There was a vast ascent of steps, vast not only in extent—they seemed to go straight up to the sky—but vast in width. You could have marched a company up them in line abreast, and very appropriate, for they were donkey steps, the rise small, the step wide as wide, or perhaps the correct architectural term would be deep as deep. So up I went, brother ass protesting for all that he had these specially constructed steps for his convenience, until I reached the flat space in front of the main door of the huge building. It was the west door and it’s just possible I suppose that what happened after that couldn’t have happened in any other place but who can tell? There was an ancient lady sitting outside the central door of three on a rush chair and spinning a fine thread. No, she wasn’t one of the Fates, she was an ancient lady put there to see that none of the tourists who visited the place every ten years or so had a camera with him. Why? They don’t like pics and very right and proper too. It was a change to find people who know as I do that a pic takes something away from you, so I spoke my best broken Italian to her, assuring her that I wasn’t the sort of man to carry a machina photographica round with me. But she quite clearly didn’t understand, speaking nothing but whatever it is they speak in the island. However to show willing I pointed at the plume of smoke on the horizon and raised my eyebrows, whereat she started crossing herself, all rhythm of spinning interrupted.

“Volcano!”

She knew that word all right. Well, at least it wasn’t the bomb. A pretty place I’ve been led to, I thought to myself, it’s ho for those homely motor roads, Wilf, when the ferry comes back and be damned to Rick and Halliday and their Mafia. So in I went and it was very, very dark, even for a church.

That was when I realized I still had my outsize sunglasses on; and I inferred from that they’d been in position for some days even when sitting on the side of the bed, or possibly dreaming. It was odd, standing inside the kind of preliminary wooden box between the inner and outer door to consider that it also implied I hadn’t washed for some time. So I took them off, pushed open the inner door and sidled in.

It was a cathedral all right because I could see the cathedra. I took a step or two forward, glancing round and I saw at once that the glass wasn’t worth a second glance. I went forward a bit more, noting that the roof was the best bit as the spandrels were full of quite early mosaic. Mosaic is like glass—the earlier the better. I took a step or two forward, thinking that I’d case the joint quickly then concentrate on the good bits, when a piece of mosaic fell at my feet with the day’s last shake.