Yes, George has been on the phone from Italy. Apparently it's 40 degrees there at the moment.
"Geez mate, " he whined, "it's hotter than...well, than -"
"George," I interrupted, "don't even think about making a Pope comparison. Remember where you are, man."
"Yes, yes," he said, "that's another thing, we're having to go to church three times a day. Four on Sundays."
"Well, if you want to belong to a club you have to abide by its rules, skipper."
"I suppose," he whined. "Listen,  all we're eating here all day, every day, is bloody pasta. You'd have thought by now they'd have got a MacDonalds or a KFC or something in the town. It's madness. There's nothing but bloody slow food. Slow food! What's that all about?"
"I suppose it's about enjoying your food, you know, savouring it."
"It's madness, it is. Hey, have you seen the cars here?"
"Last time I was there I had a Ferrari, as it happens. On road-test. A Testarossa if I remember correctly. The really fast one."
"Huh," said George, "we've got one of those Fiat Pandas, small thing that runs on diesel, and you know what, it's got to be eight years old. What is wrong with this country, mate?"
I took a deep breath. "So, is there anything you're enjoying over there then, George?"
There was silence down the phone and for a moment I thought we'd been cut off but then George blurted out, "You know you can get Neighbours on the telly."
"Oh," I said, thank God for that then."
I almost felt the air sucked down the phone line. "You joking mate! It's the worst bloody program on TV. Not only that, they've got it in Italian. Do they think I have nothing better to do than eat pasta, watch Neighbours in Italian and wait for another 40 degree bloody sun to go down. And there's no air conditioning. I can't stand three months of this! Jesus Christ! "
"George!"
"What!"
"The Pope, mate. "
"Fuck! Now I'll have to go to confession. Eight times I've been since we've been here. Eight fucking times."
"And what about the wife?"
"Don't ask. Driving me mad as usual. And all her family's here too, imagine what that's like."
"But at least you're on holiday."
"Yeah, you can have it mate. I wish I was back behind the wheel of the Commodore cruising into Maccas."