III

Onwards. Being Roman Catholic, The Vatican was really what you wanted to see and our ultimate destination for the day.

This is where the fun really starts- I forgot to mention that before we arrived in Rome I’d been very blasé about my knowledge of this city and that I had got around it so many times in the past that we’d have no problem this time round. Well bugger me- I got that wrong. I’d forgotten which buses went where and how. The tourist information, signage and directions in Italy in general are quite frankly, erm … shit. Not useful at all. Neither of us could make head nor tail of what the hell direction we should find the right bus across the river to Vatican City. We hummed and harred, asked a couple of people. Looked at several bus stop signs and tried to gauge – ah yes. It’s this stop and the Number 64. Ok so we queued at the stop.  By now the temperature had reached 38 degrees and we were starting to wilt and get slightly frazzled. But as usual, you took it all in good grace.

Next to the queue of people beside us was a street vender who started shouting at the top of his voice ‘Watter,watter.watter,watter,watter,watter!’ Took a deep breath and continued, ‘‘Watter,watter.watter,watter,watter,watter! One Euro!’ Like a demented duck. We couldn’t stop giggling when we realised he was waving bottles of water around trying to sell them. Then it started all over again. Oh my God. Bus after bus after bus after bus kept arriving at the stop but not the one we needed. Time was pressing on and I didn’t want you to miss the Vatican. To say I was getting peeved would be an understatement. What with the ‘waternator’ shouting and the heat I started to get a bit pissed off. Another 15 mins – no bus. So we walked. We could have been there already if we had just walked the mile or so in the first place!

As we headed across the St Angelo Bridge with its magnificent statues spanning the River Tiber, we talked about the Vatican Prison (The Castel Sant’ Angelo) and the gruesome things Holy men have done to others in the name of God. Paused a few times at the market stalls on the road next to the castle and eventually headed towards St Peters Basilica. At the bottom of the long avenue leading up to St Peters Square we could see the Basilica in the distance. I quite clearly remember you saying,

‘Fucking Hell, It’s enormous!’ making me laugh.

We couldn’t even see it all yet. But there is no mistaking that huge, white Catholic dome rising so high into the sky. It was so hot now we had to walk really quickly, we were actually feeling our skin to burn now. We hustled like a pair of thieves up the drive keeping to the shadows where we could. Then at last we were there. A quick cigarette in the shade and admired the Square. Boy do Roman Catholics go in for size! You can’t even imagine the scale of what you’re looking at! Now we had eventually got here, there was a massive queue to get in. Determined not to be put off we join it and patiently waited as it surprisingly and swiftly moved through. It was quite late by now, we wouldn’t have long to look around as the sods were closing earlier today at 5pm. Shit!

We decide that the trek up to the top of the Copula, to catch the breath taking view across all of Rome, would have to wait for another visit. So we headed into the main Basilica with the thousands of others. Well, I’ll always remember the look on your face when you saw what was inside. Always the cool one you- but I could still tell you were dazzled and amazed by the sheer size and presence of it all. The largest unreinforced 2000 year old dome at the Pantheon really loses some of its awe when you look up into the massive Dome of St Peters! Again your camera was everywhere. I couldn’t help smiling broadly when I understood that in your understated and almost nonchalant manner, you really had been blown away.

Before we had more time to see and chat about the things in this place, the docents were unceremoniously chucking us all out- except the service that had already started in one of the side chapels of course. We reluctantly left through the 40 foot bronzed doors and we headed to the gift shop. There we mooched over a gift for your Grandmother, eventually settling on a new Rosary for her. We picked out the most beautiful one you thought she’d like which made me reflect on how wonderfully sweet you can really be. Eventually we tore ourselves away from the square while snatching a couple of pictures of the highly dressed and austere Swiss Guards, standing quiet and steadfast guard over the most revered place of worship in all of Christendom.

Completely knackered and hungry by now and the sun still too warm, we sat at that restaurant just down the road from the Vatican and had the most expensive late lunch we ever have had yet. Certainly no Nandos! Talk about taking the piss out of the tourists-but we decided to linger contented and enjoy the sun as it started to cool.

We struggled at the bus stop yet again, which was the bus back across the river? We had  decided to stop at another of the most famous of landmarks- to see the setting suns golden glow, flow down The Spanish Steps. After a bit of toing and froing, we found our way there- only to find that The Steps were actually condoned off for repairs and cleaning- so we couldn’t take that romantic stroll down them chasing the sun step by step after all. Oh fuckery again!

When we had eventually found our way down we stopped for a breath and a brief cigarette sitting next to the Bernini Fountain of ‘The Old Boat’ at the bottom of the steps. Then strolled down the Via dei Condotti. with all the best designer shops in all of Italy- Tiffany, Cartier, Armani, Jimmy Choo, Boss, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Goldani, Cavalier just to name a few. Stopping now and again, window shopping and picking out the bits and pieces that would be nice to have. We rarely show much affection in public, but it was so naturally comfortable for us to entwine our fingers now and again as we walked and stole the odd soft, sweet kiss as we talked, when we thought no-one was paying us much attention. The red sun had set and gone down by now, leaving a perspiring and balmy evening in its wake. So we stopped, when wearied and sat outside a Gelateria a stones’ throw from Piazza Polpollo, for some sickly rich ice cream and welcome cool beer. As the swarthy breeze and human bustle floated around us, we chatted and laughed about the hap hazard day and you told me about the things you liked the most about it. You said you’d like to come back again (better organised mind you) and spend more time in Rome. You said you loved it. Which chuffed me no end. I replied that would be great and if you liked Rome, you’d love Venice!

As for the three coins I threw into the Trevi Fountain for us that day? It’s sad I never did get to tell you why I had clutched them so tightly, whispered a silent prayer and thrown that specific number into the clear water. Well. As legend would have it, you throw one in to be certain to return to Rome. A second, for the blessing of a truly beautiful Romance- which we certainly had. The third, well the third coin is for the hope of a long and happy marriage.