His right foot

Since I began writing books the family’s travels have been moulded by my research. In 2013 we went to the US and Canada, our itinerary inspired by the lives of Franklin Delano and Eleanor Roosevelt. This year it’s a six-week tour of Europe where we’re following in the footsteps of Mary Godwin and Percy Bysshe Shelley. Recently, however, our activities have been dictated by Chris’s right foot. 

Chris has gout, you see. The extremely painful condition was brought on by dehydration from our flight to Rome and alcohol consumption during four days in Italy. Chris's big toe swelled to twice its normal size. Red, bloated and with the skin stretched taut, it reminded me of one of the salamis hanging from the rafters in our local salumeria. Although he could barely squash his foot into a shoe, he hobbled to a doctor who prescribed a strong anti-inflammatory, rest and temporary sobriety.

Chris has been feeling blue since his toe turned red...

Since then our Roman holiday has been somewhat nobbled, and not just because of the sobriety part. I feel incredibly sorry for Chris. The weather has been beautiful – cold and clear – and the city is buzzing with a cheerful and relaxed atmosphere that I only ever feel at Christmas time. I’d be devastated to have to stay off my feet and indoors when everything is happening only metres below our apartment. Apart from Christmas night and my birthday when Chris (wearing one enclosed shoe and one Birkenstock sandal) managed to struggle to the top of Castel Sant’Angelo, it’s been just me and the boys living la dolce vita which, despite my initial misgivings, has been fun.

Nice footwear!

Sam has been a star, pushing the stroller and taking care of Benny when I have to order in a café, purchase tickets at a museum or go to the toilet when we’re out and about. He’s also been extremely good company and when he’s not discussing soccer he shares some humorous and fresh insights into Italian culture and habits. A nine-year-old notices everything. 

Sam is amused, Ben is bemused...

Sam also considers it extremely entertaining when I am constantly spotted for an English speaker despite my courageous attempts at Italian. My lingual skills have become honed at the farmacia where I’ve had to enquire about all kinds of different anti-inflammatory pills, gels and ointments. Yet, the chemist always responds in English.

On Boxing Day we discovered a playground (a public amenity, like toilets, in which Rome is severely lacking) in Trastevere that we’ve since visited twice. 

Finally, a castle Ben appreciates

We’ve been taken by the gentle tide of people moving towards Piazza del Popolo on Christmas night and then, yesterday, towards the Colosseum. 

Coming home from the Colosseum

This morning we climbed the Aventine Hill and played soccer with oranges in the aptly named ‘Orange Garden’ then peeked through the keyhole in the doorway that leads to the Priory of the Knights of Malta – the legendary crusaders and religious order. Although it seems like something from a Dan Brown novel, the peephole offers a perfect vista of the skyline with St Peter’s Basilica at the centre. Whether this is due to artful design or just lucky coincidence, no one can say.

Sam lifts Benny up to the magical peephole

Chris’s right foot seems to be healing. We’re hoping he might see daylight tomorrow. Fingers and toes crossed.

Our favourite photo