great. now I have to learn German.

Those who know me well will be surprised by this title. I confess, I've never liked German. I don't think it's particularly...pleasant sounding. Nor do I believe myself to be alone in this opinion. But driving though the Austrian Alps yesterday, I decided that there could be no better life than to live in a cottage, in a cozy, isolated valley, nestled up in those breathtaking mountains.
This morning I arrived in Rome. I somehow managed to convince a nice guard to let me into the Vatican two hours earlier than my reservation, a huge blessing, or I wouldn't have had enough time. I didn't particularly like most of the Vatican, mostly because I hate large groups of people. I think large groups, like the hundreds of thousands at the Vatican today, magnify the characteristics of human nature that I most despise. Like how everyone believes the rules don't apply to them. I was really disappointed in people in the Sistine Chapel, shamelessly taking flash photos when pictures of any kind were forbidden, and talking when they had been repeatedly reminded that it was a holy place that required silence. Even when the guards shushed them, they blatantly ignored it. I had felt like a herd of cattle as I was jostled about trying to get in there, and the thought occurred to me that it would be just as futile to tell a herd of cattle to be quiet and respectful of a holy place.
But I was highly impressed by the Sistine Chapel itself, and not much art gains that reaction from me. It really did seem like the "tapestries" painted on the wall would rustle in a breeze at any moment, or that the angles on the ceilings would any moment fly down to smite all those stupid cattle-people. Good work, Michaelangelo.
I remember Orrin raving about St. Peter's Basilica in comparison to the churches we visited in Brazil, and it was interesting and beautiful. But I was not as impressed as I was with Prague Castle or with the Sistine Chapel. The Pieta is impressive, but they keep it so far away and behind so much glass. I feel like they do that with most of the things that would be really cool to see. Like the actual hand of St. Steven in his basilica in Budapest. And I always feel like the outside of such buildings is more beautiful than the inside.
But then I got my first (but certainly not last) dose of real, Italian gelato, and it was all I dreamed it could be. And they had banana flavor...I can't wait to get more tomorrow. Robyn's flight was a little delayed, and as I waited for an extra hour by our meeting place, I began to worry. It was then that I met Mike, an old Italian man that spoke English and wanted to talk my ear off about his family, Rome's history and sights to see, etc. And he gave me candy. It occurred to me that I was taking candy from a stranger, but he seemed safe enough. When Robyn came, we got some legit Italian food, and finally got to our hostel. This one is more camping style, the showers are in a different building, some people are in tents or mobile homes. But the evening air is deliciously cool and fragranced by some pleasant white flower whose name I don't know. I really like it here, even though the water comes and goes. For a minute we were in the showers, all soapy, and the water went out. Just as we were weighing our options for getting out, the water came back on, thank goodness! So, good gelato, good company, cool things to see, good hostel, and an unexpected gift. Good day!