Those of you who know me, know that I’m not a morning person. The thought of getting up early (for whatever reason) is something to be avoided – unless lives are at risk or the end of the world is nigh.

Having said that, there is a brief period of time at the start of every holiday on the other side of the world when waking early is inevitable. It’s that 2 or 3 days when jetlag is ruling your life and waking at 3am with an overiding urger to eat dinner is the norm.

A few years ago we were in Rome when this short period was affecting us so – for the first time I can recall – I was up and out with a camera and tripod in Rome at 4am waiting for enough light to take some shots . Unlike other major world cities like Tokyo and New York, Rome sleeps at night. So the only people up at that time were newspaper delivery men, the occasional taxi driver and the even more occasional polizia – and me.

It was eerily quiet and I could hear my footsteps echoing off the building walls as I walked.

Within a few minutes of our hotel were the Spanish Steps and Piazza Babarini, both completely devoid of life, an amazing contrast with the rest of the day when they are full of tourists with struggling locals trying to make their way through the crowds.