When In Rome.

I guess that this post carries on from the last. A tale of murder, missing persons and tragedy. But this tale switches between the UK and Italy, and so it was, for the past few days, i have been filming for the Italian broadcaster RAI, filming a mini documentary about the case. Working for the Italians proved to be an experience, as i soon learned that they have a very different way of doing things.

For example, they don't seem to get the notion of private property. I had to stop my reporter on numerous occasions from just wandering into someones garden, or even into the rear of the courtroom when he found an open door. Many other Italian news crews had been dispatched from Italy for the story, and myself and the other UK crews watched in astonishment as their cameramen attempted to walk into court, with cameras rolling, arms waving and voices loud.

Police officers were placed at various points, and we gave apologetic glances towards each other as we attempted to explain to them that this was just not cricket, not the done thing old boy. The differences in media culture was quite breathtaking to me and the others, but it was fun nonetheless, as we watched them roaming around looking for a place to infiltrate.

My Italian journalist Walter, (pictured following a long lunch) however, was a long standing respected journalist of the old school, and once i had explained to him that this is how we do it, respected my limits placed upon him, and made the most of what was available. However i was alarmed when he returned from court with his mobile phone, a smile plastered all over his face and a knowing smile. I, for one, didn't ask what he had done, or what i think he had done. I didn't want to know.

There is a saying over here that when in Rome, do as the Romans do. It would appear however, that Romans do as they damn well please.