A Birthday Pilgrimage Gone Wrong
- Joanna
- 2 days ago
- 9 min read
Today was my birthday.
I really hadn’t thought the day through when I decided to book tickets to the Vatican. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable birthday activity.
Right?
What better thing to do on one's birthday than to go into the most churchiest of churches out there... whilst in the midst of intense jetlag?
Now, anyone who’s read my blogs knows how I feel about churches... especially Catholic churches.
They annoy me to no end.
Why?
Because they parade “salvation” and "goodwill" with their gold trim, stained glass, vaulted ceilings, silver plates, immense wealth, art, investments, and gold-threaded vestments... all wrapped up in a holier-than-thou, hypocritical attitude. Yet somehow, no one actually seems to be saved. Not the poor, not the starving... whether in first-world cities or developing countries.
Poverty & charity vs. wealth accumulation.
We all know what the Catholic Church chooses.
I had solemnly promised myself, a long time back, that I’d never set foot in another Catholic Church... but I made an exception for the Vatican. The Sistine Chapel rightfully should be on everyone’s bucket list... and I figured I probably shouldn’t skip it. If Michelangelo can go... I can go.
Years ago, I was in Rome... and I was on my way to visit the Vatican. As I went to cross the Ponte Sant'Angelo, I changed my mind and figured I'd skip it and go "another time."
Well... 26 years later... here I am.
I probably should've taken the chance to have gone then, back in 1996... and given myself a lovely birthday today... instead of fighting crowds, weather, jet lag, new shoes, and slippery cobblestones.
Here's a quick synopsis for anyone wondering what is so special about the Vatican...
The Vatican — officially Vatican City State — is the world’s smallest independent country, both in size and population. It serves as the spiritual and administrative center of the Roman Catholic Church. It is home to the Pope, the leader of the Catholic Church, and houses some of the world's most famous religious & artistic treasures. The city covers just about 0.2 square miles and has roughly 800 residents, most of whom are clergy or members of the Swiss Guard (the Pope’s ceremonial army).
Key landmarks:
St. Peter’s Basilica: A massive Renaissance church built over what’s believed to be the tomb of St. Peter. Its dome, designed by Michelangelo, dominates the skyline.
St. Peter’s Square: The grand piazza in front of the basilica, often filled with pilgrims and tourists.
The Vatican Museums: A sprawling collection of art and historical artifacts accumulated over centuries, including masterpieces by Raphael, Caravaggio, and Michelangelo.
The Sistine Chapel: The crown jewel of the Vatican, featuring Michelangelo’s legendary ceiling frescoes and The Last Judgment.
Despite its size, the Vatican wields enormous influence — religious, political, and cultural. It’s both a place of worship and pilgrimage and a museum of Western civilization, attracting millions of visitors each year.
My jet lag has been atrocious. Drinking a bottle of prosecco in the middle of the night certainly didn’t help matters. I need to start drinking more water too...
But... off I went to the Vatican...
Google Maps told me it would take about 37 minutes to walk from my hotel to the front entrance. It wasn’t a particularly scenic walk, but I did it... trudging along under the threat of dark clouds... and I eventually arrived. I knew I was there because the crowds suddenly grew to the point of utter insanity. Claustrophobic-level insanity.
Little did I know, it was only going to get worse...
The lines to enter were astronomical. Tourists and pilgrims were packed in between rope barriers and stood for about a mile... or more... just waiting to get into the Vatican courtyard. I had a ticket to the Museum, but I had no idea where the museum entrance was. There were too many people, everywhere... and zero signage.
Then it started to rain. A LOT.
I was wearing stupid, new shoes.
Bright white.
Who buys brand-new, white shoes before a trip?
Me.
And they're Vans.
What am I? 14???
Don't travel with me. I'm a clown.
These dumb shoes slipped out from under me at almost every step... and naturally, I fell while crossing one of the streets. I was walking along making a TikTok (of all things), so my spectacularly clumsy moment was slightly captured for posterity. I fell hard.
Crash!!! Right down.
I smashed my foot, ripped open my knee, destroyed my spirit... but somehow, I grinned, thanked the kind souls who helped me up... and kept going...
The guards wanted to call an ambulance!!!
Imagine...
The Pope didn't help at all.
Apparently, Charles and Camilla were there too. They didn't help either.
Rude.
Shockingly, I didn’t cry.
Yes, actually, I did.
A bit.
I cried a bit.
I should have cried more. It really hurt.
And my dumb white sneakers? Not white anymore.
Pants? Scuffed all up the left-hand side... with a lovely, round blood stain on the knee.
Typical.
Every trip I go on, I wonder what stories I’ll come back with. I don’t usually hope for those ending in excruciating pain, though.
Finally, limping along and soaking wet, I found the museum entrance and followed the crowds around the building... for what seemed like forever... only to realize I’d gotten myself into the wrong line. There were no signs, no arrows, no semblance of order. Nothing. The chaos was unbelievable. I could hardly believe my own eyes.
Then this wretched old hag insisted I get behind her in the line. God forbid that, in a crowd of 28 million people all vying for the same entrance, I get in before her. By that point, my patience had evaporated entirely. I was soaking wet, in excruciating pain, exhausted, and dehydrated. And I yelled at her: “DON’T GET YOUR KNICKERS IN A KNOT!”
I don't think I've ever even used that expression before.
I have no idea where it came from at that exact moment... ???
I realized the Vatican could break even the most patient traveller. Not that I'm even close to the most patient traveller... but if I were, it could easily break me. I almost left. I had no patience left for lines, rain, pain, or entitled, hogging seniors.
Not very "Catholic" of her...
I finally made it inside the Vatican… eventually. We’d probably been standing in line for over 45 minutes... and even inside, the crowds were utterly absurd... and the crowd control... non-existent. First came ticket check #1, then the security checkpoint, followed by ticket check #2. After surviving this seemingly endless series of complex, challenging, and unpleasant tasks, we began the climb up an enormous, winding staircase... up, up, and away... into the museum.
Me... and 14 billion others.
The entire museum was breathtaking... and it took me about two hours to get through. In all honesty, it probably should've taken me more time. In hindsight, I slightly regret not reading every single art plaque or wall label—and I wish I’d hired a private guide or joined a tour to soak up as much as possible. But the crowds and chaos were so overwhelming that my only goal became simple: get in, get through, and get out as fast as humanly possible.
Still, I couldn't help being mesmerized by everything: the Raphael rooms, the iconic Roman and Greek statues, the classical sculpture, the Renaissance and Baroque masters' paintings, the 16th-century maps of Italy’s regions, the tapestries, the ceilings, the decorative arts, and countless corridors of priceless art... but...
Always a "but"...
There were just too many people to appreciate it truly. I was frustrated, claustrophobic, and getting more and more irritated with every step. When we finally reached Michelangelo’s ceiling in the Sistine Chapel, I was drained. Fully and completely.
*No photography permitted in the Sistine Chapel... so no photos to display!
I was frantically searching for the exit... but had to pass through five Vatican gift shops first. I briefly considered buying something to “support the Church,” but...
JUST KIDDING!
The last thing the Catholic Church needs is to get its hands on my empty wallet.
I’m poor, and honestly, I didn’t really want a physical reminder of this chaos.
One small victory: I used an umbrella for the first time as an adult. I have never carried an umbrella around before... ever... but there it was, in my bag, being useful and saving my soaked self.
By this point, my foot had started to really throb. I tried to ignore it and keep exploring, but every step was a reminder that I was a clumsy idiot.
I needed to eat... and I needed a drink... desperately... to both celebrate my 53rd birthday... and to take the edge off my throbbing foot.
Earlier, I’d gone online asking for restaurant or café recommendations. I was seeking somewhere off the tourist trail, offering vegetarian and gluten-free options... and, of course, cheap wine. Or Aperol Spritz. The first spot I’d pinned on my map was semi-near the Vatican, so I started limping my way toward it.
The thought of sitting down to sip something delicious was luring the limping me...
It was my birthday, after all. After surviving the Vatican chaos, I figured I’d earned myself a nice lunch and a lovely glass of wine. Unfortunately, the arrival was not exactly what I had been expecting. From the moment I walked through the door, the guy behind the bar was so incredibly rude and dismissive that I stayed just long enough to finish my small glass before making my hasty exit. A little farther down the lane, I found a small gelato shop. The guy working there wasn’t much friendlier.
A little further on, I walked into a wee bistrot terrazza and, with an enormous smile on my face, motioned to the man working there that it was just me coming in.
Me, myself and I.
"Table for one, please!"
He immediately shouted at me that there was no public toilet there and waved me off like a bad smell. I was stunned... devastated, embarrassed, horrified, and, somehow, quite belittled all at once.
I didn’t bother explaining that I wasn’t there for the bathroom. I was too gobsmacked.
I was there for an Aperol Spritz. A birthday Aperol Spritz.
It was appalling. Really lousy.
So I left... I’d say I walked away with my tail between my legs, but honestly, I didn't do anything wrong. I refused to let myself feel degraded. But... I was.
It wasn't a fabulous birthday.
People say Parisians are rude.
I disagree.
I guess I can't really blame the Romans. If I had to deal with hordes of tourists invading my city every day, I’d probably be cranky too. Still… I do wish they were nicer to me, especially on my birthday.
From there, I figured my best bet was to buy myself a Lemon Spritz from a small grocer. That's precisely what I did... and with it in my hand, I made my way to the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi in Piazza Navona... then on to the Trevi Fountain. I knew the Trevi would be a tourism nightmare, but I decided to risk it anyway.
I was right.
It was beyond crowded... thousands and thousands of people packed together like human sardines, all vying for the perfect photo. I somehow managed to squeeze up to the front momentarily, but barely.
A little bit about the Trevi Fountain, thanks to our friends at Chatgpt...
"The Trevi Fountain is one of Rome’s most iconic landmarks... a grand, baroque masterpiece that feels almost alive with movement and drama. Completed in 1762, it was designed by Nicola Salvi and finished by Giuseppe Pannini. The fountain marks the end point of one of Rome’s ancient aqueducts, the Aqua Virgo, which has supplied the city with water for over 2,000 years.
At its center stands Oceanus (Neptune), the god of the sea, riding a shell-shaped chariot pulled by two sea horses — one calm, one wild — symbolizing the shifting moods of the ocean. Around him are allegorical figures representing abundance, health, and nature, all set against a backdrop of cascading water and sculpted rock.
The Trevi Fountain is not just a work of art; it’s a ritual. Legend says that if you toss a coin over your left shoulder with your right hand, you’re guaranteed to return to Rome. (Two coins mean you’ll fall in love, and three mean you’ll marry that person.) Each day, thousands of tourists take part, and the money collected — often over a million euros a year — is donated to charity.
What the chaos worth it?
I guess so.
I have always loved the Trevi Fountain.
Did I throw a coin over my left shoulder to guarantee to return to Rome?
In 1999? Yes... damn straight. And guess what? I'm back today... 26 years later.
Did I do it again today????
Hard no.
I got back to my hotel by 5 pm... and I think I was fast asleep by 5:30. Thought I did sleep through most (some) of the night... I stayed in bed until 10 am the following morning.
If this jet lag doesn't beat it soon, I'm going to end up with bed sores...
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