Last month, I fulfilled my dream of visiting the Vatican.

This came not-so-close on the heels of my 2022 pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

And while it’s true that visiting two of the world’s holiest cities was a childhood dream of mine, I wasn’t a particularly saintly child.

When I was 10 years old, my Amah (paternal grandmother) was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer.

I won’t pretend to remember much about her but the one thing I do remember was her own dream to visit the Vatican.

Many years passed and my few memories of Amah faded, but her dream lingered on and I took up her mantle.

PRE-TRAVEL

Of course, visiting the Vatican is nothing new; pilgrims have been doing it centuries before air travel was invented.

But I was genuinely surprised by the amount of contradictory information, both online and from friends and passing acquaintances.

I made the Schengen Rookie mistake of approaching travel agencies first.

The best source is still the primary source: the official website of the Embassy/Consulate of Italy in your place of residence.

Navigating my first Schengen visa application was stressful, mostly self-induced, as I was heavily invested in traveling to the Vatican in time for Jubilee 2025.

As most Catholics already know, the Jubilee is the name given to a particular Holy Year, which takes place every 25 years (although its frequency has changed throughout its 700-year tradition).

In its original form, the Holy Year consisted of a pilgrimage to the Roman Basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul.

This was later adapted to other signs such as the Holy Doors in local churches.

But the promise of the Jubilee remains the same: obtaining plenary indulgence, remission of all sins – a clean slate, so to speak.

At 32 years old, I was compelled to seize the golden opportunity to travel to the Vatican.

I felt exactly the same from the moment I first set my sights on the Holy Land almost three years ago.

It’s an uncanny feeling, even for someone who’s been goal-focused all her life.

No, I’m inclined to believe that the drive to travel, first to the Holy Land and then to the Vatican, came from somewhere or someone else.

My Amah had an adventurous spirit.

At age 18, she ran away from her provincial hometown of Dalaguete to the city of Cebu, where shortly after, she met my Angkong (paternal grandfather) and raised children for the next two decades.

Her life at age 32 then could not have been more different than mine now.

So while I took it upon myself to fulfill something she couldn’t in her lifetime, Amah was spiritually present in our trip, every step of the way.

DAY 1

Following a five-hour flight from Dubai to Istanbul, a two-hour layover, and another two-hour flight, I finally arrived in Rome on 11 March.

My travel companion was Jane, a long-time friend of mine all the way back to our earliest days as OFWs in Dubai.

Like me, Jane had her own spiritual reasons for traveling to Rome.

But thanks to her naturally sanguine temperament – a stark contrast to my choleric one – she kindly gave me free rein to create our minute-by-minute travel itinerary.

Right from Day 1, we were hopping from one church to another, savoring the sights and sounds (and food!) along the way, but always as pilgrims-first and tourists-second.

On our first day, we visited the Pantheon and stared up its oculus until our necks hurt and prayed in front of the Madonna of the Pantheon, dating all the way back to the 7th century when the Pantheon was transformed from a pagan temple into a Catholic Basilica, the Basilica of Santa Maria ad Martyres.

After fuelling up on pizza al taglio and gelato, we walked to not-so-nearby Piazza del Popolo, up the steps to Terrazza del Pincio.

We hurried past Via Margutta (of Audrey Hepburn’s Roman Holiday fame) to the Spanish Steps and stepped inside the Trinità dei Monti to visit the Blessed Sacrament and view the Holy Relics of St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

As luck would have it, our evening stroll at Piazza Spagna eventually led us to the Trevi Fountain which was indeed crowded but not so crowded that we couldn’t squeeze in for a coin-tossing wish.

We took the metro for the first time, starting from Barberini to Manzoni, which was a stone’s throw away from our hotel.

DAY 2

The Vatican, finally!

When Jane and I first found out that our Papal Audience tickets got cancelled following Pope Francis’ hospital admission, we were devastated.

Having seen him twice before, in Manila 2015 and Abu Dhabi 2019, I am what you might call a ‘fan’.

I was hoping to get a closer look at him at St. Peter’s Square, but his health had unfortunately taken a turn for the worse, and he had to extend his stay at Gemelli Hospital.

This was the first of many last-minute change-of-plans which, at first troubled me but later made me realise that they were for the best.

With our Wednesday morning freed up, Jane and I signed up for an early-morning pilgrimage to the Holy Door of St. Peter’s Basilica.

When we arrived at the Pilgrim’s Reception, we had to wait for a larger group to join with, but the volunteers generously obliged our request to take photos with the Jubilee Cross.

There were a number of Jubilee Crosses available at the Pilgrim’s Reception, and each group of 20+ pilgrims were entrusted with one Jubilee Cross to accompany them as they walked along Via della Conciliazione and through the Holy Door of St. Peter’s.

A volunteer briefed us on what to do next, handed printouts of the Jubilee Prayer (available in multiple languages), and reminded us that the Jubilee Cross belonged to everybody, so each of us should patiently wait for our turn to carry it.

At the start of the pilgrimage, we were all overly eager to carry the Jubilee Cross.

And since it was my very first visit to the Vatican, I found myself equally distracted by the beautiful Dome of St. Peter’s and the babble of voices reciting the Jubilee Prayer in multiple languages.

Not to mention the not-so-subtle ‘battle for supremacy’ over who gets to carry the Jubilee Cross (and take IG-worthy photos with it).

I didn’t think it would be that difficult to pray at St. Peter’s, but there I was, struggling to form coherent thoughts in my head.

But I took comfort in the knowledge that prayer is an act of love, not the result of human effort alone.

As a copywriter by profession, I have a tendency to obsess over finding the right word for everything.

But when applying the same principle to prayer, it can lead to distraction and even superficiality.

Prayer life calls for something simpler and more child-like.

If God listens to the prayers of children (and Baby-ish can sound like a totally foreign language!), then He probably won’t mind if we stumble on our thoughts and words every now and then.

So I dutifully recited the Jubilee Prayer and called to mind the faces of my loved ones until we finally reached the Porta Sancta.

Soon after entering the Holy Door of St. Peter’s, a very peculiar thing happened.

First, our pilgrimage group seemingly disbanded, from a group of 20 down to less than half.

In front of me and Jane was an elderly Italian couple.

The husband, once the ‘fiercest’ guardians of the Jubilee Cross, had by then handed it over to his wife while he marvelled at the interiors of the Basilica.

I couldn’t blame him, as I too was awe-struck by everything I saw, from the frescoes on the ceiling to the larger-than-life sculptures and mosaics.

But for some strange reason, I was drawn towards the elderly Italian woman who struggled against the weight of the Jubilee Cross.

I gestured towards it, and she happily handed it over to me, and so it happened that I became our pilgrim group’s Jubilee Cross Bearer – resulting in one of my favourite photos of the trip.

After the pilgrimage, Jane and I attended Holy Mass in front of the Chair of St. Peter and took turns in one of the many Confessionals.

It was around this time when more and more pilgrims entered the Basilica in wet raincoats.

To make it official, our tour guide that afternoon, who was supposed to take us through all four Papal Basilicas and Holy Doors, cancelled due to bad weather.

There was little else to do but to go for a long Roman lunch, and between Supplì, Calzone, and Carciofo Alla Romana, we resolved to brave the afternoon rain and enter two more Holy Doors: first in the Basilica of St. Mary Major and then the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls.

It should have been an easy downhill walk from Termini Metro to the Basilica of St. Mary Major if not for the constant batter of wind and rain.

Once inside, we briefly admired the interiors of the Basilica, went down the Confessio to glimpse Jesus’ Manger from Bethlehem.

We entered the Borghese Chapel, where the Salus Populi Romani icon is enshrined.

According to tradition, the icon was made by St. Luke the Evangelist himself, so Jane and I took the opportunity to recite the Holy Rosary and take some much-needed rest.

With little time to lose, we retraced our steps back to Termini Metro to our final stop of the day: St. Paul Outside the Walls.

As the name implies, it was the farthest of the Papal Basilicas, and I was tempted to drop it from our itinerary.

Thankfully, we made it two hours before closing time, and with very few pilgrims in the Basilica, we were able to admire the series of Papal Portraits above the columns.

And locate those of St. Peter’s, St. John Paul II’s, Pope Benedict’s, and Pope Francis’.

Similar to the Confessio at St. Peter’s and Mary Major’s, St. Paul’s also held Holy Relics – those of the Apostle of the Gentiles’ tomb and chains.

I especially loved the Altar of the Conversion with its massive painting of St. Paul (then Saul) falling off his horse on the way to Damascus.

I spared a few moments to pray for the conversion of one particular person who has yet to accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior.

The pièce de resistance was ultimately the apse mosaic.

By then, the Basilica was nearly empty, and Jane and I were free to marvel at the life-like quality of Christ’s eyes which followed us wherever we went.

Neither the photos in our camera roll or the professional ones online could do the apse mosaic justice.

Face to face with it, I could almost imagine a scene straight out of Judgment Day, striking awe and terror all at once.

Day 2 ended with a very pleasant discovery of a homey restaurant with hearty Roman cuisine near our hotel.

Bistro Al 133 Osteria Romana won us over by their hospitality, good food, and limoncello – a really great way to end a long, rainy day of Papal Basilica-hopping.

DAY 3

The Vatican, again!

Even though it was only our second time to the Vatican, Jane and I already felt like seasoned pilgrims taking the early-morning metro to Ottaviano.

Instead of walking towards St. Peter’s, we went to the Vatican Museums for our first tour of the day.

Emphasis on the ‘s’ after ‘Museums’, because it takes more than one museum to house a vast collection of masterpieces across the ages.

And despite my limited knowledge of art history, I was still able to appreciate the dizzying display of sculptures, paintings, and tapestries – even the ceilings and floors were works of art!

Of course, no visit to the Vatican Museums is complete without the Sistine Chapel.

To an outsider and non-believer, there was still a lot to take in, from Michaelangelo’s Creation of Adam and The Last Judgment to the series of wall frescoes, featuring the Old Testament scenes on one side and New Testament on the other.

But as a cradle Catholic, stepping foot inside the Sistine Chapel – where Cardinals gather to elect the representative of Christ on earth – was nothing short of extraordinary.

I examined each panel one by one but always found myself drawn to The Last Judgment.

In that brief moment of meditation, surrounded by huge crowds of people, I came to realize that all the beauty of the Sistine Chapel, Vatican Museums, and the world combined would eventually come to an end and only Christ mattered.

It was surprisingly easy to get lost in prayer and meditation in the Sistine Chapel.

You could enter into any Biblical scene of your choice, and picture yourself as a side character, but a part of the Divine Plan nonetheless.

Our second tour of the day brought us back inside St. Peter’s Basilica, starting from the Vatican Grottoes, then to the interiors of St. Peter’s Basilica, and finally, to the Dome.

Visiting the Vatican for the second time was every bit as wonderful as the first.

“It never gets old, does it?” quipped one clever fellow in our tour group, as our guide, who led the exact same tour countless times before, gave a passionate explanation of each area of significance for three hours straight.

 At the end of the tour, she gave us the freedom to climb the 551 steps up to the Dome of St. Peter’s or to leave the group.

Only one woman left, and it’s probably because she was heavily pregnant.

The rest of us either took the elevator (saving us 200 steps) or climbed every step of the way.

In hindsight, Jane and I were glad we took the elevator, because even the remaining 300 steps were no mean feat!

We stopped for breaks, urged each other on, and even though we took a bit longer than the others to get there, we eventually did.

As the highest point in Rome, it had the absolute best view of the Eternal City in all its glory.

And as the highest point of one of the holiest cities on earth, it’s easy to imagine you’re much closer to God up there.

At least I did.

Our third and final tour of the day was a walking food tour around Campo dei Fiori and Trastevere.

I lost count of the food stops (and calories) along the way, but the stand-outs were Supplì, Margherita Pizza, Porchetta, and Gelato.

DAY 4

The Roman Empire.

It’s nearly impossible to pick up any book without even a passing reference to the golden age of Rome – including the Bible.

So having read about Rome since childhood, I had a similar uncanny feeling walking into the Colosseum and Palatine Hill as I did when I visited Egypt’s Giza Pyramids and Valley of the Kings.

Either I was one of the ancient people in my past life or I just filled with my head with too many history textbooks.

I thoroughly enjoyed our early-morning tour of the Colosseum, which took us inside the ancient megastructure.

Up the Palatine Hill, where the mythological twins Remus and Romulus were found by the she-wolf.

And back down the Roman Forum, retracing the steps of historical figures along the Via Sacra.

After a quick lunch of Supplì, Jane and I took a cab to Villa Tevere, the central headquarters of Opus Dei in Rome.

We arrived right on schedule for our audience with Msgr. Fernando Ocaríz, the fourth Prelate and successor of St. Josemaria Escriva.

As the only Filipinas in the group, we greeted The Father with the Mano (gesture), touching the back of his hand on our forehead.

Jane’s long-time friend Arlene formally introduced us to The Father.

We knew we had precious little time with him, so when it was my turn to speak, I used ‘props’ to share with him key stories of my life.

First, I asked him to bless my Rosary from the Holy Land and Saxum Cross, and told him I got the chance to visit Saxum Visitor Center in the Holy Land before the war.

Next, I showed him my wedding photo (on my phone wallpaper) and asked him to bless my husband and our marriage.

Finally, I gifted him a small image of the Sto. Niño, crafted from the ashes of Mt. Pinatubo.

I was incredibly touched when he asked, “For me?” before he finally accepted it.

He even thanked us for visiting, to which I quickly responded by thanking him for meeting us.

As a parting gift, he gave each person in our group a rosary and asked us to continue praying for the Pope.

Arlene guided us back to Our Lady of Peace, the Prelatic Church of Opus Dei.

We visited the Tomb of St. Josemaria Escriva at the main altar.

And the Tombs of his successors, Bl. Alvaro del Portillo and Don Javier Echevarria in the crypt below the church.

When it was time for her to leave, we were met by another one of Jane’s friends, Marife, who invited us inside Villa Sacchetti.

Coincidentally, Marife grew up in my Amah‘s hometown of Dalaguete, so I happily conversed with her in our native Bisaya over spoonfuls of homemade gelato.

We added two more churches to our itinerary that day: the Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola and Basilica of St. Mary of Minerva.

Finally, we capped the day with aperol spritzes for aperitivo and a return trip to Bistro Al 133 Osteria Romana, where the waitstaff warmly welcomed us back like we were regular customers when it was really only our second visit!

DAY 5

In another one of the many happy little hiccups during our trip, our Pisa and Florence tour was cancelled last minute due to bad weather.

Actually, it rained in Rome almost every day during our trip but not as bad as the second day when our umbrellas were nearly flying off their handles!

So we were genuinely surprised that our fifth day started out bright and sunny and even warm!

To make the most of our sightseeing, we decided to join a golf cart tour.

Our guide picked us up in a golf cart which could comfortably seat six passengers.

But since we were only four tourists that day, he was extra chatty with all of us, even when he had to double as both tour guide and driver (and driving around Rome is no easy task!)

As he drove by the Colosseum and Baths of Caracalla, he told the story of Ancient Rome.

And just as we left the Aurelian Walls, he took on the theatrical role of Marcus, a fictional ancient Roman farmer gossiping about that weird new cult called Christianity.

It was one thing to know that Christians were fed to the lions in those days but another thing to hear it from a quote-and-quote local.

“They’re flesh-eating, blood-drinking atheists! No wonder why the harvest is a disaster! They’ve angered our gods!” Marcus said as he drove up the Appian Way.

He didn’t even break character when the other drivers honked at him.

We hopped off the Catacombs of St. Sebastian, the first of its kinds to be called a catacomb.

And while it once famously housed the remains of Sts. Peter and Paul, the Catacombs – and the Basilica above it – are named after a Roman martyr.

I especially loved going underground and taking a peek at the dark alleyways that seemed much too small for an average-sized person.

We were assured that all of the bodies had already been exhumed from the catacombs, but it was still one of those tours that made you grateful you had a guide.

After a brief stop at ruins of the Circus of Maxentius, we visited the Church of Domine Quo Vadis.

According to the apocryphal Acts of St. Peter, he met the Risen Christ while fleeing the Christian persecutions in Rome.

Domine Quo Vadis is Latin for “Lord, where are you going?”

To which Christ responded, “I am going to Rome to be crucified again.”

St. Peter understood the assignment, retraced his steps along the Appian Way, and returned to Rome where was crucified – upside-down by his personal request.

The Church itself was comparatively modest by Roman church standards.

Inside, a marble slab with two footprints marked the spot where Christ stood.

As I knelt there and touched my Holy Land Rosary on the footprints, the guide whispered, “We don’t know for sure if He [Christ] actually visited Rome.”

To which I replied, “Looks legit to me!”

Following our tour guide’s recommendation, we visited La Taverna dei Fori Imperiali for lunch.

They turned down all the guests without reservations, but they told us we could come back after an hour.

By then, we were tired of the tourist traps and just wanted to tuck in to a nice Roman lunch.

So when a restaurant did the opposite of welcoming us, we took it as a good sign and whiled away the time at the not-so-nearby Trevi Fountain.

‘Good things come to those who wait’ took on a whole new meaning at La Taverna dei Fori Imperiali.

Their Carciofi Alla Giudia (deep-fried artichoke) was the perfect starter, and their Cacio e Pepe was the best pasta of my entire trip.

Jane and I decided to finish what we started on our second day in Rome by visiting the fourth and final Papal Basilica: St. John Lateran.

We already booked a guided tour there for our last day in Rome, but since we had the afternoon to spare, we decided to visit the Holy Door a day earlier than scheduled.

After completing our Jubilee Pilgrimage, we attended the Anticipated Mass and received Holy Communion.

DAY 6

For our last full day in Rome, we paid one final visit to the Vatican.

We attended Sunday Mass in front of the Chair of St. Peter and prayed the Holy Rosary in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel.

By our third and final trip to the Vatican, I not only felt a sense of familiarity at St. Peter’s Basilica but also a sense of family.

To borrow a popular phrase by Scott Hahn, a former Presbyterian minister who converted to Catholicism, Rome Sweet Home!

Rome was home.

Amidst its immense grandeur, St. Peter’s Basilica was not unlike your local church where you could find the Blessed Sacrament, Adoration Chapel, Confessionals, Baptistery, and even a Wedding Chapel (yes, couples do get married at St. Peter’s).

Because at the end of the day, being Roman Catholic meant being a part of a universal church.

And no matter which part of the world I go, so long as there is a Roman Catholic Church, I am home.

The walk back to the metro took twice as long because of the road closures of the Rome Marathon.

Almost two hours later, we got off Circo Massimo Metro for a quick lunch at RUVER Taglia Frazionata, our best pizza in Rome (fight me on this), and Torcè, also the best gelato of our entire trip.

And off we went to our final tour: the Basilica of St. Clement, the Holy Stairs, and the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem.

St. Clement’s was a church on top of an older church on top of a pagan temple.

The “Lasagna Church” as some people called it.

But once you’re underground, it’s hard to know which layer of history ended and another one began.

I was a bit disappointed that the Temple of Mithras was closed to the public, but the tour didn’t end there, and we continued to descend underground to the point that we even saw fresh springs of water.

The Scala Sancta or the Holy Stairs are believed to be the marble steps that Jesus climbed to Pontius Pilate’s praetorium in Jerusalem.

Whether you’re a believer or not, ascending the Holy Stairs is only possible on your knees.

But there are two more staircases on both sides of the Holy Stairs – one for going up and another for going down on foot.

Since our tour had one more stop, our guide suggested that we return to the Holy Stairs after visiting the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem.

Beautiful as it was, the Basilica looked much humbler than most of the churches we visited in Rome.

But it was the only one of its kind built on top of soil from the Holy Land, brought by St. Helena, the mother of Emperor Constantine, along with the Holy Stairs, True Cross, and other Holy Relics from Jerusalem.

Some of them are still housed in the Basilica: fragments and a nail from the True Cross, thorns from the Crown of Thorns, the Titulus Crucis or INRI sign, and even St. Thomas’ finger which had touched the pierced side of the Risen Christ.

After the tour, our guide pointed us in the direction back to the Holy Stairs, where Jane and I were amongst the last few pilgrims to be admitted before the doors closed for the day.

The beauty of a late-afternoon visit was that it was much less crowded, so you didn’t have to rush through the steps.

Also as a novice knee-climber, I wasn’t sure how to maintain my balance, much less move up the steps, so I did an awkward grapple movement in the first few steps until I got the hang of it.

And since it was the end of our last full day in Rome, my prayers mainly consisted of a litany of the same intentions the week before.

I couldn’t form long coherent prayers, a similar experience at the Vatican.

But do I believe that the Holy Stairs were made holy during the Passion of Christ?

Absolutely!

Because as I was nearing the top of the stairs, I had an overwhelming sense of consolation that all my prayers, particularly my prayers for conversion, would soon be answered.

And I was filled with immense joy as I walked out of the Basilica, skipping like a schoolgirl, back to the hotel to get some much-needed rest for our return trip home.

It has been a month since I arrived home from Rome.

But has my life truly changed since my ‘life-changing’ trip?

When I first confided in my Confessor that I was traveling to the Vatican, I spoke with cautious optimism.

“Yes Father, I’m off to another pilgrimage. Not sure what difference it will make since, as you know, I haven’t changed much since I visited the Holy Land three years ago. I should be a saint by now but I’m not!”

“No, you are blessed! You are very blessed,” he assured me then.

And I can say it with utter conviction now.

I am blessed.

I am blessed to have visited the two of the holiest cities on earth and entered the Holy Doors of all four Papal Basilicas in Jubilee 2025.

Rome wasn’t built in a day and holiness – both yours and mine – doesn’t happen overnight.

Personal sanctity is the work of a lifetime – but plenary indulgence goes a long way!