The Real Housewives of New Jersey

Rome has been a trend setter for years, dating to the Ancient times, a style that can still be seen at any keg party, to the runways, where Prada, Louis Vuitton and Gucci all make their homes. But despite all of their fashion success, they still find time to watch a little reality TV; how else to explain the big hair, curls and over done make-up made famous by Bravo?

Yes, the 80s look that died everywhere but North Jersey also rages on in Rome, and not with much success. The accents are different, but the attitude is the same; as the Parisians were passively aggressively rude, the Romans did not attempt to hide it. As Maggie and I fumbled through our final language barrier, there were an uncountable number of rolled eyes, “Whatsamattayous” and those infamous, impatient arm gestures that translate directly into English.

Rome had the unfortunate circumstance of being our last stop, and by that point, Maggie and I had begun to tire from a life on the road. The consistent traveling, strange beds and foreign roommates by this point had begun to wear on us, and Rome’s oppressive humidity did not help matters. Undeterred, we were determined to set out and make the most of our last stop, to soak in the Catholicism that floats over the river from Vatican City and the ancient stench that comes from years of history and not the heaping trash on the street corners.

The lines to enter the Vatican Museums, a collection of never ending art that Popes have - ahem - acquired, were supposed to be among the longest in Europe, so Maggie and I arrived at 8 a.m., one half-hour before the doors opened. The line stretched around the block, but once the doors opened, it began to move. As we crept toward the door, a group of four people, two women and two men, appeared at our right hand side. The acted as they belonged, jabbering on in Italian, laughing and having a grand time, but they clearly had cut the line. The group behind them began to fuss, and in stead of giving way, the man turned around, shoved a few pieces of colorful paper into the man’s front pocket, laughed it off, and turned back around. Tony Soprano would have been proud.

Once inside, we were faced with one of the most impressive collections of ancient Egyptian artifacts, including an actual mummified woman dating from the 1st century B.C., never ending hallways of marble statues, breathtaking frescoes and of course, the world famous Sistine Chapel. It would seem that some Popes spent their entire Pontificate attempting to acquire world treasures as opposed to saving the souls of the world, but judging by the throngs of tourists and never ending tour groups that muscled their way past us time and again, no one seemed to mind.

While the museums were impressive, Maggie and I were a little disappointed to learn we did not need to see them in order to enter St. Peter’s Square and the Basilica; at this point, marble statues and frescoed ceilings had become a bit run of the mill, even if these were the most famous in the world. We had journeyed to Vatican City to visit one of the holiest places of the world, not to merely gawk at more art.

The Basilica of St. Peter’s was truly, truly breathtaking. Aside from its gargantuan size, its sheer beauty would humble even the most staunch atheists. The famed Pieta greets you as you enter the Basilica, and the beauty of Jesus’ mother as she holds her lifeless son’s body is awe-inspiring, but her forlorn expression makes it impossible to rip your eyes away from the marble sculpture. Michelangelo not only articulated the pain of Mary, but of all mother’s who have been forced to bury their sons, or have seen their children through hard times. It is a powerful religious symbol, but also a testament to the role women play in the lives of their sons, the nurturing that never dies, and the love that sees us to the end.

We also traveled to the crypt, to see the final resting place of Karol Wojtyla, known to the world as John Paul II. The beautiful, understated marble stone lies just feet from the entrance to the tomb where it is believed that the Apostle Peter, the first Pope of the Church, is buried, a fitting place for one of the finest men to ever reign should enjoy his well-earned eternal sleep. After traveling through the Eastern Bloc, visiting his old home in Krakow and seeing the scars that Communism left, it was a moving experience to visit the man who played such a large role in not only breaking down the Communism power, but for instilling hope and keeping the faith of the persecuted people who used it to overcome their dictators. Surrounded by ornate sarcophaguses and monumental tombs, John Paul’s simple stone lightly adorned by golden roses was one of the most beautiful in the entire tomb, which housed approximately 30 other former Popes.

After a day at the Vatican, we turned our attention to the other great draw of Rome, the remains of the last great ancient power of the world. The Colosseum still dominates downtown, even though more than half of it has crumbled. The Roman Forum stretches from the Colosseum north, and its Via Sacra still houses 2500 year old pagan cathedrals guarded by original doors and locks and keys. The ancient city remains impressive to this day, a testament to the ingenuity of the Roman people and their wealth and power. Upon learning that so much still survived, like a 2500 year old key, I was curious how so many walls had crumbled and statues gone missing. The answer? Well that beautiful square in Vatican City had to be built somehow, so the Popes of the Renaissance ordered the marble statues of the Colosseum to be melted down, the concrete to be “recycled” and the mosaic floors to be removed. See, the Colosseum was designed to withstand earthquakes, and it was built so well that the present day metro runs right below it. The Romans placed leaden blocks in between the concrete bricks to withstand the shocks of earthquakes and to make the walls more pliable, so they could move and shift without succumbing and falling over. But the Roman people knew this, and during the Middle Ages, when they were short on supplies, they dug into the walls of the Colosseum and mined out the lead, causing the building to crumble. Today, you can still see the holes in the walls where the lead was pulled out. So, as the tour guides are fond of saying, if not for the Romans, Rome would still flourish today.

A beautiful city with three different generations of power, the ancient Romans, Vatican City and the present day, still visible and vibrant, Rome is a must-see for any visitor. However, travel weariness, oppressive humidity and throngs of tourists made it a tough stop for Maggie and I. With a week past and some appreciation for the entire trip beginning to settle in, I will attempt to recap our entire trip, and pass along some advice for future travelers to the home of our ancestors. Ciao!