ROME

When most kids my age were out drinking white lightning on the corner and popping their cherries in a back alley, I would be sat in my bedroom alone trying to copy drawings and learn the techniques of Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael and all the other grand masters. So I was never the norm! I’m not now and never probably will be, but I like it that way. I can’t explain or know why art came into my life. I don’t remember anyone being into art in my family when I was growing up or anyone introducing me to it: It was just there. I use to get books from the library on the history art and I would always go back to the pages with the Renaissance. It became an addiction. I got it into my head at the age of ten that I wanted to be the next Da Vinci. I started drawing and painting everywhere. I even started to recreate a Raphael on my bedroom wall when my mum stripped the walls to redecorate only for her to cover it up again with some white rainbow patterned wallpaper from BBQ. I won’t tell you what her reaction was when I said I’d like to recreate the Sistine Chapel ceiling in my bedroom!
So because of this passion of mine I have always wanted to come to Italy as, after all it is the home of the Renaissance, and Rome is the most amazing place to start with the Vatican containing some of the best of these work of arts! We arrived in the afternoon and with not much of the day left after we had sweated our way round half of Rome in the blazing heat trying to find our hostel, we decided to go just to do the Trevi fountain. Me being the movie geek that I am, I have always had this secret desire to wade through the fountain like the seductive Anita Ekberg in La Dolce vita. In reality this is quite hard due to the one billion bloody tourists all crowded around trying to take a photo every two seconds and also there is a policeman that blows a whistle at you even if attempt to put your finger in the water. So all you are left with is throwing a coin in the water and making a wish. Mine was for all the bloody people to piss off and for me to jump into the water. Yes! That's right people! Dreams do not come true!
The Saturday was what I was most excited about: Vatican city! After reaching St Peters square after running the gauntlet of people trying to sell you a crap tour, we queued for ages to get into the Basilica only for Romany Liz to be told that her skirt was too short and me screaming at the guard as he had just let in some Russian tart with a dress that didn’t cover her arse! It went on for 5 minutes this argument! Luckily Liz had some trousers with her and I’m glad as I would never want to miss what we saw. The grandest church I have ever seen, painting after painting that I had spent so many years looking at in books and then finally, I saw it after all these years. It was as I had seen it in all those copies but only better, but at the same time it didn’t seem quite real that I was there seeing it with my own eyes. I sat there and looked up and smiled at all the those familiar faces that I sketched for all those years and knew so well and they smiled back at me like old friends and I can say for that moment in time I was truly happy.
Today we went to the old Roman ruins of which the showcase is the Colosseum. It doesn’t look half as good as it does in Gladiator! I guess that was 1,500 years ago though! We then took a tour of the Roman Forum but didn’t really pay to much attention as we were all to busy staring at our American guide, Stan’s great arse and good set of pecks, which were much more interesting!
Tomorrow we are off to Naples which I’m not to sure about, as I have heard it’s a hell hole! Well I guess you should give everything a chance!


OBSERVATIONS

• I hate tour groups! They should all be shot! Especially the Japanese as they go round like Storm troopers and all wear silly matching caps to show they are all in the same group! Why?

• Romany Liz has taken to putting olive oil on her legs to moisturise them! One word: Pikey!

• I not feeling very attractive here as Italian men do not like a woman to be taller than them and they tell you so! “You pretty but too tall. Can not marry you!” I reply I don’t like short men and they shouldn’t worry themselves! It does mean that most of the male population is out for me!

• Italian women have the most amazing talent of riding a vespa with the biggest heels and shortest mini skirts you have ever seen in your life! You go girls!