Day 14 – Monday 6th June 2011
I woke up this morning feeling much better. Still, I had some more rehydration salts just to be safe. The plan for the day: Vatican City, more sights of Rome, drop in at the train station to buy a ticket to Bari and get back to the campsite before dark. Simple. And if I could find somewhere to buy a stamp to send some postcards home, all the better.
Staying at the campsite 2 nights means I can have a nice lightweight bike: just the 2 panniers for a few tools, a jumper, a pair of trousers and some water; and the handlebar bag which I always have with me, containing all my money, passport, maps, this diary, a bit of food and all the important bog roll for nature’s unexpected call.
So I zip into Rome. I can remember the way, even though it was dark last night, and I make sure I can find the easy way back to the campsite tonight... no detours onto autoroute this time. As I follow the road in, I become aware of a large wall on my right, lined with CCTV cameras. I know what that is: that’s the wall of the Vatican. Again, films shoot to mind: The Da Vinci Code (and Angels and Demons, which was more entertaining as a film, in my opinion... but that’s by the by); Hudson Hawk; Mission: Impossible III to name a few. It’s in Mission: Impossible III where they decide to break into the Vatican City by causing a traffic jam as Tom Cruise’s character scales the wall and carefully subverts the CCTV camera. I figured it’d be fun to try to find that stretch of road, so I cycled all the way around. It’s been a while since I saw the film, but I took a photo of where I think that scene took place... I’ll find out if I was right when I get back!
Anyway, enough faff, time was getting on. I headed over to Piazza San Pietro again. There were a few more people than last night! There was also an exhibition about Pope John Paul II, free entry, so I took a nosey. It was in Italian, Polish and English, so it was a bit of a game to find the parts I could read. But it gets me thinking...
You see, I wasn’t brought up as a Roman Catholic. My parents are Christians, so I was used to going to church, but it was more lively than the established church – one that sprung up out of the charismatic movement. I made some sort of commitment when I was 7 or 8 and was baptised, but it was when I was 18 that it all became so much more real and it was clear that there had to be more than just the material world around us.
Anyway, growing up in these charismatic churches and even being a part of an Anglican church whilst at university, it was clear that there was a Catholic/non-Catholic rift. The unspoken notion was/is that Catholics are essentially heretics because they have extra books in their Bibles and they worship Mary, Jesus’ mother. In any case, they certainly were not Christians. (Although a few people would agree that there are probably a few “true” Christians within the Catholic Church.) But a couple of years ago I thought about what the defining factor is of “true” Christianity, and why these other “sects” were so obviously (?) wrong and had to be treated so harshly. And I think that “defining factor” is having a faith in Jesus as God’s Messiah, and living that faith.
But we can’t judge the level of someone’s faith: some people find it easy to live out and their lives are full of good works; other people find it such a struggle to do just one good deed... but it doesn’t mean their faith isn’t real.
And from looking around this exhibition and reading some of the things Pope John Paul II said, I ask why: why isn’t his faith real? He says that his desire is for the young people – the next generation – to spread the message “that only in the death and resurrection of Christ can we find salvation and redemption.”
You see, I think God is bigger than those “true” Christians make out. I think the view that, “You must do this and this and this to be saved and your life must look like that to be a real Christian,” is just too narrow. It places burdens on people that not everyone can carry. And that’s just it: Jesus says that his burden is light. I think those “true” Christians will be surprised (maybe even shocked) when they find out just who God has accepted... and how many.
Enough preaching. The rest of the Vatican was beautiful. The sheer craftsmanship that has gone into it is astounding! I saw a couple of people head down a fairly covert stairwell, so I followed them into some sacred underground grotto. When I got out, I found a way (for €5) to get to the cupola right at the top of St Peter’s Basilica (they reckoned it was 518 steps, but I only counted 396...). Lots of photos were taken. Stunning.
I get back to Ol’ Betsy, still padlocked to one of the posts. (I’m dragging this padlock around and this is only the second time I’ve used it... the first was when I wild camped the night before cycling the Grand-St-Bernard, just in case!) It’s 4pm and I’d not really had any lunch so I headed off for a something to eat. I found a little restaurant in a backstreet... too expensive, so I moved on.
Pizza for €5? (Or rather, pizza with vegetables for €6!) Much better, so I stop and have a sit down. In France you get a basket of bread free with the meal, so when the waiter brought me some, I thought it was a nice touch... I didn’t realise he was going to charge me €2 for it! Plus, these places make a packet on the drinks: a 500ml bottle of coke can cost €0.99 in a supermarket; in a restaurant, a 300ml can of coke can cost up to €6!! That’s daylight robbery in my opinion!
I figured it was best to head to the station to sort out tomorrow’s train tickets before they shut for the night. Up until now, it had been a fantastic day. Little did I know...
I spent about an hour and a half waiting in this queue and end up with a grumpy old man serving me who gets irritated by my bad Italian. “I’m after a train ticket from Rome to Bari with a bicycle.” He eventually puts it in the computer and says, “Not possible.” Marvellous. I try again and find that he’s looking at routes using fast trains. I already know that fast trains don’t allow bicycles. “What about Regional trains?” Tap, tap, tap at his computer...
“Regional trains not go to Bari. Not possible with bicycle.” Then he gives up trying. Great. I see no other option but to do what I hate... “Is there someone else who speaks better English?” I know I shouldn’t be in someone else’s country and demand they speak my language, but he gave up trying to communicate, just sitting back, hands behind his head, repeating, “Not possible. Not possible,” until I went away. The guy next to him became free so I moved over. They can’t believe I’ve just done that and it sounds like they’re having an argument in Italian. Oh well... this guy understands me better and actually tries looking. He says I can’t go direct to Bari... well, I’m glad we got that out of the way fast. I ask about the Regional trains. He says that would involve many changes. Ok... but he says he can’t do it from here. Grrr...
He writes out the time and price for a train to Benevento, about half-way to Bari, in the middle of the mountains, but won’t find out if I can get from Benevento to Bari. I don’t wish to be stuck in the mountains! He’s getting impatient, it’s 9.40pm and I want to get back to the campsite. I’ll sort something out in the morning.
I headed back towards the Vatican, crossing the river, thinking, “If I step on it, I could be back by 10.15pm.” No sooner had I thought that than I turn a corner and think, “Ol’ Betsy’s back wheel doesn’t feel too good.” Another puncture. And it’s late.
Well, the tyre was not completely soft, so maybe I could get away with putting some air in and sorting it out properly tomorrow. 5 minutes later I was on the road again, turned a corner and Ol’ Betsy’s saying, “No way!”
I decided to take out that inner tube that got the puncture in Pisa, fix that and swap them over. Repair kit glue went everywhere – it hadn’t been used in over a year. I hate doing puncture repairs, but a few quid for a new tube each time gets a little costly.
15 minutes later and all seemed to be well. I pump up the tyre (with a tiny pump... which is great for travelling because it doesn’t take up too much space, but pumping up tyres takes a while...) then suddenly... Pssssss!! It sounded like the valve had gone. I didn’t care. I was fed up now. It was late. I wanted to sleep. So I rode back to the campsite, about 2 and a half miles, on a flat back wheel. It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last.
I got back at 10.50pm. The campsite’s supermarket closes at 11pm so I dove in for a tin of expensive Ravioli, something to drink and the postage stamps I hadn’t managed to get during the day. At least the postcards got sent.
Time for bed, a lie in and taking tomorrow easy.
Stats
Mileage = 19.25 miles
Riding time = 2 hours 26 minutes
Average speed = 7.8 mph
Top speed = 27.3 mph
Total mileage since start = 748.6
I woke up this morning feeling much better. Still, I had some more rehydration salts just to be safe. The plan for the day: Vatican City, more sights of Rome, drop in at the train station to buy a ticket to Bari and get back to the campsite before dark. Simple. And if I could find somewhere to buy a stamp to send some postcards home, all the better.
Staying at the campsite 2 nights means I can have a nice lightweight bike: just the 2 panniers for a few tools, a jumper, a pair of trousers and some water; and the handlebar bag which I always have with me, containing all my money, passport, maps, this diary, a bit of food and all the important bog roll for nature’s unexpected call.So I zip into Rome. I can remember the way, even though it was dark last night, and I make sure I can find the easy way back to the campsite tonight... no detours onto autoroute this time. As I follow the road in, I become aware of a large wall on my right, lined with CCTV cameras. I know what that is: that’s the wall of the Vatican. Again, films shoot to mind: The Da Vinci Code (and Angels and Demons, which was more entertaining as a film, in my opinion... but that’s by the by); Hudson Hawk; Mission: Impossible III to name a few. It’s in Mission: Impossible III where they decide to break into the Vatican City by causing a traffic jam as Tom Cruise’s character scales the wall and carefully subverts the CCTV camera. I figured it’d be fun to try to find that stretch of road, so I cycled all the way around. It’s been a while since I saw the film, but I took a photo of where I think that scene took place... I’ll find out if I was right when I get back!
Anyway, enough faff, time was getting on. I headed over to Piazza San Pietro again. There were a few more people than last night! There was also an exhibition about Pope John Paul II, free entry, so I took a nosey. It was in Italian, Polish and English, so it was a bit of a game to find the parts I could read. But it gets me thinking...You see, I wasn’t brought up as a Roman Catholic. My parents are Christians, so I was used to going to church, but it was more lively than the established church – one that sprung up out of the charismatic movement. I made some sort of commitment when I was 7 or 8 and was baptised, but it was when I was 18 that it all became so much more real and it was clear that there had to be more than just the material world around us.
Anyway, growing up in these charismatic churches and even being a part of an Anglican church whilst at university, it was clear that there was a Catholic/non-Catholic rift. The unspoken notion was/is that Catholics are essentially heretics because they have extra books in their Bibles and they worship Mary, Jesus’ mother. In any case, they certainly were not Christians. (Although a few people would agree that there are probably a few “true” Christians within the Catholic Church.) But a couple of years ago I thought about what the defining factor is of “true” Christianity, and why these other “sects” were so obviously (?) wrong and had to be treated so harshly. And I think that “defining factor” is having a faith in Jesus as God’s Messiah, and living that faith.But we can’t judge the level of someone’s faith: some people find it easy to live out and their lives are full of good works; other people find it such a struggle to do just one good deed... but it doesn’t mean their faith isn’t real.
And from looking around this exhibition and reading some of the things Pope John Paul II said, I ask why: why isn’t his faith real? He says that his desire is for the young people – the next generation – to spread the message “that only in the death and resurrection of Christ can we find salvation and redemption.”
You see, I think God is bigger than those “true” Christians make out. I think the view that, “You must do this and this and this to be saved and your life must look like that to be a real Christian,” is just too narrow. It places burdens on people that not everyone can carry. And that’s just it: Jesus says that his burden is light. I think those “true” Christians will be surprised (maybe even shocked) when they find out just who God has accepted... and how many.Enough preaching. The rest of the Vatican was beautiful. The sheer craftsmanship that has gone into it is astounding! I saw a couple of people head down a fairly covert stairwell, so I followed them into some sacred underground grotto. When I got out, I found a way (for €5) to get to the cupola right at the top of St Peter’s Basilica (they reckoned it was 518 steps, but I only counted 396...). Lots of photos were taken. Stunning.
I get back to Ol’ Betsy, still padlocked to one of the posts. (I’m dragging this padlock around and this is only the second time I’ve used it... the first was when I wild camped the night before cycling the Grand-St-Bernard, just in case!) It’s 4pm and I’d not really had any lunch so I headed off for a something to eat. I found a little restaurant in a backstreet... too expensive, so I moved on.
Pizza for €5? (Or rather, pizza with vegetables for €6!) Much better, so I stop and have a sit down. In France you get a basket of bread free with the meal, so when the waiter brought me some, I thought it was a nice touch... I didn’t realise he was going to charge me €2 for it! Plus, these places make a packet on the drinks: a 500ml bottle of coke can cost €0.99 in a supermarket; in a restaurant, a 300ml can of coke can cost up to €6!! That’s daylight robbery in my opinion!I figured it was best to head to the station to sort out tomorrow’s train tickets before they shut for the night. Up until now, it had been a fantastic day. Little did I know...
I spent about an hour and a half waiting in this queue and end up with a grumpy old man serving me who gets irritated by my bad Italian. “I’m after a train ticket from Rome to Bari with a bicycle.” He eventually puts it in the computer and says, “Not possible.” Marvellous. I try again and find that he’s looking at routes using fast trains. I already know that fast trains don’t allow bicycles. “What about Regional trains?” Tap, tap, tap at his computer...
“Regional trains not go to Bari. Not possible with bicycle.” Then he gives up trying. Great. I see no other option but to do what I hate... “Is there someone else who speaks better English?” I know I shouldn’t be in someone else’s country and demand they speak my language, but he gave up trying to communicate, just sitting back, hands behind his head, repeating, “Not possible. Not possible,” until I went away. The guy next to him became free so I moved over. They can’t believe I’ve just done that and it sounds like they’re having an argument in Italian. Oh well... this guy understands me better and actually tries looking. He says I can’t go direct to Bari... well, I’m glad we got that out of the way fast. I ask about the Regional trains. He says that would involve many changes. Ok... but he says he can’t do it from here. Grrr...He writes out the time and price for a train to Benevento, about half-way to Bari, in the middle of the mountains, but won’t find out if I can get from Benevento to Bari. I don’t wish to be stuck in the mountains! He’s getting impatient, it’s 9.40pm and I want to get back to the campsite. I’ll sort something out in the morning.
I headed back towards the Vatican, crossing the river, thinking, “If I step on it, I could be back by 10.15pm.” No sooner had I thought that than I turn a corner and think, “Ol’ Betsy’s back wheel doesn’t feel too good.” Another puncture. And it’s late.
Well, the tyre was not completely soft, so maybe I could get away with putting some air in and sorting it out properly tomorrow. 5 minutes later I was on the road again, turned a corner and Ol’ Betsy’s saying, “No way!”
I decided to take out that inner tube that got the puncture in Pisa, fix that and swap them over. Repair kit glue went everywhere – it hadn’t been used in over a year. I hate doing puncture repairs, but a few quid for a new tube each time gets a little costly.
15 minutes later and all seemed to be well. I pump up the tyre (with a tiny pump... which is great for travelling because it doesn’t take up too much space, but pumping up tyres takes a while...) then suddenly... Pssssss!! It sounded like the valve had gone. I didn’t care. I was fed up now. It was late. I wanted to sleep. So I rode back to the campsite, about 2 and a half miles, on a flat back wheel. It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last.
I got back at 10.50pm. The campsite’s supermarket closes at 11pm so I dove in for a tin of expensive Ravioli, something to drink and the postage stamps I hadn’t managed to get during the day. At least the postcards got sent.
Time for bed, a lie in and taking tomorrow easy.
Stats
Mileage = 19.25 miles
Riding time = 2 hours 26 minutes
Average speed = 7.8 mph
Top speed = 27.3 mph
Total mileage since start = 748.6
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