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Tuesday 27th April 2010

The Italian tastes in food and drink are so close to my own that I wonder if the whole country has been set up to cater just for me. Pizza, pasta, parma ham, cheese, bread, coffee, beer, ice cream, balsamic vinegar.. the list goes on and it is a list, that exactly correlates to the list of my favourite foodstuffs. It's lucky I am only here for four days or they would have to roll me on to the plane like a beach ball. I think the coincidence is so great that they should rename Italy as "Richard Herring Food Land" and hopefully one day they will as that will surely increase my chances of not only being buried in the Pantheon, but for that to happen sooner rather than later.
It's great to find a country that equates so exactly to your personal tastes.
Hopefully all the walking I did today will help compensate for the over-indulgences. We were on our feet and walking around for about seven hours, making our way (after a long diversion due to turning down the wrong road and failing to bring my guide book with me) down to the forum and the Colosseum, both of which I have visited a few times, but which are nonetheless always magical experiences for me. Only marred slightly by the usual groups of school children and elderly French people who seemed to have no regard for anyone but themselves and barged into us at regular intervals without so much as a "pardon".
It started to rain lightly and as if from nowhere dozens of men holding umbrellas arrived, trying to sell them to the barely damp tourists. Where had they been lurking until then? Were they hiding in bushes with a box of umbrellas waiting for the rain? Or had they been selling something else and then felt rain on their skin and changed tack? Where did they keep their produce? And was there really enough business to keep so many men in work?
As it was it was only drizzling and I suspected that few people took them up on their offer. But I find all the people trying to make a living around tourism quite fascinating. A few men had little stalls set up which only sold various sized tripods for cameras. Was there really enough demand to justify more than one man selling this very specific item? Did enough people come out without a tripod and then think to themselves, I wish I could take a photo without having to hold the camera, if only I had a tripod... oooh look at the choice!" Or did these men just make a good living swiping people's tripods and then selling them on quickly in the street?
There were also several guys dressed up as Roman soldiers who were, I presume, trying to encourage tourists to pay to have their photo taken with them. They were probably out of work actors and I suppose if they lived in London they would work in the London Dungeon, but these Italian men were more reliant on passing trade - and maybe there were more people willing to pay for this service, but I enjoyed the fact that these centurions were smoking and talking on mobile phones as they waited to get a bite. Which is hardly authentic.
I was exhausted by the end of the day and am indeed stricken with a predictable post-tour cold, but determined to enjoy myself in spite of this. Last night we had spent 16 euros buying two beers in a restaurant, but this evening we bought three for under three euros at a local Spar store (which is called Despar in Italy, which is satisfyingly close to being called Despair) so it felt like a victory for tourists.
But with the poor exchange rate between the pound and the euro everything is dispiritingly expensive. It's incredible to think I paid £15 for two 33cl bottles of lager.
And another sign that I am increasingly middle-aged that I feel the need to comment on it.
Incidentally there are some convenient links to my audio book extract on my How Not To Grow Up page and the book is now only £6.99 at Amazon. Good to see the price plummeting even before the thing is available! Should be in the shops next week. How very exciting.

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