My cousin Moishe owned one of the biggest and fastest-growing businesses in North West London, a furniture store.

I convinced him that he needed to take a trip to Italy to check out the merchandise himself and because he was still single, he could check out all the hot Italian women, and maybe get lucky.

As Moishe was checking into a hotel, he struck up an acquaintance with a beautiful young lady. She only spoke Italian and he only spoke English, so neither understood a word the other spoke.

He took out a pencil and a notebook and drew a picture of a taxi. She smiled, nodded her head and they went for a ride in the park. Later, he drew a picture of a table in a restaurant with a question mark and she nodded, so they went to dinner. After dinner he sketched two dancers and she was delighted. They went to several nightclubs, drank champagne, danced and had a glorious evening. It had gotten quite late when she motioned for the pencil and drew a picture of a four-poster bed.

Moishe was dumbfounded, and to this day remarks to me that he's never been able to understand how she knew he was in the furniture business.