The Eternal City

Rome, the Eternal City.

PHOTO BY CALEB MILLER/UNSPLASH

1 Day, 3 Countries

The Italian capital is home to two microstates

By Tim Johnson

On any given day, thousands of tourists—and probably most of the locals—in Rome walk right by this place, unaware that there’s a sovereign country just inside.

Only able to find scant bits of information on the internet and a location on Google Maps, I walked slowly, seeking out the correct entrance. And then, there it was, a little alcove sandwiched between a Hermes and a Jimmy Choo, two red flags hanging over the front.

At first, I was happy to just peer inside the courtyard, blocked by a gate and take a selfie with the golden plaque on the door, adorned with an unfamiliar coat of arms and an inscription. It reads, in Italian: Sovrano Militare Ordine Ospedaliero Di San Giovanni di Gerusalemme Di Rodi E Di Malta. And: Palazzo Magistrale-Sede Extraterritoriale. There was also a small mail slot (Telegrammi In Buca, it reads).

And most tempting—a bell. No invitations to ring it, but no prohibitions, either. Slowly and a little nervously, I reached out and pushed the button. To my complete surprise, the gate swung open. On the other side, sovereign territory, a landless country, was almost wholly contained there, in the heart of one of the world’s most celebrated cities.

When you come to Rome, you can visit three countries in one day. Once the capital of the vast and almost unimaginably powerful Roman Empire, it remains the capital city of the modern nation-state of Italy. But while you won’t find any stern-faced border guards or passport checkpoints, Rome is also home to two microstates. And while the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, Rhodes, and Malta is obscure, the other one is the religious heart of billions of Catholics around the world.

Entering Vatican City simply involves walking through one of three gates open to the public, passing through the Medieval and Renaissance VIRGINIA ITALY

Sardinia

Rome

Sicily

Rome is wellconnected by both an extensive bus network and a limited, threeline metro.

walls that still bound St. Peter’s Square. There’s a police presence, officers in combat gear with machine guns, but they seem relaxed enough, not stopping anyone from entering or leaving. Vatican City is the world’s smallest fully independent nation-state.

You could spend a whole day or more there, touring the Vatican Museums, which showcase roughly 20,000 works of the 70,000 in their collections, including priceless Roman statues and paintings from the Renaissance, housed in grand palaces.

I’ve visited the Vatican a number of times and seen the Sistine Chapel, the Pietà, and St. Peter’s crypt. This is a good thing, because I was only permitted a few moments within the pillars of St. Peter’s Square, having arrived just before local police started clearing the area, apparently for an imminent open-air mass.

I asked one stern-faced man who seemed to be in charge when I could maybe attend the mass. Shaking his head with gusto, he looked down at my well-worn cargo shorts and faded sneakers.

“No, no, prego, please go,” he said, efficiently directing me through a gate, which snaps shut behind me.

But having just walked through the gate at the Order of Saint John, I found myself welcomed, sort of, at least for the moment. While these knights have ruled lands around the world (most notably, Malta, but also Rhodes, and four Caribbean islands), they now principally occupy two buildings in Rome, which enjoy extraterritorial status. The three officers of the order are their only citizens, although thousands around the world remain knights and dames. The Order is now mostly involved in humanitarian work and enjoys observer status at the U.N. They even issue their own postage stamps, coins, and passports.

I stepped into a small, dark office and was greeted in Italian by a man named Fabio in a sweater and tie. He spoke no English, and I faltered as I tried to explain my presence there.

“I like visiting unknown countries, and this is a country—in a way,” I said, while Fabio’s face remained a wall of incomprehension. “I’m here to learn a little more history?”

Suddenly, Fabio had an idea.

“You here to see John?” he asked.

Yes, certainly, I affirmed, I would love to meet John. Who was John, exactly? I’ll never know. Because after dialing a house phone and engaging in a rapid-fire conversation with the unknown person on the other end, Fabio’s face clouded.

“John not here in the Palace,” he said.

Then, placing the phone on his counter, he walked around and blocked my entrance to the courtyard, his arms folded across his chest.

No more conversation was needed; it was time to go. I took one more look around the courtyard, which was covered in a huge Maltese cross. Soon, the gate snapped shut behind me, and I joined the flow of tourists to the Spanish Steps. But I felt like I had been privy to a secret, just a few moments inside the world’s strangest, smallest microstate. 

Tim Johnson is based in Toronto. He has visited 140 countries across all seven continents. BE PREPARED

Be prepared to bargain before entering a cab—the city’s drivers can be fairly reluctant to run the meter.

If You Go

Stay: Simple but stylish and centrally located near Termini station, the brandnew Camplus Hotel Roma Centro has a palace feel, with vaulted ceilings and an internal courtyard. Take Note: While Vatican City welcomes millions of visitors every year, a certain level of decorum is expected, including modest dress. Also, the Order of Saint John isn’t actually a tourist attraction, so ringing the bell isn’t recommended, although you can feel free to take photographs of the building from the street.