the addition of x-ray equipment and scanners as can be found at all airports. The queue is ten people wide and filters down to one person at a time at the x-ray machine, which in turn leads to a nonsensical push and shove at the end of a two hour queue, during which you are left to bake in the mid-day sun. The relief at getting to the other side is such that we actually have a sit down for ten minutes to get our breath back. You really need to sort those queues out Mr Pope! Tickets are bought once you are through and I decided that I would get more from our visit if I paid extra for the audio guide. I was wrong, I couldn't make head nor tail of it but I suspect that it was just me and I'm sure that many people benefit from having it. Once inside, the sheer scale and magnificence of the Basilica does it's best to erase the memory of the people herding outside, and it's a lot cooler, a definite plus! A couple of hours in the queue, and a couple of hours wandering around the Basilica equals, half a day gone. I feel a bit frustrated that we won't get to visit the Sistine chapel or museum but, time waits for no man. One good thing to come from this frustration is the knowledge that we will come back to Rome in the future, better prepared, a little wiser, and maybe even for a month next time, so much is being left undiscovered.
When we exit, I head straight for the postcards and send a card home to my mum, complete with Papal stamp, posted right there in the Vatican City. She'll like that. Once again we head away feeling like we only managed to scratch the surface. The Metro on our return leg is heaving with people, as indeed the bus will be for the second leg of our trip back. It's been standing room only on both for the last four days and the novelty is fading fast. When we get back to the site, there's just enough time to pack all Harrys gear away, ready for his departure the following morning. The plan is for him to bed down on the floor of the van, not ideal but with the taxi arriving at 8.30am, we don't want to take any chances in not being ready. After Harry is bundled in to the taxi at 8.27 precisely, I instruct the driver to 'make sure he leaves the country!' and get straight back in to bed, where I stay until 11am. Lovely.