Castel Sant’Angelo once formed part of the Pope’s military defence system. If the supreme pontiff needed to get out of the Vatican quickly into a safe place (such as occurred during the sack of Rome in 1527) then he accessed the walled passage (passetto di Borgo) which still exists today between the basilica and the castle.

The ‘castle of Saint Angel’ is named after Pope Gregory saw a vision of the archangel Michael stopping the plague which was afflicting the city in 590 AD. It’s a fascinating palimpsest of architectural styles, ranging from ancient Roman to more recent times.

Built around 135 AD as the mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian and his wife Vibia Sabina, the structure originally looked like this:

It was transformed into a castle with the addition of outer bastions after the collapse of the Roman Empire. Now it looks like this:

Castel Sant’Angelo was also used as a prison and place of execution, somewhat like the Tower of London. Anyone who has read Cellini’s autobiography will remember the account of how he escaped from grim confinement with just a broken leg. The castle is also famous for being the mis-en-scene of the last act of Puccini’s ‘Tosca’ which ends with the heroine throwing herself off its walls to her death. (See  Zeffirelli’s film of ‘Tosca’ set in these very same locations.)

The imposing structure contains forbidding cells:

Some opulent state rooms:

A picture gallery:

In its centre is the treasure room which once was the place where the Emperor’s body was placed:

There’s a delightful rooftop bar

An interesting armoury:

And the most wonderful views of Rome from the topmost terrace complete with the angel himself and and some smaller winged visitors too.

I managed to escape from the Castel Sant’Angelo via the original helicoidal ramp of Hadrian’s mausoleum.

I then made my way to the roof-top gardens of the Atlante star hotel, conveniently situated half-way between the castle and my accommodation. Here a very convivial gathering was taking place. I met the Provost of King’s, Professor Michael Proctor, together with his charming wife, Dr Julia Proctor. I also chanced upon several College non-resident members who were living in Rome. We discovered, not too surprisingly, that several of us had the same type of job: English language teachers and directors of English language schools. There was thus plenty to talk about!

During our evening a dramatic thunderstorm struck Rome. It was absolutely stunning to see a lightning flash over St Peter’s basilica.

Evidently Roman weather is highly unpredictable; I was glad that I’d brought my umbrella with me as I wended my way back to my little pensione in Via Boezio after a very pleasant evening spent in such cordial company.

There was still one further morning to my stay in Rome. Which places would entice me to visit them, I wondered…