It is all a bit of a blur but I recall following a brolly at one point that was just floating, as if sent by God, unaided through the sky. Imagine my surprise when we realised we had inadvertently joined an American coach party traipsing around Florence.
Still, we saw some nice churches and the Ponte Boggio where umbrellas were in evidence.
Just as we were about to board a train to Rome someone told us that the Pope wasn't in the country and was apparently doing a tour of Britain. I must say that the papers kept very quiet about this. I was all for heading back to Blighty straight away but Pepe wanted to still go to the Vatican. He reasoned that just as all those Liverpool footballers had their houses burgled when they were playing football in Europe, now would be the perfect chance to break into the Vatican and pilfer the Catholic church's immense hoard of ancient and valuable gamps.
I left Pepe to it and got on a flight to Heathrow as soon as I could. Once I had arrived, in what seemed strangely like a third world country, it was mad dash into town to see if I could gatecrash the state banquet. Luckily my old mucker Derek Gherkins was in charge of security, playing the role of bouncer, and he let me in despite the fact I wasn't in the right cassock. He sings a mean Pie Jesu does Derek incidentally.
It was a bloody good feed and I managed to force several members of the cabinet into a corner to give them my thoughts on Bogg Society and cuts to brolly budgets. And I also gave Gnat Pee a piece of my mind wrapped in a fist about some nonsense he has been spouting in his blog - more on this later in a separate post.
Then it was onto Hyde Park for the vigil. I have seen many gigs in Hyde Park over the years and there is nothing more annoying than when a performer insists on doing new stuff that you have never heard of. Fortunately the Pope kept to the greatest hits and the crowd lapped it up. He may be stuck in the past but he knows what the faithful demand.