24 June, 2007
This week, Italy. Turin, to be precise - home to the Shroud of Turin (alleged to have wrapped Christ's dead body), The Italian Job (seminal 1960s English film), and me - for the next five days.
So, let's break out the conference survival kit once more. Travelling Europe is getting deceptively easy - the new regulations mean that getting from England to Italy is just a matter of quickly showing someone a passport as you walk past. This has its down-sides: it's not until I'm sitting in the back of a taxi trying to communicate with someone that speaks no English that I realise... I really am in another country.
At times like this, I also realise that the only Italian I know comes from the libretti of opera. This is handy if you need to swear your undying resolve to avenge your wronged father for the capture of his kingdom, but not so useful if you need to direct a taxi driver to a hotel in the city centre.