I sometimes argue that the best things in life come from Italy: Armani, Lamborghini, lasagne - even coffee had to go there to become a delicacy. So I went to Italy to find me a good woman. Don't laugh, I'm serious.

But my iPhone, proudly designed in California, wouldn't work in Italy. Lost in some back alley at 11pm in the middle of downtown Rome on a rented motorcycle - not having eaten for hours and having narrowly escaped a ticket for not wearing my helmet -I turned right into oncoming traffic, putting the bike on its side. (I don't know why - the belle donne had told me to turn left). I hopped back on to the bike, body and ego sore and bruised, and decided I wasn't supposed to be in Italy.