(Apologies for the time this post will take to load - don’t have the facilities to shrink files and I’ve been given strict instructions to post photos.)

So, once upon a time I had less regard for my self-preservation. This is no longer the case. From time to time I shit myself I can get a little claustrophobia and a little afraid of heights. Needless to say I’m also not nearly as fit as I used to be.

So I was feeling pretty good this morning. Out and about in Rome on my own and naturally the first stop was St Peters. As it was Sunday I had the great fortune of hearing a sermon from the pope. All was well, I’d been inside the Basilica, I’d seen Pope John Paul II’s tomb (which smelt like old mop) and there was just one more thing to go, the Cupola. Sweet action. I paid my 4 Euro and started climbing the 520 stairs. No Sweat, ok maybe a little, but all was fine. Came out into the dome, saw Michelangelo’s paintings etc and the proceeded to the next door which I knew was to the balcony. As I was standing in the dome I assumed that I had climbed all 520 stairs and that I would simply walk out onto the balcony for a 360 degree view of Rome. No such luck. Turns out that I was only about 200 stairs up and the following 320 were seriously fucked.

For a start, they obviously didn’t build them for the broader man such as myself – my shoulders touched each wall. This doesn’t help the claustrophobia. Secondly, They built them FUCKING steeply, and in a spiral so that your peripheral vision was always one of a vertical drop until the steep marble stairs broke your fall and every bone in your body. Enter fear of heights.

Half way along there was a landing with a red button marked “SOS”. People have died on these stairs, the law of averages, over 1500 years, dictates this. The last section of stairs actually had a rope. Now I know they built this a long time ago but if you need a rope to climb the stairs it, is too steep - at least that’s my basic rule of thumb. Was it worth it? Judge for your self:

Now for my decent. As anyone who isn’t good with heights will know, this is at the back of your mind the entire accent. So down I go, letting a young family go in front so that someone would break my fall no one was behind me to see me shitting myself. Great plan. Except for the fact that this smart arsed little kid pretended to fall EVERY SINGLE STAIR. This also doesn’t help with one’s fear of heights. Then to make matters worse the fucking bitch mum stops, turns around and take a photo – three or four times. Yes, they were American. So in some American town somewhere there are a happy family reliving their trip to Rome and looking though their photos they see a picture of Father and Son gaily descending some very steep stairs and behind them is a pale Australian who you can see is trembling but with a look in his eyes like he’s about to test out just how dangerous these stairs are by pushing a kid down them.

…and Theo, why would you want to go to a place full of Tuk Tuks when you can find one of these on every corner:

(Apparently laws have been passed so that Fiat 500 don’t have to conform to emission laws as they are a national heritage item for Italians)

Ciao