Super Holy Thursday, Batman!

My lab mate, Amelia - in her best American accent, relayed an amusing anecdote regarding one of my native countrymen in Rome, who upon taking a picture of The Pope and declared, loudly of course, "Oh, yeah! There's the money shot. I got the money shot." She was supposed to accompany me down to the CBD to see his papalness, but ducked out at the last minute with some flimsy excuse about her sister-in-law having a baby. Really, I don't see how she was supposed to help with that, other than by supporting her parents and running interference with the Italian in-laws, but, whatever.

The city streets were eerily devoid of pilgrims as I hopped a bus toward Circular Quay, which was fine by me as I have pretty much had my fill of them. Armed with a map of the planned motorcade route, I soon caught up to the cheery crowds of flag-swinging, hymn-singing revelers. The award for 'most enthusiastic' clearly belongs to the Italians, who could be heard yelling 'Ciao! Bella! Ciao!' to every passing group of female pilgrims, all of whom responded with flattered giggles of rapture. Surveying my map, I quickly developed a plan.

The Brooklyn Hotel has a spectacular bank of bar stool lined windows facing directly onto George Street along the papal passage. I staked out a comfortable location and quickly established a beer barrier between me and the pilgrims outside, liquid protection from mutual annoyance. The bar staff had been unaware of the fortuitousness of their location and scrambled to accommodate the unexpected crowds that soon filled the pub.

The motorcade was expected to pass at approximately four o'clock. By 3:45, the pub was buzzing with eager anticipation. By 4:00, everyone began to crowd near the windows. By 4:15, the wise cracks started cracking. More rounds were ordered. By 4:30, people began taking hurried but unavoidable trips to the toilet. More rounds were ordered. By 4:45, a feeling of drunken camaraderie engulfed the pub. More rounds were ordered. At 5:00, flashing blue and red lights were seen on the approach leading out of The Rocks. Everyone hoisted their camera, mobile phones, or their drinks in salute as the Popemobile came into view around a curve. A slightly irreverent cheer erupted as the motorcade roared past at speeds which would normally earn a motorist a rather hefty fine on this portion of George Street. And then it was over.

I had debated long and hard whether I should take a movie or a still shot. Worried that a movie might be too shaky and blurry, I opted for one good still shot.

The Money Shot:

I burst into hysterical laughter when I reviewed the image. All that hype, all that anticipation, all that beer. Actually, I rather like my abstract bit of papal photography. I think it nicely captures the dynamic nature of the event. However, I doubt I will be able to sell it to any tabloid newspapers.