Yesterday we landed in Sardinia. Today we're in Rome.

In fact I am writing this from a cafe just around the corner from St Peter's Square but that doesn't tell the story of my afternoon.

While the rest of the family explored the Vatican I hailed a passing taxi and uttered the immortal words:

"Take me to the nearest Apple Store!"

Twenty-five kilometres later the driver pulled off the Napoli bound motorway and pointed to a large out-of-town shopping centre.

All I could see was an enormous sign that read 'Ikea' and a smaller one that said 'Porta da Roma'.

"Stay here!" I pleaded. "I need you to take me back to St Peter's Square in 15 minutes." And I held up ten fingers.

"The bus," I gabbled, "leaves at four and if I miss it I'll miss the boat which is two hours away and my family will never speak to me again."

He looked at me. "Sorry," he said, "my English isn't so good."

"Don't move," I replied before jumping out of the car and running - yes, running - towards the shopping complex.

"Apple Store?" I asked the first person I saw. He shrugged his shoulders and walked on.

I continued to run.

And then I saw it. The word 'Apple' next to the famous logo and a small arrow pointing south. The Apple Store must be on a lower floor.

I flew down the escalator and there it was, right in front of me.

I ran in and grabbed the first available assistant.

"Quick," I said. "I need a charger for a MacBook Pro with Retinal Display and I need it now. A taxi is waiting outside to take me back to St Peter's Square ..."

He took me to the far end of the store. Pointing to the top shelf, he signalled that he couldn't reach and went off on search of assistance.

Back he came with a footstool. Standing on it he reached up, found what he was looking for and handed me a MagSafe Power Adaptor for MacBook Pro.

"No, no, no," I said. "I bought that in Seville three days ago and it doesn't fit my laptop. I need a MagSafe 2 Power Adaptor for MacBook Pro with Retinal Display. They've changed the socket and the adaptor and no-one told me. Or you, it seems!"

He went to fetch a supervisor. They returned together.

"You are right," he said in broken English. "Here is the new charger."

And he handed me a small white box. Forget the Trevi Fountain or the Colosseum. This was the most beautiful thing I had seen all day.

I gave him my credit card, entered the PIN number, took my card and ran out of the store, up the escalator and back to the taxi where the driver was waiting patiently.

That was the last patient thing he did because he drove back to St Peter's Square like James Bond.

The round trip cost me €79 for the charger and €75 for the taxi but for reasons I won't bore you with (it has something to do with the Hands Off Our Packs campaign) it was worth every euro.

More later. I've a bus and then a ship to catch.