Last week, over the Otto Dicembre long weekend, I spent a fantastic time with my family in Rome. The weather was great. The food was great (what else in Italy) - not the normal run of the mill food, but maialino, abbachio and so on. The sightseeing was tremendous - the Colosseo, the Vatican museums and the Cappella Sistina (all for the umpteenth time on my part) were fascinating, and the greatest pleasure was enjoying with my children what they were clearly enjoying and absorbing. We had first class guides on all occasions. "Ma Roma bella!" I will return time and time again with the same gusto. But now on to other things.

Unfortunately, my Rome sojourn meant that I missed a number of important functions, ranging from the launching of Inservi, the inauguration of Pjazza San Ġorġ (aptly named for our Minister for Rural Affairs!), the Malta Olympic Committee Annual Awards (where my good friend Charles Mock - on my recommendation, if I may say - was deservedly inducted into the Hall of Fame) and (last but not least) what must have been a jolly good 50th birthday party - will not mention names.

As I wrote already, Eddie Fenech Adami's Inservi has been published and launched. I say with great pride that I have been privileged not only to write in this marvellous compendium of writings but to know the statesman ever his since his election as Nationalist Party leader in 1977.

I have also been privileged to enjoy his confidence, when he appointed me as a member of the Broadcasting Authority (not to mention his sanctioning of my roles as chairman of Posta Ltd and PBS Ltd). In 1981, on the anniversary of Giorgio Borg Oliver's death, Dr Fenech Adami approached me at the Addolorata cemetery and asked me whether I would head the news desk ("head" - actually I was alone) of the "clandestine" TV station Ritchie Muscat was to launch in Sicily. I was then just about to graduate as a lawyer, but my instinct in journalism could not resist. I said yes without hesitation.

They were three months of stress and hard work. I would communicate by means of telex at the time. Day in, day out, Ritchie would receive my communications, picked up from the news sources of Independence Print (better known as L-Istamperija), where I shared an office with Charles Callus, then Editor of the (now defunct) The Democrat, I believe.

Those were courageous times indeed. Many would cross over to Sicily, acting as couriers, to deliver the required "news reels" to Ritchie for broadcasting - at least until the Socialist regime (read Labour Party) exerted enough pressure on the Sicilian local authorities to close the station down. I must also declare that I was paid (no handsome sum) to do the job and this enabled me to finance my fiancée's engagement ring at least 50 per cent of the way. But I must also mention many persons who would work (literally 24 hours a day) to keep the voice of hope going above the Socialist regime - Mannie Spiteri, Louis Portelli, Mario Ascione, Larry Calleja and so many others.

But back to Inservi. I took part in a TV programme last week where we dwelled on Dr Fenech Adami's career, with the book in the background, of course. It is remarkable that, with the greatest sincerity and honesty, there was very little that we could fault him on. The tributes that were showered on him in Inservi go a long way to vouching for this. In concluding my participation in the programme, and after hearing the comments collated from a "vox pop" of attendees in the book launch, I said that I found two common themes describing Eddie Fenech Adami - values and courage. I will add "faith".

And I will move on to describe another important incident which reflects Dr Fenech Adami's perseverance. Peter Nichols (now deceased, God rest his soul), long time correspondent of The Times (London) in Rome and expert on Vatican affairs - going back to Rome! - which The Times I represent as correspondent in Malta - came over to Malta during the dark days of the Socialist regime and wanted to interview the Leader of the Opposition. I arranged a meeting at my house. It was a secret meeting. One would not dare having something like this become public during the days of the regime.

I remember meeting Eddie at the PN Mosta club, then taking him to my home, and Eddie and Peter meeting in my courtyard, where I cooked them a barbeque dinner, but then kept away, as they discussed. A sign of the times. So much more to recollect. Perhaps a biography some time?!