That’s what we’ll say to each other ten years from now. And we’ll nod and laugh and then we’ll tell the story to whoever will listen, and maybe we’ll embellish a little more each year, but maybe not, because it’s a pretty good story as it is.

Saturday, July 19 2014, 2:30pm.
We’ve just checked in to our unexpectedly lovely bed & breakfast in Rome, and set down with maps and lists and the internet to decide what to do with the wealth of a whole afternoon. We find out the Vatican museum is closed on Sundays, and we’ve waited twenty years and 4000 miles to see the Sistine Chapel, which makes the decision pretty easy. We look up bus routes.

2:50pm
We learn that, although the museum is open till 6, the ticket office closes at 4pm. We gather our things, exit the hotel, and run to what we…