This is the Arch of Titus, built by Domitian in 81 C.E. to celebrate his recently deceased brother Titus.
It is probably most famous for being the inspiration for the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, although at 15.5m and 50m, respectively, the Arc de Triomphe is considerably taller.
The Arch of Constantine sits next to the Colosseum. It was built in 315 C.E. and is the largest of the Roman triumphal arches.
This is the Colosseum. World famous, of course, for being the location where Bruce Lee defeated Chuck Norris in The Way of the Dragon.
Construction was begun under Vespasian in 72 C.E. and completed in 80 C.E. under his heir, Titus. 
It is the largest amphitheater ever built.
Bruce Lee films have famously unstable titles. The Way of the Dragon was released under the title Return of the Dragon to capitalize on the success of Enter the Dragon even though, technically, it was shot first. 
It has been claimed that the amphitheater could hold 87,000 spectators although modern estimates put that number closer to 50,000.
The Way of the Dragon was the only film Bruce Lee directed himself. 
The “hypogeum” was an elaborate structure beneath the arena floor, which was actually wood covered in sand.
In fact, the word “arena” comes from the Latin word “harena” or “arena” which means “sand”. 
The hypogeum contained passageways, cages for wild animals, and machinery for ramps & trap doors which could lead up to the arena floor.
In fact, my favorite moment in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator is when tigers are released through trap doors on an unsuspecting Maximus while is in the middle of a gladiatorial fight. Historically, gladiators types were paired carefully to make the match as even as possible. For example, a retiarius — armed with a net & trident — would usually be pitted against a secutor who was equipped with a smooth helmet the net wouldn’t catch on.
Oh, shit. Just realized why Bruce Lee set his boss fight with Chuck Norris here: they were modern gladiators. I can be so dumb sometimes.
Kitty-corner from the Trevi Fountain lies the Santi Vincenzo e Anastasio a Trevi. I happened to be there when all the priests came out and started singing. (Yes, one of the is playing an accordian. Yes, one is holding a baby Jesus aloft.)
They sang “O Holy Night” which was always a Christmas favorite in the Williamson family because it was the song my maternal grandmother always sang at church. And her rendition was even better than Eric Cartman’s.
Looking up the Spanish Steps…
…to the Trinità dei Monti at the top of the hill (which, weirdly, was entrusted to France until 2006.)
Looking back down the Spanish Steps at sunset to the Piazza di Spagna…
…and over Rome’s skyline. 
The crazy angles and colors of this shot makes it look like a pastiche.
This is the Column of the Immaculate Conception just to the southeast of the Piazza di Spagna. (A phallic symbol representing the Immaculate Conception? This city crazy, yo.)
The famous Trevi fountain was completed in 1762 but has a much longer, more complicated history. Trevi or “tre vie” was the junction of three roads at the end of the ancient Roman aqueduct of Acqua Vergine named, according to legend, for a virgin girl who led Roman soldiers to a source of pure water 22km from Rome.
The fountain’s theme is “taming of the waters” and depicts Triton guiding the chariot of Oceanus (a Titan who came to be identified with the wild “Ocean Sea” of the Atlantic as opposed to Poseidon with the well-charted waters of the Mediterranean) as Oceanus tames the hippocamps (creatures from Greek mythology with the upper body of a horse and lower body of a fish and the namesake of a similar-looking structure in the brains of vertebrates.)
Baroque Imagineers did a wonderful job of blending the fountain’s features in to the stone of the building behind it.
As soothing as the sound of the fountain is and as beautiful the artistry, the Trevi fountain was not the fountain I thought it was…
Ancient Romans liked victory columns even more than they liked Egyptian obelisks. This one is the Column of Marcus Aurelius to commemorate the Macromannic Wars along the Danube at the northeastern European border of the Roman Empire.
It was during this campaign that Marcus Aurelius — a Stoic and the last of Machiavelli‘s “Five Good Emperors” — wrote his Meditations. (If you haven’t read it, read it immediately. If you’ve read it, read it again.)
Richard Harris gives a thoughtful performance as Marcus Aurelius in Ridley Scott‘s Gladiator.
Aside from the graffiti, the biggest surprises about Rome have been:
This particular one is the Obelisk of Montecitorio and was brought back to the Campus Martius in Rome by Augustus. It was found in the 16th century (but reburied!) Pope Pius VI had it moved to the Piazza di Monte Citorio in 1792.
Every three meters in Rome, you can’t help tripping over ancient ruins.
Winding my way back from the Vatican through the ancient Campus Martius, I stumbled upon the Largo di Torre Argentina.
I visited the Vatican Museum after St. Peter’s Basilisk, seen here looking back at the dome.
This place is fucking ridiculous. Every inch — floor to ceiling — is crammed with ancient, medieval, and Renaissance artwork. I did, however, especially appreciate the Galleria delle Carte Geografiche. 
On the left side of the hall hang giant maps from west of the Apennines and the right side hang maps from east of the Apennines.
The maps themselves are exquisite, marking every major river and settlement. This map of ancient Italy is paired across the hall with a corresponding map of Renaissance Italy.
The crown jewel of the museum, however, is the Sistine Chapel. (Photos and speaking are forbidden inside the chapel, so I’ll use stock pictures here.)
Working backwards from Revelation to Genesis, the back wall is covered with Michelangelo‘s The Last Judgment.
The damned exiled to Hell in the bottom right corner echoes the horrors of Heironymous Bosch. Supposedly, the flayed skin held by St. Barthol0mew is a self-portrait of Michelangelo himself. Or, as one of my film cohort once said, “Have you seen that shit? Fucked up homosexual motherfucker.”
But for me, the most awe-inspiring and mesmerizing was The Creation of Adam painted on the chapel ceiling.
Although that might be because a mere week ago I stumbled on the hiding-in-plain-sight theory that God and his host are in the shape of the human brain.
I was amused to find that the Italian title of The BFG is Il GGG.
No word if they offer a white giant discount.
St. Peter’s Basilisk is one of the largest and most sacred churches in the two thousand year history of Christianity. And it is ornate as fuck.
This is Michelangelo‘s famous Pietà. Its clunky, trapezoidal shape doesn’t have the stately contrapposto of most of his other work, but the dude was only like twenty-four when he carved it, so let’s all cut him some slack.
The church ascends up and up through rotunda and cupola. With all of this lavish wealth and ostentatious design, I couldn’t help but be reminded that this particular church sits atop & benefits from a two millennia-old pyramid scheme.
Marble everywhere. Gold everywhere.
Statues of Popes everywhere. (This one is of Pope Gregory XIII. As in the one who commissioned the Gregorian calendar. You’re welcome.)
Note how the “14th” in Pope Gregory XIV is rendered: XIIII. Looks weird to our modern eyes (especially to me with an IV in my name) but it’s a good reminder that the subtractive form of Roman numerals didn’t really come to be standard until modern times. (I’ve heard that saving letters in typesetting was one contributing factor.)
This is the altar where the church’s nave and transept cross.
The (poorly shot) stained glass window of a dove over the chair of St. Peter. (“Cathedra” is the Greek word for “chair” which is where we get the word “cathedral”.) 
With all the doors and nooks and crannies in this place, you start to wonder how many secrets it holds. In fact, all of Vatican City feels like it’s rife with secrets and mysteries and conspiracies. Someone really ought to write a novel about it or something.
The Renaissance church that exists today stands atop the Old St. Peter’s Basilisk which Emperor Constantine the Great, the Roman emperor who converted to Christianity, had built atop the site thought to be the burial place of St. Peter.
I got a chance to see the crypts below the church, but photos were not allowed. Sarcophagus after sarcophagus of long-dead popes. It reminded me a lot of the crypts beneath Winterfell.
Whereas the martyred figures on the huge church doors leading back out to St. Peter’s Square reminded me of the sculptures in the Nanjing massacre museum.
I never realized that Vatican City is on the “Pudong” side of the river, opposite of ancient Rome. I took the Metro under the Tiber and walked to St. Peter’s Square. Bit of a misnomer as it is more of an oval, resembling “arms of Mother Church” reaching out from St. Peter’s Basilica. At the center of the oval, an Egyptian obelisk was erected in 1586. Because why not. The square itself was built a century later.
At Christmas time, a nativity scene…
…and Christmas tree are added. 
More symmetry with the beginning and end of my Chinese adventure: this was the Lego exhibit I saw in Boston right before I moved to Shanghai.
