THE air here is thick - as they say, there is something transcendental about it.
But this is the Vatican - the holiest city in the world.
But why am I here? "That's what they all ask," an official laughs as he whisks me along the corridors.
I've only been in the City of God for a half an hour and already I can feel awe. It is all about this old place.
I'm here, of course, because of certain seismic events that you might just have heard about.
It's not often a Pope retires while still alive - in fact, it's been many lifetimes, but there you have it in a nutshell.
The air is thick in this holy place. My aide, Carltino Rossi, is charming - and very handsome!
He chuckles as I scribble notes on my office iPad. "Have you an app for this?" he beams.
I say I don't know what he means and he laughs some more.
I ask him who'll be the next Pope: "Who'll be the next Pope, do you think?" I question him.
He points, in a tantalising fashion, upwards. I tell him I don't understand. He laughs.
Later we share a coffee on a stunning veranda. I think we are becoming friends now that I have begun to win over his trust.
The art in the buildings is spellbinding - no Damien Albarn here! - and I pass comments on it.
Finally my new friend is serious: "It's time to go."
And so it is. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what others think. Here in the Land of God, all that matters is what you or I think (if we're here).