There
is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower,
you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as
passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved
from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you will still get the
same soaking. This understanding extends to everything
The Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II (National Monument to
Victor Emmanuel II) or Altare della
Patria (Altar of the Motherland) is a monument built to honour Victor
Emmanuel, the first king of a unified Italy, located in Rome, Italy.
It was raining on day 3 as we
perambulated around Rome with our brollies, we would not be put off by a little
rain, we thought. By the time we arrived at the Victor Emmanuel monument it was
raining heavily. After posing for a photo on the steps in front of the Eternal
Flame (which burns in memory of the unknown soldiers who died during the Great
War) some of needed to find a toilet. Kyle, Roarke, Ariél and I braved the
pouring rain, while Sarah, Tom and Gina went into the church.
The church is as magnificent
as all the catholic Churches in Rome. Kyle and I wandered up to the altar and
each lit candle, saying a little prayer. Part of prayer involved being shown a
‘sign’. As I looked up I saw a bright
blue window with three yellow bees. The day before just as we were entering the
cupola walk, we had come across a lone bee relief sculpture at the entrance*
Outside the church we walked
down some really slippery stairs and then came across an “Assassins Creed
Statue” so had to take a picture.
By the time we reached the
forum we were rather soaked. The ruins inspire contemplation of bygone
centuries…
The coliseum dwarfed the
enormous Christmas which stood smugly proclaiming a Christian celebration
dating back to pagan times, with an ancient, wise superiority. A ‘gladiator’
chatted to Sarah and when he heard she was from South Africa, he exclaimed
“Bafana Bafana!”
We took the Metro up to the
capuchin crypts. We realised how fortunate we are to have the beautifully clean
underground that we do in England! As we alighted from the train at our stop,
three youths (!) shouted “Ciao Rossa!” to our red-haired Sarah.
The capuchin crypts which contain
the skeletal remains of 4000 bodies believed to be Capuchin friars buried by
their order. The Catholic order insists that the display is not meant to be
macabre, but a silent reminder of the swift passage of life on Earth. I was
superficially interested in the bones, until we reached the second last crypt
which had a coat-of-arms… Suddenly my stomach lurched and I felt an overwhelming
nausea take hold of me, I was repulsed and needed to get out in a hurry. I am
not sure why…
*See next blog post
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