I got to the apartment at 9.35pm, and two minutes later all the bells started ringing. Was it somethin' I said?

Seriously, had a great time - I got out just as the world, his padre and his ancient auntie all descended - the queue to see the old feller's corpse was over 5 miles long, ten abreast by that time, snaking back down to the backstreets around the Tiber.

Me, I spent loads of time surveying much older and nobler traditions of the city. The port of Ostia is really extraordinary - to step into an ancient city so well preserved that you can imagine the fish on the counter in the fish market, the drinks on the marble counter of a bar...

And the Romans themselves are as pragmatic as ever: was it going to be a problem getting a meal at 10 o'clock on a Saturday night when the Pope had just died? "No problem at all", said the larger than life waiter, adding with a nonchalent shrug "he was an old man. Now I can do you a wonderful dish to start, with baby shrimps and little pieces of calamari and some delicate pasta...!" It was a fabulous start to a stay in a city I think I love even more than Paris.