Ok so I went to Rome one year to celebrate New Year and ended up having a few beers in the Pantheon Square. It was just in time for the fireworks – I was with a group of slackpackers and we were all lost. By some magic, we wended our way down a narrow back street and came out into the icy square.  Unfortunately it was very icy, and I slipped over. Landing awkwardly (please read drunkenly) I ended up in search of an osteopath.

Of course, I couldn’t find one straight away, I had to sit the pain out in the bars that edged the Pantheon Square. Luckily, these bars stocked a range of tasty alcoholic beverages and this, it transpired, helped the pain immensely. I still needed an osteopath, but I was contented with the dull ache in my back.

I think I should point out that in one of these bars I saw an Italian who looked just like Tony Montana. He was just sitting by the bar staring like a ganster at the footie on tv. I love Tony Montana, I want to marry him.

Next day, I managed to drag myself to an Italian osteopath with the assistance of a friend who was bi-lingual. I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be seen – as were lots of other injured revellers it seemed. We had to wait ages, but eventually we were called in to get my back sorted out.

When I walked into the osteopath room (what do you call it?) I was amazed by the osteopath who filled my field of view; it was none other than Tony Montana from the bar!!!

My friend managed to explain my situation and Tony set to work on my back. He did a great job and didn’t even put a cap in my ass. Goodbye.