The Hughes School of Motoring attempts Rome

Nov 24, 2014

school of motoring

Having got through the plane journey from The Hughes School of Motoring although, not entirely without hitch as, when having seated myself, a tendency towards OCD made me check ( for about the 50th time ) that my passport was still in the new bumbag, specially bought for the trip to Rome. These genius inventions might be fine for walking around the city, but fumbling to find the right compartment whilst awaiting take off on a Ryan Air Flight is not something to be recommended if, like me, the leg room issue is already beginning to cause anxiety.


This was not helped when said pass port was no longer to be found in my wonderful new little  bag. Having struggled to remove the thing, I was mortified to ask the couple alongside me if they would mind removing their seatbelts and standing up to check if my passport had inadvertently made its way onto one of their seats.


After much huffing and puffing and disapproving looks, they reluctantly agreed, but to no avail did the pass port materialise. I told them not to worry about it, though I cannot explain why for the life of me now, and said blithely that I was sure I would find it. To which the reply was a most curt, ‘I think you better had do!’


As the plane took of, I desperately felt down the side of the seat and lo and behold, there it was. I smiled towards the couple and told them I’d found it after all, but they didn’t seem to want to know me by this stage. Indeed, the chap sat with his head down in his hoodie for most of the journey but that could have been the turbulence. I like to think it was, anyway.


Just in case you think I’m making this up, my piece de resistance was forgetting my cushion on the plane after landing and having to run back across the runway to retrieve it.


So, it’s fair to say that me an airports don’t work too well together when going to Rome ( even under supervision from my nephew ).


Neither did my mobile, which decided it wouldn’t let me make outgoing calls whilst out of the UK. Believe me, that caused bother on some scale and I have written a little about it in my previous ‘blog entry.


What does work in Rome is The Vatican. I paid €20 to visit and particularly enjoyed the outdoor bit within the walls ( what one might call a courtyard ) but have to say that the rest seemed a little overrated.

The worst part for me was to see the beggars living with poverty and, at times, mutilated limbs, as they made their trade alongside the queues. These were the very people who should be in The Vatican and it worries me that such a building with all it holds, in physical and metaphorical terms, is closed to those who need it most.


I did get to be in the presence of the Pope toward the tail end of the Sunday service in San Pietro Square, however, if only to catch a glimpse of His Holiness on the screens!


Hope travails, however, because on my return, I was told by a pupil, who knows about these things than I do, that the new pope is clamping down on those within the church who take their incomes and status for granted. So, it seems there might finally  be hope for those poor souls.


Most importantly, perhaps something far greater than the church itself  and certainly than The Hughes School of Motoring was listening to my disconcertedness  from within The Walls of The Vatican after all.

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