Walk with Sandra: Rome, Italy: July 23-31, 2025

On June 11, I purchased a round-trip ticket to Rome on Emirates (US$922.10). On this return to the Eternal City after 18 years, I planned to walk the seven pilgrim churches with intention in this Jubilee 2025 year and attend the two-day Jubilee of Digital Missionaries and Catholic Influencers conference (€70 for the basic package registration plus four meals).

A pilgrimage offers me the chance to step away from daily life and refocus on what matters most: deepening my relationship with God and growing in love for Him and others. It's a spiritual reset — a deliberate pause to recalibrate my heart and renew my faith through sacred spaces, silence, and intentional prayer.

Day 1: The Journey to Rome

I didn't sleep much on my Emirates evening flight from Phnom Penh to Dubai (with a 2-hour layover in Singapore). Instead, I watched two movies (Oppenheimer and Conclave). The first meal out of Phnom Penh was excellent — rice curry with daal, bread, butter, and mango pudding. I was famished and devoured it. The breakfast on the 6.5-hour Singapore-Dubai sector, however, was disappointing: burnt, dry, salty scrambled eggs that I couldn't finish. I managed only the hash browns and mushroom compote. We landed in Dubai at 4:40 A.M.

The 4.5-hour layover in Dubai was my first time transiting through the airport, and everything felt novel — the Arabic script on signs, the endless perfume shops. Even the Emirates pre-flight video was in Arabic, which was a first for me. I found prices steep; 32AED was equivalent to about US$9. Still, the atmosphere was welcoming and cosmopolitan, with people of all nationalities working and transiting through.

The next flight to Rome departed at 9:10 A.M. on a spacious Airbus A380-800. I was grateful for my aisle seat in zone F, up front near the cockpit — the Khmer staff at the Emirates check-in counter had done me a huge favor. I was also able to charge my devices on board (be sure to bring the right adapters!).

During the second meal service, the flight attendant skipped the two young girls sitting across the aisle to my left. They were too polite to make a fuss and simply went without food. I didn't think this was right, so I pressed the call button for them since the female staff in the galley behind us seemed impossible to reach. After some time, a male steward came to ask what I needed. I explained that the girls hadn't been served — they had no food while the rest of us were nearly finished eating. He went to ask them what they wanted, and only then did the female attendant approach to follow up. She attended to them only after her male colleague intervened. Afterward, the girl to my left thanked me for speaking up. They were so sweet and non-confrontational — unlike me.

About 6.5 hours later, I arrived in Rome. I heaved a huge sigh of relief to see my checked suitcase appear on the conveyor belt — it had been handled at four airports (PNH, SIN, DXB, and finally FCO). I reminded myself to trust the process — to let go and not worry about things beyond my control.

To catch the Trenitalia Leonardo Express train from FCO to Roma Termini, I walked about five minutes to the train station. Two ticket staff at the gates told me I couldn't tap my credit card at the "Tap & Go" gate and would need to buy a ticket first. After fumbling around looking for the official seller — others were charging more than the €14 fare — I finally found the counter: a non-descript window with a Trenitalia sign clearly stating they sold the €14 ticket (note: they don't accept cash). Ticket in hand, I headed to platform 3 where an express train was preparing to depart. A staff member validating tickets by the tracks validated mine with the machine, and I quickly boarded. The train departed soon after, and about 30 minutes later, I arrived at Roma Termini.

The walk from the station to my lodging was challenging — I was lugging two suitcases in the bloody heat and sunshine. Some of the pavement was uneven, and the rocky cobblestone streets threatened to damage my suitcase wheels. In those sections, I had to carry both bags. As a budget traveler, I avoid taxis unless it's an emergency.

I stayed at a convent for eight nights, paying €448 (€50/night plus €6/night tourist tax to the Municipality of Rome) to an elderly religious sister during check-in. The room was large with three single beds (even though it was only me) and an ensuite bathroom. I was glad it was air-conditioned since Rome was as hot and humid as Phnom Penh in summer. Though the bathroom was spacious with a high ceiling, the shower stall was tiny, making it a challenge to wash my hair and body. That's Europe for you.

After settling in, I walked to the nearest supermarket, Pam Local, for an early take-out dinner: chicken bites with roasted vegetables and green olives, plus lasagna alla bolognese (€5). I also stopped at a fruit shop next door, run by Bangladeshi immigrants who spoke fluent Italian — which I found intriguing. I bought two large nectarines and a large peach for €3.70.

I had a nectarine for dessert, and it was delightful — so sweet and juicy, bringing me back to my year in Europe when I feasted on nectarines and peaches. They're hard to find affordably in Asia, and I don't remember seeing them much in the U.S. either. It was wonderful to enjoy them again.

Thanks be to God for being with me on this long and tiring day of travel.

Day 2 (July 24, 2025): Walking Pilgrimage from St. Peter's Basilica to St. Paul Outside the Walls

Breakfast was simple fare at the convent — cereal, hard bread, and hot drinks from a machine. The double espresso jolted me awake. It's really not about the quantity but the quality of coffee here in Italy.

I started my first day of pilgrimage at 8 A.M., walking to a nearby bus stop. Spotting a tabacchi (Italian for tobacco shop/newsstand) next to the stop, I bought 10 single metro/bus/tram tickets for €15. This was the most economical option for me since I only took public transportation twice a day. (The three-day ROMA72H pass at €18 for unlimited rides would be ideal if you plan to hop on and off frequently.)

I took bus 62 to St. Peter's Square, grateful for a window seat to film the journey. It was surreal to see St. Peter's Basilica again after 18 years. Back then, people called me "signorina," but on this trip, I was more of a "signora." Sigh, the inevitability of human aging.

I attended a 10 A.M. Mass inside St. Peter's (near the Chair of St. Peter). Later, after passing through the Holy Door, I entered the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, where I prayed and sat in silent adoration before Jesus. It was deeply moving, and I couldn't stop my tears. I felt both happy and sad — happy to finally have this chance to be with Jesus in this way; sad because I regrettably hadn't made enough time for Him in recent years. The last time I sat in adoration before our Lord was probably in Fatima, Portugal in 2014. I could truly feel Jesus's presence in the chapel. To see so many others there embracing Him in that moment was truly wonderful.

After exploring St. Peter's Basilica, I walked along the River Tiber to Ponte Sisto and then to Pizzeria La Boccaccia for lunch. I bought five large slices of different types of pizza with toppings like potatoes, mozzarella, blue cheese, basil, sundried tomatoes, and mushrooms (€14.50). The portions were huge, so I saved half for dinner later. They were delicious.

From there, I kept walking toward the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, stopping at a gelato place where I spent €3 for a two-flavor gelato cone (pistachio and lemon). I also bought a regular bottle of sparkling water (acqua con gas) for €1.20. Later, I came across fountains with water flowing freely, which I later learned were called nasoni (literally "large noses" in Italian). A lady was filling her small plastic bottle from one. When I looked at her perplexed, she said in English that I could drink from it, so I followed suit. She asked me where I was from — the FIRST person to ask me this question that day! I was craving encounters, even just in the convent dining room, but the two women who showed up early for breakfast didn't say much to me beyond polite greetings in Italian. I thought it would be like Montmartre's guesthouse at the Basilica of Sacré-Cœur, where staff and guests chatted me up so easily, but it wasn't to be this time. So it was SO nice to talk to a friendly stranger on the street. Her young son was with her, and I could tell he was dying to know what we were talking about in English. :)

After more walking, I finally arrived at the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls around 4:30 P.M. The basilica closes at 6:30 P.M. daily. I attended my second Mass of the day at 5 P.M. The atmosphere felt more personal and easy-going than St. Peter's:

Real candles instead of electric ones
A simple, straightforward Mass led by a single African priest (versus two priests at St. Peter's)
The tomb of St. Paul and the chain relics were accessible to pilgrims — unlike at St. Peter's, where only pre-reserved groups could get close to the steps leading down to St. Peter's tomb below Bernini's canopy (and even they couldn't descend to pray before the Apostle)
The crowds at St. Peter's sacristy made souvenir shopping impossible, but at St. Paul's I could browse in peace. The merchandise was better too — I spent €15.90 on three Pope Leo XIV official posters and a 2025 Jubilee book featuring Pope Leo XIV on the cover. Many souvenirs at St. Peter's still featured Pope Francis and other past popes.

I paid €3 to enter the cloister at St. Paul Outside the Walls. The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the central garden was SILENCE. It was profound... as if time stood still. I wished I had more time to linger, but the church was closing, so I hurried my pace.

On the return journey, I waited over an hour for bus 23 from the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls. Apparently, due to traffic conditions, buses in and around Rome are notoriously unreliable and don't follow the timetable. My persistence paid off when I finally boarded the crowded bus and stood in the back for the long ride to central Rome.

To make matters worse, the bus's map display was broken, so I had to pull out my phone to track my stop on Google Maps. A woman near me asked for help as well since her phone battery had died, so when her stop approached, I told her to get ready. Thank God for my power bank — my phone would have died long ago without it. I charged my phone at every rest break to extend its battery life. I'm truly helpless without my phone as I use it for so many things: maps, camera, translation, and research (instant information at my fingertips!). It's really changed the way I travel.

En route on a connecting bus (62) back to the convent, I witnessed a scene: a young Chinese tourist claimed that a man had pickpocketed €100 from her small white hanging purse. The guy denied it, even showing his empty pockets, but he quickly exited at the next stop. The tourist and her companions followed after him, but he fled the stop instantly.

Day 3 (July 25, 2025): Walking from St. Sebastian Outside the Walls to St. John Lateran and Holy Cross in Jerusalem

The 30-minute tour of the Catacombs of San Sebastiano (€10/adult) was mind-blowing. It was my first time walking inside an underground burial place of pagans, martyrs, and early Christians from the second to fourth centuries.

Walking down the steps and into a narrow passageway, I immediately entered a cool, dark, and eerie atmosphere. In some areas, the ceiling was so low I had to duck.

(Photos below - courtesy of Google as photography wasn't permitted in the tour)

The tour guide mentioned that grave robbery was rampant at that time. According to legend, the mortal remains of Apostles Peter and Paul were hidden here briefly for about six years during the persecutions. The word "catacomb" literally means "near the quarry" in Ancient Greek or Late Latin. After the persecution years ended, their remains were moved to their current locations.

The remains of St. Sebastian were also brought to this catacomb. A captain in the Roman army, he was martyred for secretly converting to Christianity, refusing to denounce his faith, and converting other soldiers. Emperor Diocletian sentenced him to death by arrows. The archers left him for dead, but the pious widow St. Irene of Rome retrieved his body and discovered he was still alive. She nursed him back to health. After his recovery, Sebastian confronted the emperor about his sins and cruelty. This time, Diocletian ordered him beaten to death with clubs. He was martyred this way around 286 A.D.

Mausoleums were discovered in the 1920s, and today the Basilica of St. Sebastian Outside the Walls sits above the mausoleums and catacomb.

From San Sebastian Outside the Walls, I walked along the Appian Way and through Roman neighborhoods toward St. John Lateran. It was unbearably hot and sunny, but I reasoned that my physical discomfort and exhaustion were nothing compared to the experiences of the martyrs and early Christians who were buried in catacombs outside Rome. Still, as I got closer, my phone began overheating and shutting down, drained from continuous filming. It was a sign to stop and seek shelter to cool down — not just for my phone but for myself as well. I found a supermarket and entered. Inside, the air-conditioned coolness hit my overheated body with refreshing relief. I found a table by the deli and sat down to recharge my phone's battery and my own, grateful for the dark interior.

After walking through the Holy Door of St. John Lateran and exploring the vast interior and serene cloister (€4 entrance fee), I headed toward the adjacent Sancta Scala (Holy Stairs) sanctuary. St. Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine, brought the stairs to Rome after her pilgrimage to the Holy Land around 326-328 A.D. These 28 marble stairs are traditionally believed to be the very staircase that Jesus climbed during His trial before Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem.

Climbing the stairs was free, but entry to the Sancta Sanctorum Chapel on the upper floor to see the Acheropita icon of Christ (believed to be not made by human hands) cost €3.50. I paid the additional fee, though when I arrived, I saw at least two individuals climbing over the rope to view the icon without paying, which annoyed me. The guard did nothing but give them a stern look.

I climbed the Holy Stairs on my knees in devotion, and the experience was hard and painful. I was aptly reminded of Christ's suffering and death on the cross. I kept focusing on that because it was all I could see — Jesus Christ on the cross, a fresco directly facing us pilgrims as we climbed. However, when I reached the last few stairs at the top, my gaze shifted to Christ's ascension into heaven, depicted in the fresco on the left, with God the Father looking down on Jesus and on us. I prayed the Jesus prayer at the end. Though the initial suffering was tough, the promise of salvation and new life made everything better. Hope rises where pain lives.

I realized that we shouldn't focus too much on the pain. Yes, I cried a fair bit in the beginning and middle, but I rejoiced when I saw Christ's ascension — it made all the difference. There is hope! There is new life and renewal. This calls us to trust in the Lord that all will be well.

I made my last pilgrimage of the day to the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem (Santa Croce in Gerusalemme), where I saw the Passion relics of Christ: fragments of the crown of thorns, fragments of the True Cross, a nail, and the wooden title from the cross. These were also brought to Rome from Jerusalem by St. Helena.

At the end of the pilgrimage, I sat down to contemplate inside the dim interior of the Basilica of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem. Having seen the catacombs, the Holy Stairs, and the Passion relics all in one day, that's when it hit me — all the suffering endured by our Lord Jesus Christ was born of LOVE. His love is the thread woven through all suffering. His sacrifice wasn't purposeless; it was for our salvation. Christ's death paid for our sins. The same goes for the martyrs and early Christians — they too died for love, in response to the love they had received from Christ and the Father. I realized the theme of the day was Descent Then Ascent. There's hope even in death because of Christ's resurrection. This calls us to let go and trust in God.

Dinner was a San Francisco hot flatbread from La Piadineria, a fast-food chain in Rome. The portion was huge and filled with fresh cream cheese, salmon, lettuce, and avocado — tasty and filling for €8.60. Apparently, this flatbread originated from the historical region of Romagna, Italy. The bread is called piada in Italian.

Then I walked to a gelato place around the corner called Gelateria La Romana. I ordered pistachio and strawberry for €3.50. This place has a following, and I could see why — their servings were bigger with generous toppings. I got a choice of traditional or chocolate cone, white or brown chocolate drizzle, a wafer on top, and more. It was a satisfying end to a heart-heavy day.

Day 4 (July 26, 2025): Walking from St. Lawrence Outside the Walls to St. Mary Major (Santa Maria Maggiore)

I started my day's pilgrimage at St. Lawrence Outside the Walls, a historic papal minor basilica that still bore signs of war among its ancient columns. The basilica was built over the tomb of St. Lawrence, a deacon martyred during Roman persecutions in 258 A.D. It also holds the relics of St. Stephen, the first martyr.

I ended my three-day walking pilgrimage to the seven pilgrim churches at St. Mary Major, where Pope Francis and other popes are buried.

Throughout the past three days, one unifying theme stood out: LOVE. Where it was present, harmony, smiles, gratitude, and gentleness followed. Where it was lacking, hostility, rudeness, and aggression played out.

Reflecting on this Roman pilgrimage, I had unfortunately encountered more coldness than warmth from the residents of Italy's capital, to my great surprise:

1. Aggression can be active — like the elderly Italian man who berated me because he thought I had cut the line in front of him while waiting to pray at Pope Francis's tomb. I couldn't even say a silent prayer to the late pope as the man loudly chastised me in Italian for a perceived affront. To be honest, I was in line but had stopped briefly to film. When I rejoined the queue, he must have thought I had suddenly cut in (which I hadn't — but even if I had, what's the big deal?). He asked if I understood what he was saying. I shook my head and replied, "La pace (peace) to you" in my broken Italian. He sneered. His inability to receive peace was telling. It was unfortunate that he soured what I'd hoped would be a sacred moment communing with the late Pope Francis.

2. Then there's passive aggression — like the convent cleaner who moved my suitcases two days in a row. She did not come to change the bedsheets. Rather, she was more concerned about the suitcases being on the beds. There were three single beds in my room, so I laid my suitcases on one of them for easy access. Why should housekeeping even care where they were placed? Isn't it the guests' prerogative to arrange their belongings? Never in my stays at various other establishments had I experienced housekeepers touching and moving my items. I found it appalling that religious sisters cared more about objects than about love and courtesy for their guests. They're supposed to be servants of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, yet I did not feel safe or welcomed there.

3. Finally, there was more hostility and rudeness — like the encounter at the Sancta Scala souvenir shop. I approached a religious sister at the counter to pay for the cards and photos I'd picked up, which totaled €5.20. The nun, who appeared to be South Asian, insisted in a harsh and aggressive tone that I give her exact change as she didn't want to break my €20 bill. I insisted, and she reluctantly checked her register, which was full of cash in different denominations! She didn't even thank me for the purchase, walking away immediately after handing me the change. I stopped myself from confronting her, even though I badly wanted to tell her that her attitude was a poor reflection on Christians. She did not show love, light, or warmth. It's a shame — moving from a sacred space filled with reverence, where pilgrims carry prayers up marble steps, to being met with unnecessary hostility over something so small. The whole situation was deeply ironic.

So even though Rome has over 900 churches, it doesn't mean that all the people there live out their faith in loving kindness, peace, joy, and humility. Perhaps I expected a bit more from Roman residents, especially those in religious orders, but like the lighthouse analogy, there's profound darkness at the bottom of the lighthouse. The sting of hypocrisy when those in religious roles act without compassion is real. They may seem to be close to their faith, but there's hardly any light shining from them. Sad to say, they do not reflect Christianity well.

I should note that not everyone I met was unkind. Right after leaving Sancta Scala, I encountered two warm and friendly sisters from the Missionaries of Charity on the street. They spontaneously wished me "buon giorno" as I walked past them while filming — a welcome contrast that felt like night and day. All of them religious sisters, some good, some not so much. But overall, I experienced more coldness than warmth during my time in Rome, which was disappointing.

After a meaningful spiritual journey walking from church to church with reverence and openness, to have those sacred moments diminished by petty human behavior... it hurts. Despite these discouraging interactions, I tried to stay graceful and centered. This turned out to be another form of pilgrimage — responding with grace and walking forward, choosing restraint and wisdom, without letting these experiences harden me. As a pilgrim of discernment, I see both the light and the shadow. I recognize now that vocation doesn't always guarantee virtue. Believe me, processing all of this was part of the purification process.

I will end this blog here. If you have time, please watch my "in-between moments" in the video below. Thank you for reading, and for walking with me in spirit. May God bless you. Peace!