Vatican treasures and sudden downpours
I woke up at 6:30 this morning, giving myself plenty of time to get ready for my pre-booked 8:30 entry to the Vatican Museums. The hotel breakfast doesn't start until 7:00, so I spent the extra minutes checking the weather forecast. The yellow thunderstorm warning for today made me reconsider my footwear choice – swapping comfortable but fabric sneakers for my more water-resistant boots.
By 7:50, I was walking toward the nearest metro station. The clouds were already gathering overhead, but the rain was still holding off. I arrived at the Vatican Museums entrance at 8:20, ten minutes before my scheduled entry time, and joined the line of similarly punctual visitors.
The security process was efficient, and soon I was inside one of the world's greatest collections of art. I had opted for the audio guide, which proved to be a wise decision given the sheer volume of artwork and historical context.
The museums were already filling with visitors – a mix of tourists and what appeared to be religious pilgrims here for the Jubilee Year. I noticed significantly more security personnel than I remember from previous travels, and the discrete presence of surveillance cameras throughout the museum complex.
The sistine ceiling
Moving through the various galleries, I found myself constantly looking up – at frescoed ceilings, ornate architectural details, and eventually, the masterpiece I had been most anticipating: Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling.
Despite the crowds, standing beneath this monumental work was a profound experience. I spent nearly 40 minutes in the chapel, moving around to view it from different angles, listening to the audio guide's explanation of the various biblical scenes depicted.
What struck me most wasn't just the artistic achievement, but imagining Michelangelo himself – working day after day, year after year, on his back atop scaffolding, creating something that would outlast him by centuries. There's something humbling about standing beneath the work of someone who died nearly 500 years ago, yet whose creation still moves people daily.
When the heavens open
After exploring the museums for nearly three hours, I emerged to find Rome transformed by heavy rainfall. The yellow weather warning had materialized into a proper downpour, complete with occasional thunder. My boots were suddenly the smartest decision I'd made all day.
I ducked into a nearby café, ordered an espresso, and watched the rain through the window. Streets quickly became small rivers, and tourists scurried about with hastily purchased umbrellas from opportunistic vendors.
The coffee was excellent – rich and potent, with that distinctive Italian bitterness that I've come to appreciate over the past month in the country. As I sipped, I scrolled through some of the photos I'd taken in the museums, filtering out the ones worth keeping.
A soggy pilgrimage to st. peter's
Once the rain lightened from 'torrential' to merely 'steady,' I made my way to St. Peter's Square. Even in the rain, the massive colonnade embracing the square was impressive. The line to enter the basilica stretched across the square, with pilgrims and tourists huddled under umbrellas.
I debated joining the queue but decided against it when I heard someone mention the wait was over an hour. Instead, I walked the perimeter of the square, taking in the scale of the place and watching people from all over the world converge on this spiritual center.
Finding shelter and reflection
By 2:00 PM, I was thoroughly damp despite my rain jacket, and decided to return to my hotel to dry off and rest. The metro was crowded with others who had the same idea of escaping the rain.
Now, sitting at the small desk in my hotel room, I'm looking out at the rain-slicked streets of Rome and reflecting on the day so far. There's something fitting about experiencing these ancient treasures and then witnessing the elements that have shaped this city for millennia – the same rain that has fallen on Rome's cobblestones for thousands of years.
I'm on day 98 of my journey, with 402 days still ahead. Almost 100 days of travel has changed me in subtle ways – I'm more patient with disruptions like today's weather, more willing to adjust plans, more present in each moment rather than rushing to see everything.
For the remainder of the day, I plan to stay relatively close to the hotel, perhaps venturing out once the rain subsides to find dinner at a local restaurant. Tomorrow's forecast looks better, which should allow for my planned exploration of the Trastevere neighborhood.
As I watch the rain continue to fall, I wonder about the Olympic torch that will arrive in Rome in just two days. Will the weather clear in time for the ceremonies? Will I happen to catch a glimpse of the relay as it moves through the city? These unexpected intersections with history-in-the-making are part of what makes travel so fascinating – you never know what you might witness.
!A rainy afternoon view from my hotel window in Rome The view from my hotel window – Rome transformed by December rain