A view, adieu, a door

We may be ageing but we remain young enough to save €2 by walking the entire 520 steps up the dome at St Peter's, rather than getting a lift to about half-way. The stairs were less cramped than the duomo we climbed at Florence last year, though the final stages had some Dali-esque vertical curves. The view—well worth the climb, not least to see “Jesus and the boys” (as I liked to call them) up close.

When early Christians in Rome bid farewell to this life (often with assistance, unfortunately) they were often buried in the catacombs. After a series of missed bus connections and stops we finally found ourselves there, just in time for the complementary tour. It was advertised as being in English, but was in fact delivered in Australian, by a friendly if perhaps somewhat under-informed priest. We walked only a tiny fraction of the 20kms of tunnels but were able to see first century inscriptions on marble coverings of the wall alcoves that contained the bodies. Five hundred thousand Christians are buried there.

At our next destination, had we had to use the front door we might not have entered at all. From the other side though the building is far less imposing. We heard singing. A peek—some priests. We hung back, but another couple entered unopposed. We stepped in. We found that we were right at the front of the church. A couple of hundred priests, singing. Hmm, Saturday evening—we'd seen a conference was starting tomorrow—a practice, perhaps? A Cardinal spotted—a row of Cardinals? Liturgy in Italian—a voluminous response. Step around a pillar. Hundreds in the congregation... hundreds... Further investigations revealed this was an ordination service, that this basilica was indeed the official seat of the Pope in Rome, not St Peter's (his “local"). We sat for a time, then slipped out. Meanwhile, while their bodies lie elsewhere, the heads of St Peter and St Paul remain in this church. May they rest in peace.