To say that I didn't know what to expect to see in the Palazzo Barberini would be an understatement. The day we visited the Palazzo I found myself being swept in with the group and, like a benign sheep, I allowed myself to be corralled to the museum even though I didn't know what it was. I only knew it was required. I think at some point during the walk I said to someone "what is the Palazzo Barberini?" to which I did not receive a clear response, so I resigned to let the adventure happen and kept myself open to surprises.

Just like many of my other excursions on this trip, the Palazzo Barberini turned out to be a very pleasant surprise indeed. As I walked through the first floor of the museum, I noticed that a lot of paintings seemed to have a lot of gold in them and the characters' faces had a certain look to them, a look which seemed very familiar to me. The word "Byzantine" popped into my head - yes, I think these paintings are very Byzantine. I looked around for some evidence to confirm my suspicions and see an informational placard on the wall. I scanned it for the word "Byzantine" and lo and behold, there it was! Apparently I did pick something up from the countless tours of museums I've experienced in my life - and I thought I wasn't really listening! But in all seriousness, it was truly a great moment when I made that connection. I felt very proud of myself and very learned.

As I continued to walk through the first floor of the museum I noticed that most of the paintings were religious. Almost every single one of them was of some sort of religious scene or figure, and each figure seemed to have the same indifferently pious look on their face. While I have noted before that I do love gold, I realized in the Palazzo Barberini that Byzantine art is not really my cup of tea. It just didn't seem to draw me in quite as much as some of the other art we had seen.

Upon completely all the rooms on the first floor, I was totally ready to leave the museum and get a sandwich. This plan seemed perfect in my mind until someone informed me that there was an entire second floor of the museum. How I didn't realize that the museum had another level, I have no idea. I'm still not sure why it didn't dawn on me that most museums have more than one floor, but I'm glad I realized at some point. The second floor proved to be much more fulfilling than the first. I only wished I hadn't tired myself out spending so much time on what I believed to be the only floor.

I had a moment on the second floor where I was looking at a Caravaggio painting and was suddenly struck with an overwhelming sense of historical presence in the room. All of a sudden I became very conscious of the fact that Caravaggio himself had painted the art that was right in front of me. Caravaggio made every brush stroke on the painting that I am now standing four feet away from. It was one of those mind-blowing existential moments when time seems to be put in a different perspective. I think the museum visit was worth it even if just for that one exciting moment.