For some reason when I get served a scone on a plane it really heightens the unreality of what is going on. It just seems so inappropriate to be eating a cream tea thousands of feet above the ground and it makes the idea of flight seem ludicrous and impossible. The juxtaposition makes me laugh and it makes me scared. It's not natural to be eating a scone so high up. And yet it somehow makes the scone all the more delicious. The sheer decadence of it all is what gets to me I suppose. Having a sandwich or an unpleasant prepared meal seems fair enough, but the fact that someone has decided to bring scones, jam and clotted cream into space is nonsensical and weird. I don't eat many cream teas, in fact I have done so three times in the last ten years and two of them were high up in the air above some foreign land.
I can't quite explain why it's so odd, but it's always the moment that I question the possibility of flight and think that the plane will be forced to plummet to the ground through the cold logic that no one should ever be eating a scone at 35,000 feet. Perhaps that's it. No one could have anticipated that the invention of flight would lead to this, to something so sedate and middle-class. When I eat scones or drink champagne in an aeroplane I always wonder what my grandad would think of me. Any one of those things would have been quite a big deal for him and here I am, doing all three, with only a vague inkling that what I am doing is against god and nature.
I was on my way to Rome, of course, and having taken advantage of a late cut price upgrade I was desperately trying to ensure I consumed £80 worth of extra stuff to show that my extravagance had been worth it. On such a short haul flight the extra leg space is not a big deal, but it was pretty cool to have escaped the horribly busy airport and been allowed into the British Airways lounge. I thought about filling my bag with £80 worth of Kettle crisps just so I was up on the deal. Alas I had too much self-respect to do so, but made sure I drank as much diet coke as possible. I think it was worth the extra money just about, just to turn a stressful situation into a calmer one. And this was the same price it had cost me to buy my second ticket to York when I missed my train the other week.
No one else seemed as intent to take advantage of the "free" stuff as me. I am glad I still have the mind set of a teenager.
We arrived in the centre of Rome at about 6.30 and had a quick walk around. I have been here a few times before, but I am always blown away by this beautiful and historical city.
We popped into the Pantheon just as it was closing and it's incredible to think that this is a Roman building which has been in use now for almost two millennia. Apparently, so my guide book claims, the bronze doors are the original Roman ones. That just blows my tiny mind. As much as eating a scone in the sky would blow the mind of a Roman. Well maybe not quite as much as that.
The Pantheon is a domed building with a big circular hole in the roof, which is there to show the connection between earth and the heavens, and it's cool to look up and see the clouds going by, but is now, perversely in my opinion, a Christian place of worship. But if the Christians hadn't appropriated it then I suppose it might not be here any more. And it's silly to be nostalgic for one wrong religion over another.
Raphael is buried in the Pantheon too, which meant I could make an excellent Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles joke to my girlfriend. I think it's what Raphael would have wanted. But really I love being so close to history and to actual historical figures. I told my girlfriend that it was my ambition to be buried in the Pantheon. She told me I had some serious work to do with the rest of my life if I was going to get there. But there's a couple of alcoves that are all faded and don't seem to be being used for anything so I am hopeful my ambition might be fulfilled. I hope you will all petition the relevant authorities once I am gone.
We drank beer and ate pizzas in the square later, whilst a man sang some operatic hits to a gathering crowd. This is a magical and beautiful city and it's great to be back. Though obviously having relaxed for the first time all year I have the beginnings of a sore throat and cold. But fuck it. I'm not buried in the Pantheon yet.
