Dispatch from Vatican City - Marcello! Marcello!....Benedetto! Benedetto!

So I'm at the Vatican and I'm trying to snag tickets to the papal mass in a couple of days in St. Peter's Square. I know that tickets are usually given out to groups and tours ahead of time but I'm determined to run some down for me and my devoutly Catholic travel companions. 

At the tourist office, they keep telling me to go ask across the square. And at the post office, they seem to point back the other way. I'm getting a lot of shrugging and pointing. I'm beginning to think this is some big game for the Vatican workers.  

Finally I take stock of where the most points have directed me and eliminate all the dead ends I've already run down. The only place left is the grand entrance to the Apostolic Palace. That can't be where I go? It's not like I have an appointment with the Boss. They're going to shoot me if I go there.

But I've got no other options so I gird my loins and approach the entrance with massive bronze doors that are open. At the threshold, immediately and out of nowhere I'm confronted by a menacing looking member of the Pope's Swiss Guard. I think they're called "halberdiers" because that spear that they hold is a "halberd". This guy's not in his full "jester" outfit and blessedly doesn't have a halberd but he clearly means business.  

So this guard is all up in my stuff and such, asking me what I want. My voice cracks and I meekly ask where I can get tickets for the papal mass. He asks me how many I want. I tell him three, slowly holding up three fingers making sure to face my palm toward him because a backwards peace sign is how you flip someone off in Italy and I don't want a situation. He tells me to stay where I am and he disappears. I do not move - I don't even look down to see if indeed I do have a laser sight marking the middle of my chest. The he reappears and hands me three tickets. I thank him profusely and slowly back away, bowing like I'm at a Japanese tea ceremony. Success!

I have a long history of visiting the Vatican. I love St. Peter's and the square - all of the Vatican for that matter - there is so much history and intrigue in this tiny little state. 

Years ago, when I first visited, I trekked to the top of St. Peter's dome. I don't know if the public even can do that any longer. I paid my fee, and went up this maze of stairways and elevators to access the dome. Once there, you walked single file up these rickety stairs in a hot, dark, and tight space between the outer roof and inner ceiling. You actually had to bend to the side as you climbed because of the dome's curve, only getting to see out a window every now and again. But the views were spectacular. When I got to a window, I wanted to yell, "Marcello, Marcello!" and wave out the window like Anita Ekberg did in the beginning of the film "La Dolce Vita" but in a rare exercise of good judgment, I did not.

The woman ahead of me was a middle-aged Italian woman in a sweater set and black skirt. She had a pronounced limp but scaled that dome like she did it every day. Her limp actually helped as it kept her leaning to the side in line with the dome's curve. Come to think of it, maybe that's how she got the limp.

After that trek, I was in the square mopping my sweat and chugging a Coke when I noticed that the curtains in the windows of the papal balcony of St. Peter's were moving. I was far away but I could see two guys in black cassocks with red hats holding the curtains open. Then a guy dressed in a white cassock appeared looking out over the square, like he was checking out his yard. OK now hold up, I said to myself, only one guys wears white at the Vatican. It was Pope John Paul II. The thing is nobody seemed to notice that he was there. The square was bustling with tourists and the faithful but they didn't see the Pope looking down on them. After a couple of minutes, he was gone and the curtains fell back.

Now I've had many experiences at the Vatican but none holds a candle to what I witnessed in 2005. In the spring of that year, I was watching the continuous news coverage of the vigil for Pope John Paul II who was near death. All the coverage from Rome and the Vatican had me jonesing for a visit so off I went. My travel companion and I arrived in Rome after Pope John Paul II died and just as the conclave to elect a new pope was convening.

After some walking around Rome and a great lunch at Piazza Navonna, we decided to walk over to the Vatican to check out the scene. It was only the second day of the conclave. 

In St. Peter's Square, the world's press were camped out on huge scaffolds erected throughout the square and on rooftops. But things were pretty quiet. The crowd was not that big as it was early days in conclave voting and not much activity was expected. I could see the makeshift chimney attached to the roof of the Sistine Chapel to signal whether a new pope was elected when the ballots were burned.

We visited Pope John Paul II's tomb and wandered around St. Peter's Basilica. Then we went to Mass; nothing like Mass in the mother ship.  After the service, we were poking around the nooks and crannies of the massive church when this noise from the square outside began to permeate the church. Everyone stopped in their tracks. At first it was difficult to figure out what the rumbling was but then people started to realize it was the crowd outside cheering. 

Well I've never seen anything like what happened next. Everyone from inside St. Peter's began to run for the exit like the place was collapsing and they were running for their lives - and I'm talking everyone - tourists, church ushers, even the priests and the nuns. I remember in particular, one gangling priest sprinting in his cassock down the main aisle of the church.

Once outside there were barricades that prevented us from going down the stairs. So all of us from inside the church stood at the rail looking out at the crowd. There were priests on the roofs of Vatican buildings and nuns leaning out the windows. The crowd's gaze was directed to our left at the Sistine Chapel. We couldn't see it but they began to cheer at what appeared to be white smoke coming from the chimney.

I had read press reports that, because it is difficult to distinguish the color of the smoke, this time when a pope was elected, the Vatican announced that it would also ring St. Peter's bells to confirm it. So you could see the gaze of the crowd shift from the Sistine Chapel to our right and above us. The bells started to ring confirming a new pope.

It was the most unbelievable experience to be looking out at the crowd as all this unfolded. There was this constant roar from the crowd, walls of lights from all the tv cameras, and a huge crowd of people coming across the Tiber and up the Via della Conciliazione. We were witnessing history.

The scene was chaotic and nobody seemed to know what to do with us at the top of the steps of St. Peter's. Eventually, some authorities appeared and moved us down the steps to our right but we were left there in front of St. Peter's, below and just to the side of the balcony where the new pope would appear. We had front row seats to all that was unfolding. Unbelievable. 

As time passed, the crowd in the square swelled to capacity and church officials, politicians and other dignitaries arrived with police escorts next to where we were and went into St. Peter's. The crowd erupted as officials unfurled a banner with the papal seal over the balcony. Some more time passed and then the crowd erupted again as above us, newly elected Pope Benedict XVI emerged on the main balcony and cardinals came out onto flanking ones. The crowd started chanting, "Benedetto!" and clapping rhythmically, "Da. Da. Da-da. Da.". The Pope spoke, the ceremony concluded, and for the next hour we wandered around St. Peter's Square watching people celebrate and wave flags from different countries. Strangers were hugging and cheering. That evening, we walked from the Vatican through the streets of Rome to our hotel near the train station. The whole city appeared to be out in the streets celebrating.

What I will never forget is the feeling from that crowd of people in St. Peter's Square. There was such energy and pure joy. You could feel it within you, like a vibration. It doesn't matter what religion you identify with; when that many people come together and express such joy and excitement, they create a force that transcends the collective - it is a tangible energy.