PAPAL ATTRACTION

The Vatican was the big one… I was in a mission to meet Pope Palpatine and learn the ways of the dark side of the force. I was sure to meet him somewhere along the corridors of the Vatican Museum, possibly in his bath-towel on his way to switch the heating on or something like that – somewhat affronted and surprised by my cry of “Hey Benny!”, almost choking on his Vatican Cocoa from his Vatican mug, before he mellows and says, “aw howerye” and brings me down into the Vatican vaults for some of the Vatican wine collection, using a few priceless medieval manuscripts to mop up the Pope’s wine spillage – he’s a messy drunk that one.

But that’s not what happened unfortunately. We didn’t have the Pope offering us a personal tour around his gaff. Instead we had to settle for our Guide – handily enough called Guido, as he led us through the ornate rooms of the Vatican museum, past so many frescos I thought I would choke. Too much beauty in the one place makes it harder to appreciate, it’s like not being able to see the wood for the trees. We had decided to go on a Monday, which we learned afterwards was a fiercely thick idea, since everyone who went on a Sunday and saw that The Vatican was closed then came back the following day.

We were throng-herded through a tiny crevice that lead to the Sistine Chapel where our absorption of Michaelangelo’s five year effort was punctuated by the Vatican security giving people a bollocking for using their cameras. The ceiling itself is a neck-creakingly exciting viewing, seeing Adam and God in their original glory, not being replaced by Bart Simpson or the Flying Spagetti Monster. No photoshopped nonsense here, every lick of paint in its original untampered, uninternet-memed beauty. Good old Michaelangelo, how he found time to battle Shredder I’ll never know.