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What gets me fuming? The bloody catfishers! Some bloke says he’s 6’2, ripped, turns up looking like a soggy chip. Wankers! Then there’s the happy bit – when ya actually score a decent shag. Surprised me first time, thought, “Blimey, this ain’t a scam?” Felt like I’d won the sodding lottery. But the dick pics – oh, spare me! Every tosser thinks he’s Picasso with a phone. “Here’s me knob!” Cheers, mate, I’m scarred for life.

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After that, I decide to grab lunch at a little trattoria on Via Chiodo. I order some trofie al pesto, and let me tell you, it’s like a party in my mouth. I’m savoring every bite, and then this old man at the next table starts chatting me up. He’s telling me stories about La Spezia during WWII, and I’m just sitting there, wide-eyed. It’s wild how much history is packed into this city. But then he starts talking about his cat, and I’m like, “Okay, buddy, I’m out.” Cats are cool, but not that cool.

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