Tiniest country I've ever seen

Two words: Vatican City. Two more words: Holy Moley!

Do I need to repent for just saying that? Oh well, around here there's plenty of holy water to go around.

All joking aside, this itty-bitty (around just 100 acres) country was awesome. There's just no other word for it. No, I didn't see the Pope, but I joined 1.1 billion Roman Catholics in St. Peter's Square to stand in line for the Vatican. Okay, I'm kidding. Only one billion were there.

We were hit up by a couple sketchy "tour guides" offering to sell us tickets, but we said "No grazie" and kept walking. After seeing the line wrapped all the way around St. Peters though, we were quickly tempted by a ripe deal to shell out some extra cash for a guide and to skip the lines.

That's when another woman approached us, asking if we wanted to join a tour. She pointed us in the direction of about a dozen people standing around listening to a guide do a pre-tour. We joined them.

But then the guide walked us out of Vatican City and all the way down the street to a little cafe to collect her money from the group. We weren't having it.

We wanted our museum tickets in hand before handing over our sweet poorly-converted euros. We told the tour guide we follow a strict not-getting-swindled policy and asked if we could pay inside at the main desk. We did, and we were back to smooth Vatican sailing.

You really have to visit the Vatican to understand it.
But when you do, make sure you cover those shoulders and leave your short shorts and mini skirts at home. Or else you'll be sweating more than a ...

I'm sure you've heard the expression about sweating more than certain people in church.

The St. Peter's guards are here to throw the dress-code book at you and you'll be wearing your socks taped to your shoulders before they'll let you through.

I have to confess: going to the Pope's personal chapel was a little intimidating. The Sistine Chapel blew me away. It was incredible to imagine Michelangelo painting the story of creation on these walls all while up on his scaffolding where he slept, ate and painted for four years. Now that's what I call dedication.

Well, that and my newfound dedication to gelato. I've fallen madly in love. What am I going to do? And where can I buy bigger pants?