In Italy, to do competitive sports, you have to get a medical certificate for "Agonistico".
I miss very little about England, but one thing that is a bonus is simply signing a form that effectively says "yes, I'd love to join your gym and if I break my spine doing martial arts or lifting weights while in it, then I accept it's 100% my fault".
The Judo club I've joined let me do 2 lessons without the form but made it clear that for regular attendance, I absolutely had to get one. They had pre-printed cards for a local doctor who offered the service so I made an appointment for the following Monday.
When I got there a friendly guy named Claudio introduced himself and there were a lot of Judo photos on his office wall.
"You did Judo?"
"Used to" he replied, while attaching sensors to my chest and back to monitor heart rate.
"My Dad used to teach Judo. He was a black belt. He taught the British champion Neil Adams when Neil was a little boy".
Claudio's eyes open wide and he says "I met Neil. When he fought Ezio Gamba in the Judo final of the 1980 Olympic Games, I was the Italian team's medic. Good fight. Ezio won and Neil got silver".
"Christ! Small world!"
After the test is over (me cycling on an exercise bike and getting my blood pressure taken) he signs me as fit for fighting and I notice the books on his desk...apparently written by him.
"You an author?"
"I try yes".
"Me too, I've self-published 19 books".
His eyes widen again and I show him my channel on Amazon on the phone.
He then says "Tell you what, bring in one of your books and I'll swap you for one of mine".
"I've written in different genres. Magical fantasy, memoirs, short stories. I used to be a police officer. You want that one?"
He nods. "Yes, sounds interesting".
A week later I returned and we signed our books and got his receptionist to take a photo.
Small world indeed.