Ego Ambulate Vulgi

DearReader,

Wednesday after Classes found me off to the Vatican to buy some stamps,Benedict XVI P.M.,  Benedict XVI P.E., the Sede vacante editions, or at least, what little they had left. However, I was quitedepressed about the prices, especially when it is concerning me and my lack offinances to indulge in snail mail. When I first arrived here in Rome, it wouldhave cost me €1.00, at least for a postcard stamp to Australia, against thecurrent price of €2.20. Now I understand that of course, it must be because ofthe price of inflation, but really? At least it reflects the Italian statesprice also.

These sad things aside, I shall relate the journey from University, kept ingood company, towards The Holy See, where the throne of the principle of theapostles lies bare and stone cold.

So after finishing a class with patristics and moral theology, we left fromlargo Angelicum, and down the stairs to the forum of Trajan, built during thegolden age of the empire.  We crossed the piazza Venezia with the giantmonolith that is the Victor Emmanuel monument off to our right, what little sunthat is shining through the clouds reflecting off the white marble.  Andwe were down the Corso of the same name. Continuing along this vein of thecity, we pass the Gesú, Chiesa Nouva and Sant'Andrea della Valle, but not inthat order of course, because that would be too much walking. Continuing acrossthe Ponte (Bridge) Vittorio Emanuele II, we stopped to glance across the poorand dirty Tiber to look upon greatest dome in the world. That humble cross, confrontingyou from the pinnacle or the orb that is surmounts.  This dome hasthe ability to be seen from at least 19 ½ kms away! After recollectingourselves, we completed the crossing of the bridge, walked down to the Vaticanpost office and purchased the stamps.

Atleast, that’s what should have happened. Due to the wet conditions, we decideit was optimal to head home. That would take us straight Via Nazionale to themetro station Reppublica. Oh the sights and smells that I recall. The firstthing I said to my friend when we got on the #64 bus was “FEET”. We sort oflooked at each other and laughed rather loudly as I had said what we were boththinking. The wet dog smell had also made its way onto the bus, but, seeingmore people than dogs on the bus, I guess my nose had failed meand  assumed the worst. After being released from that little crowdedpurgatory, my nose had a great, albeit a brief, relief from the foul smellsthat somehow made their way to my nose. 

Westopped, why I don’t know, outside of one of the restaurants, and boy-oh-boy,my senses tingled at the delight of the ‘profumo piacevole’. The glee, for wantof a better word, that I felt brought back to me the smell of the coffee house(Ah, Coffee! *SNIFF*) at Piazza Sant’Eustachio, just a stone’s throw from thePantheon and all the other smells of the area. Good friends, fun moments, heavymeals, and even in a weird way my mother’s cooking. Is this how a dog mustfeel? Enjoying such a keen sense of smell? So I got off the metro after a shorttrip to my stop, and boarded the train. The first carriage is the best for meas it opens on the stair and I can get home that little bit quicker. It is alsoa popular spot for the gypsies. Now they are some interesting smells that are quite like....another blog perhaps?

 

ValeAmicus, till next time.

P.S. I am off to Mass tomorrow morning in St. Peter's Basilica at the Altar of the Transfiguration. You are in my prayers. God bless you.