Goin' bananas for il papa
How I (narrowly) avoided getting slapped by the pope
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In February we were in Rome, it was my first ever visit to the Eternal City on which I had no professional commitments. Previous stays had always been part of a tour with one or other of the performance projects to which I dedicated my twenties, and so had usually involved 2am showtimes and crashing four to a bed out in Pigneto. This trip however was on…
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