Tuesday, December 3, 2024

We Visited A Mausoleum, Prison, Fortress, Pope Hideout, and Museum All In One Stop

After a late lunch at a nice outdoor restaurant not far from the Vatican, we headed back toward the Tiber River to go to Castel Sant'Angelo.  I'm pretty sure, in my other two visits to Rome, that I had not been to Sant'Angelo (as the castle's friends call it), so I especially wanted to go.

It was originally built as a mausoleum for Emperor Hadrian as ancient Rome allowed no tombs within its walls -- not even an emperor's tomb.  So he did the next best thing -- Hadrian had the mausoleum built just across the river just outside the city walls.  A number of Roman emperors were buried in this choice real estate.

It later used as a fortress and a prison.  In 1277 it was connected at the pope's request by an elevated walkway to the Vatican as a fortress for a pope under siege to escape to in order to avoid danger.  

The rooms were decorated as to be fit for a pope, and the pope had to live there in 1527 for numerous long months while Rome was invaded by the troops of Charles V of Spain.  

Visiting the castle means hoofing it up a ramp and stairs until reaching the top.  There are stops along the way, such as a courtyard with a 16th century statue of St. Michael, and then eventually the rooftop terrace with spectacular views of all of Rome, and back to the Vatican.

On the way down, visitors get routed through the pope's rooms (circa 1540), which are elaborately painted on the walls and ceilings by artists from the school of Raphael.     

While my description suggests it is limited, Castel Sant'Angelo is definitely worth visiting.

Selfie from a lookout.  Yes, that's
the Dome of St. Peter's behind us.

Castel Sant-Angelo


Great pic by Maria through
an opening in the castle.

Good shot of St. Peter's.

Carol heading down some
of the many, many stairs.

Me, taking a picture of Maria taking
a picture of me.  Alas, my pic is
lost to history.  Ugh.

After we were done, everyone was exhausted.  We crossed the usually-stunning Ponte Sant'Angelo, the bridge that connects the castle with the east bank of the Tiber (where most of the highlights of Rome are).  The Bernini-designed, Baroque-style statues were all under scaffolding.  Actually, the entire bridge was.  That takes away some all of the grandeur of the bridge.

We crossed into Rome, hoping to stumble into a taxi stand (random taxis don't pick up random people seeking taxis, instead you either call one or go to a taxi stand, a typically Roman policy that doesn't want people have the convenience of flagging down cabs).  We had walked a bit, but the walk to the apartment was deemed as still to far.  So I summoned an Uber.  (Editor: Oh no, I feel a Glen rant coming on!)

(Writer: Who am I to let you down?  So here it is: Why do people say "I called an Uber."  They didn't call anything!  No call was made.  We have to change this misnomer, and it starts with you, dear readers!  From now, say you are "summoning" an Uber -- or whatever the proper tense is for your usage.  Pledge to me you will never say that you are "calling an Uber!")

Anyhow, while Maria and Van were still waiting on their Uber summons to be approved, what turned out to be our large van pulled up.  There were two facing rows of bench seats -- enough for six people.  Our Uber driver freaked out when the five of us tried to occupy five of the six seats (not including his seat or the other seat up front).  "Only four are allowed" he kept shouting.  No amount of logic from me or sweet talking from Carol convinced him to let the five of us ride in his eight passenger van.  "This is a black car!"  Great -- another Roman rule designed to inconvenience people.

It's the first Uber ride I gave the driver less than five stars (two stars, to be fair, we didn't die in an accident -- that would definitely rate just one star) and no tip.  I have to believe I got a one star from our driver, which undoubtedly tarnished my stellar rating (I just checked -- it's down to 4.81).

We got back late afternoon, and we relaxed in the apartment until dinner at nearby Piperno Restaurant.  Opened in 1860, the restaurant is famous for its Jerusalem artichokes, which are quite tasty.  Carol and I had fun annoying Julia with our pronunciation of the restaurant's name.  We have a dog named "Piper" so I quipped that "Piper no!" was something we say a lot.  Julia was trying to be linguistically correct, and noted it was properly pronounced "Pie-Purr-no" instead of like a bag-"piper".  So we kept calling it "Piper No" in attempt to annoy her.  Mission accomplished.

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