I need learn the words "artificial leg" in every major European language.

The entrance to the press centre is guarded by armed carabinieri and airport-style scanners. The metal in my prosthesis sets the metal detectors off, causing the cops to reach twitchily for their handguns.

"Artificiale" I say in an Italian-sounding accident while pointing to my right trouser leg. I have no idea whether "artificiale" is Italian for "false" but it sounds like it might be.

The carabinieri look at me suspiciously. They're clearly not convinced.

I hitch my trousers up a few inches to try to prove to them that my leg really is artificiale.

It seems to work. The cops emit a dismissive grunt and wave me through.

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