Anne at the keyboard today:

Today Mick had another intensive Italian speaking opportunity in the morning and then we were off to Christmas Eve Mass in St Peters with Pope Francis. Sounds like a short program, but it was a rich experience.

The mother of another of Mick's Italian teachers in Australia (Francesca- teacher, Luciana - her mum) knew from Francesca that we were in Rome and asked to meet us. She drove the 50 km from her place in the hills outside Rome (Nerola) where her family grow olives, to meet us near our place and we chatted in a nearby bar/ cafe- actually Mick chatted and I did my best to follow as she spoke no English. She wanted to have us come to her place but we don't have the time. She was lovely and this was a great experience. She was particularly pleased to meet someone connected with her daughter in Australia whom she clearly misses. Like Valerio yesterday she rues the lack of opportunity for young people in Italy today.

We are sworn to come and spend some time in Nerola with her next time we are in Rome. You can never have too many excuses for a return!

We walked Luciana back to her car- how on earth she got a parking spot is anyone's guess but I think on Xmas Eve the place is quieter. Then we returned to our unit and cooked the delicious fresh pasta we had bought from the market and ate it with a home - made zucchini and capsicum and tomato sauce. Yum.

The rest of the day was devoted to seeing Il Papa. We packed a bag with a small amount of food, and water, and walked the ten minutes around to the outside of St Peters at 4.30 for the 9.30 Midnight Mass. This meant that the temperature would be a bit warmer during the wait than if it were actually midnight.

Mick dropping in ...The crazy early start to the lining up was based on advice that you need to do this to ensure that, even though we had tickets, we would actually get into the Basilica. A process that would be easy to improve!

Even more in need of improvement was the lining up process. One might have expected signs (nope) crowd barriers to keep people in their line (nope), helpful staff to encourage good order ( nope,nope,nope). Instead we got uncertainty about where the line was to go (it was running back on itself when we arrived and headed for imminent chaos), or straight down the street ( which it eventually did after a bit of crowd sourced wisdom). However, as the evening wore on there were several attempts to join the line behind us ( a small road that enters the Vatican broke the line there). Most people, when advised that the line actually ended several hundred metres further back, and that the people now behind them had been there for two hours or more, shrugged and left. Several, however, simply decided they spoke no language known to humankind and stayed- including a few nuns.

(At this point in the blog we seem to have lost half of our eloquently written post. Here is our attempt to reclaim the masterpiece that was).

The line finally began to move at 7pm. As we shuffled forward still more "innocents" attempted to sidle into the line near us. At last - probably as a token gesture- a couple of carabinieri came by. They did spring a group of three near us with a loud "Fuori, fuori!" (Out of here!). The two young women and the older nun sloped off embarrassed. Immediately though, another nun seemed to slip in ahead of where they had been.

To continue the nun theme, we had read in some advice about admission to the mass of someone's experience when a pair of nuns, just behind him at security screening, cleared the check and broke into a sprint for the church to nab a good spot. This tickled our fancy. Imagine our delight when we had a similar 'nuns on the run' experience!

We had been relatively close to the front of the line (100 metres back) so when we got through the final checks and into the Basilica we were too late to get a prized aisle seat (to be close to the pope on entry) but we were able to get a seat 8 or 10 rows back from the front of the general admission section with a pretty good view of the altar. We settled down to wait, soaking in the splendour of the interior and eventually being entertained by the liturgy practice and the choir warm up.

The Joyful mysteries of the Rosary followed- in Latin of course - and then the moment we had been waiting five hours for. The entrance procession precipitated yet another dose of bad behaviour. Pushing to get to the aisle. Standing on chairs. Raised arms and selfie sticks. In fairness, no one applauded- we had been asked not to!

The procession of celebrants seemed to go on forever. Francis himself looked tired- an impression that didn't change throughout the liturgy. No sign of the famous smile.

There were a few people in front of us who were more concerned with their phones and selfie sticks than with the liturgy itself. After about fifteen minutes of this my stock of Christmas good will was exhausted with the guy in front of us. My imagination was working on any number of creative ways to inflict the selfie stick and its shaky iPhone on its owner. Not the spirit, I know. In the end I engaged my very best assertive communication skills and tapped him on the shoulder to say that I wasn't sure if he was aware of it but his use of the camera and stick was a distraction to those behind. He did look miffed, but he stopped.

Third time lucky. For some reason the final part of this entry has disappeared again. At least a bit less this time! Ah yes. I remember. The liturgy. The reason we were there in the first place. A magnificent piece of theatre. The full power of a full

blown ritual, with lights, incense, the most beautiful music, and a warm and caring sermon from Francis, drawing parallels between the experiences of Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and so many in our world today. If I were to indulge in a little critique - no serious effort to give women a real role. We do better in our parishes- on a good day.

Two hours after commencement and 7 hours after we joined the queue we were out in the crisp Roman night air. We both agreed that it was a genuine once in a lifetime experience, both in terms of the fact that we would be unlikely to have the opportunity again, and that should it present itself, we'd be unlikely to take it!

Home for a cup of tea,a piece of Christmas cake next to our little tree and a call to my parents - and then to bed, tired but happy as we saw two birthdays in. The little fella in the manger of course, and Anne. Buon compleanno, Bella!