Our final day in the Eternal City we have another of our popular death marches planned. In the morning, a three hour guided tour of the highlights of Ancient Rome, and in the afternoon a trip to the Vatican Museums and St. Peter’s Basilica. As we gather around our charming and beautiful tour guide Emanuella, looming behind us is the Colosseum, famed throughout the world as a symbol of Roman decadence, with bloody gladiatorial contests, wild animals and mock naval battles.
Except it’s not the Colosseum, or at least wasn’t to the Romans; to them it was the Flavian Amphitheater; the name Colosseum  came into common use much later after the fall of the Roman Empire, and was so named due to a huge bronze statue that stood outside the main entrance.  It served as a source of building materials for later structures, including the fountains of modern Rome.

Name notwithstanding, we enter the Colosseum  and see the “skeleton” of the Flavian Amphitheater stripped of its statues, marble fascia and elaborate awnings that kept the sun off the 80,000 Romans as they enjoyed the slaughter. Mornings were for animals: with exotic species such as lions, tigers from India, bears from Germania and crocodiles from the Nile as the featured victims. At lunchtime criminals were executed, and finally in the afternoon the gladiators had their turn. Most gladiators were not killed, however, as they were highly trained and quite valuable. If they were given the thumbs down by the emperor he was expected to reimburse their trainer for his loss.
After our short tour of the Coliseum we went out, crossed the street and entered the forum. This is the main area of Ancient Rome, where merchants bought and sold, the senate met, and temples to the various gods stood. What remains are scattered columns, the substrata of old roads and former temples converted to churches. A temple to Julius Caesar has been reconstructed, which was erected after his ascension to godhood courtesy of his appointed heir Augustus.

Our tour of the Forum meandered through the ruins, and then out into the city. The column of Marcus Aurelius with its detailed depictions of his Military conquests against the Germanic tribes during the “Marcomannic wars” is minutely detailed. At the top of the column where Marcus Aurelius formerly stood looking toward the forum now stands St. Paul, gazing toward the Vatican. The Pantheon of the gods, the oldest domed building in the world, with its striking oculus at the top, is now a church, and the famous painter Boticelli is buried there along with some Popes.

After pointing out a few likely places for lunch, espresso or gelato, and passing the Trevi Fountain which is under renovation, we end our tour at the Piazza Navona, with its three fountains, including the central fountain by Bernini called the “Fontana die Quattro Fiume ” or Fountain of the Four Rivers. The temperature is now into the mid nineties, so we find a likely spot for lunch that features air conditioning on the menu and cool off.

Next on the agenda is the Vatican. And we are not alone today. It appears that everyone in Rome has the same idea to escape the oppressive heat by going to the museum. It feels like we are washed into a river of humanity as a continuous flow of people enters the museum, passes countless busts of ancient Romans, fine tapestries, frescoes and maps, muraled walls and ceilings, paintings by old masters of enormous skill (and size). This human torrent has one destination, and we are swept along with no hope of rescue toward the Sistine Chapel and the ceilings by Michelangelo.

As we enter the Chapel the crowd is forced through a narrow set of doors watched over by menacing guards (though fortunately not the Swiss Guards with their long pikes- things might turn bloody on a day like this). “Be quiet” they say. “No pictures” they say. “Keep moving” they say.
I snap an illicit picture of the ceiling as I move rapidly toward the door so I can see what it looked like at my leisure. I am out of the Chapel. I am able to breath as large portions of the crowd enter the adjacent gift shop – no doubt to get postcards of that ceiling for the same reason I took my photo. This was the worst museum visit of my life.

The day is rescued by a short trip into St. Peter’s  Basilica, for a viewing of Michelangelo’s true masterpiece ‘The Pieta’; Even behind the bulletproof glass, surrounded by crowds of goofballs with selfie sticks it is a moving sculpture, and puts his cartoonish ceiling in the Sistine Chapel to shame; he was a great artist without question, but his métier was stone, not paint.
Exiting the Basilica into the eternal heat of the Roman afternoon I find a nearby fountain and quench my thirst. I need the water, but I’m also hoping for another miracle here at the Vatican. Prayers answered we find a cabbie driving a very small vehicle who insists he can fit all seven of us inside. Miraculously he is correct, saving us €8.00 for a second cab or a long hot walk back to the apartment at the Piazza dei Mercanti.

After a brief rest at home we cross the street for an early dinner. Tomorrow we pack and set off for home, except for Sam and Matt, who being jobless have the luxury of further European travel along the Adriatic coast for two more weeks before a flight home from Greece. It’s been quite a trip.
Further thoughts and observations to follow as I wind things up.