Peter Rhodes on trans coincidences, mumbling Yanks and a curious tale of electing a pope
It is a well known fact that when you reach 50, everybody else starts to mumble.
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Especially Americans. If you find yourself confused by Donald Trump and his aides describing his holiday-resort plan for Gaza, the status of Hamas or global trade sanctions, it's probably because they pronounce the words tourists, terrorists and tariffs exactly the same.
Pope Francis dies, the quest for his successor begins and I'm reminded of a curious moment when his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, was chosen.
It was in April 2005 and we were on holiday on Italy's Lake Garda as the world waited for the puff of white smoke which would indicate a new pope had been elected. We were following the news on BBC and CNN in the hotel, their cameras focused on the Vatican chimney.
And then, quite suddenly and several seconds before any smoke was reported, church bells in Riva del Garda began ringing joyously.
