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For the next few weeks, Jack Sh*t is chronicling his adventures on his recent trip to Italy as well as including tips to help you plan your own international travel. It is his special way of saying "Nanna nanna boo boo, I went to Italy!" to all his loyal readers.

 Chalk it up to travel-madness.

My wife Anita and I get the really helpful dude at our hotel front desk to draw us a map to direct us on the 5-minute walk to where we're supposed to meet our tour that includes viewing “The Last Supper.”

After wandering around for 20 minutes or so, we make our way back to our hotel and get the really helpful dude to explain it one more time, while shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I wish his English was terrible so I can blame our terrible ability to follow simple directions on him, but he speaks my native tongue better than I do.

We wander around again for another 25 minutes, and now we’re in serious jeopardy of missing our tour bus. We’ve been walking up and down the same block over and over, and the addresses seem to make no sense at all. Plus, there’s not a street sign to be seen anywhere.

We finally flag down another tour operator, who directs us around the corner to a place WITH A GIANT FREAKIN’ SIGN that we walked past SIX OR SEVEN TIMES.

With only moments to spare before we get left behind, we hop on the tour bus and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Phew,” I say. “Otherwise, we’d have had to go see “The Next-to-Last Supper.”