QUEER VADIS

Sightseeing is a bit difficult when you've last night blind-drunkeness to limit your vision. On our second day of Rome the wall-to-wall landmarking was overwhelming, and it hurt my head even more. We walked down past The San Carlo Quttro Fontine, the small Carloni Basilica beside it, and then past the president's gaff - at the Quirinale - which looked like it was being guarded by the village people. Two pink-lipped cartoonish sailors flanked either side of the buildings colossal doors and had some prancing traffic-cop types giving me the eye in a highly violating manner. It was enough to wake you up, and I could feel my buttocks clenching guardedly when one shiny guard came close. Italian men, I pointed out to Kim, are better looking than the women and that's just wrong. Well-preened smooth-skinned adonises with crotch-hugging designer clobber, affectionately touching people of both sexes, is enough to make you nervous or else go on the turn. Not me though, I likes me Italian women soft-jawed and me Italian men all looking like Super Mario.

A coffee by the Trevi fountain was all the perk I needed. We sat there recharging our batteries, and the cowherd of tourists filed past us, flowing down the cobbled streetlet like water. Some of this Trevi-fountain run-off would flow into the plethora of souvenir-shops, collecting all sorts of made-in-china debree along the way. We watched as the shopkeeper of one of these across the way broke out into song, her voice lifting over the hissy mono of her stereo, oblivious to our bemusement. We owed her a little rummage around her shop at least, if only to catch her rendition of the next track. We didn't buy anything though. We're cheap like that.

With the Pantheon and the Chiesa di sant Maria Sopra Minerva under our belts Something caught my eye then, as we passed the Templo Adriano. A calendar of pin-up priests sat at one of the souvenir stands, each month of the year looking more ruggedly divine than the last. Maybe I was dizzy with the gayness of the place, but I had to buy it. If you had been there, you would've too. When Kim and I got back to Cork, we'd give it to Jacqui, who we're pretty sure has a secret penchant for men who look like gay priests. The best present ever.