Letters from Pompeii

illustration by M. Sasek

Today was my birthday and when the post arrived with a strange parcel I wondered which of my family members it could be from. It wasn't from one of them. It was from Celeste, who is first and foremost a fan of Michael Praed (who reads the abridged audiobooks) and then of the Roman Mysteries. The parcel contained a delightfully illustrated book written in 1952: Letters from Pompeii by Wihelmina Feemster Jashemski. I already have Wilhelmina's excellent Pompeian Herbal. She was one of the excavators of Pompeii, her specialist subject being ancient gardens and plants!

I love old books which are out of print and this one about Pompeii by an expert written for kids will be one that I treasure forever. My husband heard my cries of delight and came to see what I was so excited about.

I will be dipping into this treasure box, which once graced the library of Greenwood Hills Elementary School, and I will share any special nuggets of delight or gems of wisdom. Thank you, Celeste!

Boy Entrancers in Brighton

Richard and I went to Brighton for the weekend. For several reasons:

1. To go to the house-warming party of my former publicity manager, Rowan. She has excellent taste as is proved by the fact that I easily sired her to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Also, she plays trumpet and is a vegetarian.

2. To sign some books for my Spanish dealer (erm... you know what I mean!) so that he can bring autographed copies of my books to all my new fans in Barcelona. (Both of them.)

3. To be a punter at the Brighton Festival, which is always very well done and well worth a visit.

We were staying at the exciting Sea Spray boutique hotel which actually DID have a view of the sea. It is one of those hotels with themed bedrooms. I decided the Warhol and Dali Rooms sounded too surrealistic and the Boudoir Room a bit obvious, so I chose the Moroccan Room. It was quite well done with a saffron-coloured parachute hanging from the ceiling, and Moroccan lamps and cushions and a hookah and everything. But the effect was somewhat marred by the fact that this was a tall Victorian house with narrow stairs and semi-Nazi signs on everything that said things like DO NOT PUT ANYTHING DOWN THIS TOILET AS THE PLUMBER CALL-OUT FEE IS £70. Considering that this toilet was out in the corrider and not even in our own room, I thought the £85-a-night price tag a bit steep. But, hey! this is my birthday weekend so it was a splurge...

We arrived around 6.00 on Saturday evening and saw that we could catch one of the Brighton Festival literary events – a retelling of Ovid's Metamorphoses – before we went to Rowan and Ant's party.

At the Old Market I said to the person buying tickets, 'I see Garth Nix was here earlier. Is he still in Brighton? Because I met him once at a festival in Canada and he might remember me...' Here I trailed off lamely.

'He's staying at the Hotel Seattle,' she offered, 'but right now he's just next door in the bar!'

And so he was! He was very nice and pretended to remember me. My husband Richard is Garth Nix's greatest fan. (He spent one entire day of a recent holiday in Spain reading Lirael. When he finished it I breathed a sign of relief, thinking we could go out and see Spain, or something. But what did my husband do? He opened it up and started all over again!) So Richard stood wagging his tail and panting with happiness as his idol chatted with us. Garth Nix is one of the nicest and most humble authors I have ever met. And funny, too. He was promoting his latest book, Drowned Wednesday.

And BONUS! He was sitting with fellow kids' author Louise Rennison, who was promoting her latest book, ...Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers I have heard Louise speak before, at the Children's Book Group convention in Birmingham a year ago, and she is hilarious. On an impulse I bought her latest book, and got her to sign it. I'm glad I did because I loved it! She has a wonderful main character called Georgia Nicolson, who thinks only about boys and makeup and says stuff like 'it was vair, vair nice and thrice fabby.'

We went in to see the Ovid, which had specially good special effects, and then caught a taxi to Rowan and Ant's party. The party was vair, vair nice and thrice fabby.

The next morning the beating rain and howling wind woke me at 5.30am but by 9.00am – when we went down to breakfast – the sun had come out. Breakfast was great. Richard had an English cooked breakfast, I had the exact same thing but vegetarian. Brighton is one of the few places in England where you can get vegetarian options. No wonder Rowan loves it!

We wandered along the sea front, admiring the jade green sea dotted with whitecaps as we pulled our collars up. Then did a quick tour of Brighton's Aquarium, more for Richard than me as those things always make me feel sorry for fish that can swim hundreds of miles but are cooped up in a tiny tank.

After that we met my overseas bookfair guy, Gary, plus his partner and dog, and I signed some books in a tearoom.

Then another wander along the seafront, looking for somewhere to eat that night, and then back to the Old Market for Meg Rosoff, who was talking about her book, How I Live Now.

Meg was very interesting and one thing in particular struck me. She said that as a writer she struggles most with plots, but recently she discovered you can STEAL PLOTS FROM THE GREEK MYTHS! What have I been saying all along?? Huh? HUH??

After Meg Rosoff's talk, we had a drink in The Lanes in weak but brave sunshine and read our books. I was chuckling over Boy Entrancers. Georgia Nicolson's 'desire line' (to quote my mentor John Truby), is simple to snog boys. It's that simple. Georgia even has ratings for a snogfest scale. You can see them at 'her' site: www.georgianicolson.com*hee*

After our little taste of cafe life, we went to see Kingdom of Heaven, Ridley Scott's new film. Every review I've read panned it, so my hopes were not high. But I thought it was wonderful! Ridley Scott remains one of my favourite directors. He got the most out of the his writers and actors (it was SO much better than Star Wars) and despite all the reviewers' snide comments, Orlando Bloom was great. The thing I love about Ridley Scott is that he is so deliciously visual. I especially love the effects he gets with light shinging through dust and smoke.

The film also had a great message: the Kingdom of Heaven is not a place on earth. It's in your heart.

Cherubs and Romans

Today I did a new kind of event: sharing the stage with another author!

Cherub series author Robert Muchamore and I spoke to 60 boys from Shrewsbury House School in the morning and 60 lively girls from Brentford School for Girls in the afternoon.

Robert and I both stood up and spoke for about ten minutes about how we got started writing, then fielded their questions, both of us answering whenever we could. They boys were especially well-prepared and had each read at least one of my books and at least one of Robert's books each!

In the break between sessions the Waterstone's staff gave us lunch: cheese, salad and vegetarian samosas. The lovely organizer Alex (right, with me and Robert) even did a Starbucks run to get me a mocha. It was great meeting Laura and Gerald who are both Buffy fans. Especially Gerald.

I had mentioned the archetypes in my talk to the boys and over lunch Gerald and I tried to match them up with the crew of Serenity:

The Hero: Mal
The Faithful Sidekick: Zoe
The Funny One: Wash
The Wild One: Jayne
The Mentor: Reverend Book?

Of course because it is Joss, the characters are much more than archetypes. Apparently he took aside the actor who plays Jayne and said 'You are really the hero of this story.' A good author knows that each character – like each of us – is the hero of his own story. I have great hopes for Serenity, out this October.

Joss, don't let me down the way George let me down last night with Revenge of the Sith...

Mad Max in Barcelona

Last night was my last night in Barcelona, so I did the traditional thing to do on one's last night in Barcelona.

I watched Mad Max I and Mad Max II. (Thanks for loaning me the DVDs, Kirsten)

The first one was pretty weak as a story. Just a lot of violence and erm... violence. And as John Truby says, revenge is never a good desire line.

But the second one, subtitled The Road Warrior, was spot on. Not only did it hit the seven beats I'm always talking about but it also uses the four classic archetypes I've been telling kids about for the past few years.

The Hero: Mad Max
The Faithful Sidekick: His Dog
The Funny One: The Giro Captain
The Wild One: The Feral Kid

There is no mentor, though you could say Mad Max is the Feral Kid´s mentor and the talisman is the music box mechanism...

Now some people have suggested I based Lupus on the Feral Kid in Mad Max II. It´s reasonable to suggest it, but last night was the first time I've seen either of them!

One of the kids at a school here in Spain mentioned Tarzan when I was discussing the four basic archetypes. Brilliant!

The Hero: Tarzan
The Faithful Sidekick: Jane
The Funny One/Wild One: Cheetah (the chimp)

It even works with Sex and the City!

The Hero: Carrie
The Faithful Sidekick: Charlotte
The Funny One: Miranda
The Wild One: Samantha

Gaudi & Picasso

No point getting up early in Barcelona. Everything, and I mean everything is closed until 10.00.

OK, you can get juice and a chocolate croissant and eat it in the Placa de Reial but they won´t even have cleaned up last night's rubbish by 8.00am. Barcelona is definitely not the city for early birds like me.

I wandered around the empty streets until 10.00, then bought a Barcelona card at an Information Kiosk. The Barcelona card gives you free travel all around the city and discounts on entry to all museums, sometimes 100% discount. I bought one for two days. At only 20 euros it was a bargain.

Then onto the metro to a stop called Lesseps which looked pretty close to Gaudi's famous Parc Guell on the map. It wasn´t and that park is up a rather steep hill. At least I burned off the chocolate croissant. My fellow-writer Robert Muchamore told me I had to visit Parc Guell. He said it was one of his favourite places in the world. It was amazing, but also depressing in a strange way. All the beauty of Gaudi´s organic shapes, fairytale houses, broken tile mosaics, slanting columns and what do the Spaniards do with it? They spray graffiti on it and leave their empty rubbish lying around. It is such a shame. Also, it was crowded at 11.00 am on a sunny Friday. Very crowded.

I used my Barcelona card to get a bus down to Sagrada Familia (Sacred Family) Gaudi's piece de resistance, the great cathedral he spent his last years working on. I got off the bus and was looking at my map working my way towards where I thought it should be. Suddenly I looked up and there it was, at the end of a long street called Avenguda de Gaudi. Absolutely breathtaking. I sat at a cafe and sipped a bitter Kas and read my guide book, then went in.

The cathedral is stunning. It is essentially a building site and has no roof but in a strange way this makes it all the more impressive. They are still working on it, building four or five more towers to compliment the eight existing ones. Down in the basement, in the museum, you can look through a glass window to the workshop and actually see the architects and builders going over blueprints and handling white plaster models of the towers. Amazing.

The controversial western facade, with its depiction of the last hours of Jesus's life, the passion, was amazing, too. So many images to look at and touch and meditate on. Very bleak and very powerful. This has got to be my favourite cathedral in the world. I can´t wait until it´s finished.

After that I took the metro back to the stop nearest my flat, Liceu. I had my felafel at 3.00 and a nap like a proper resident of Barcelona.

I surfaced at 4.45 and wandered down Carre Ferran which I now realize is the decumanus maximus of Roman Barcino. And the Placa Jaume was the forum. I even found four huge marble columns that formed the facade of the Temple of Rome and Augustus. They are well hidden behind the cathedral. If you keep going down the street several metres above the decumanus maximus it becomes Av. de la Princesa and if you are lucky you might find the Picasso Museum.

It is a very odd collection in five beautiful converted townhouses. It has a lot of Picasso´s early work, especially from when he was 14 to 19 years old. Then a few works from his twenties, up to 1917. (Picasso was born in 1881).

Then there is nothing until 1957! So we skip forty years.

But stepping into the later rooms is like entering another universe. A great one!

I usually hate pigeons but there is a whole room of pigeons from the dovecote of Picasso´s villa in Cannes. The next room is full of his wonderful interpretations of Velasquez´s Las Meninas. What struck me with huge force was how much he was enjoying himself in all these big bright paintings. They are full of colour, confidence and most of all a wicked humour.

In one of his interpretations of Velasquez's masterpiece he has made the infanta scowl by giving her a V above the two dots for her eyes and the dot for her mouth. And the dog in the picture appears to be squatting to do his business. Very clever. Very funny. I do love Picasso.

Stinky Barcelona!

Done it, Miss!

That's what all the little year 2 kids used to say when I used to teach art and asked them to draw a circle. They would wave their papers in the air and cry 'Done it, Miss!' I feel like shouting that now.

I've finally done my last event at a Spanish International School. And survived. What's more, I´m still standing!

My last Spanish school (which shall remain nameless) was great, except for some of the 9th graders who skipped my talk to go smoke behind the bushes. Their loss. I wish the three or four girls who had come hadn´t bothered. They sauntered in late, tossing their glossy hair and chewing metaphorical gum of boredom. They kept the 8th graders waiting nearly a quarter of an hour.

It is very frustrating to give so much of yourself and get scorned. I am pretty sure my days of doing these events are numbered. Also, how many times can you describe how Romans went to the toilet and keep it fresh?

But my morning event in costume went well. It´s the first time I've done my talk al fresco. Thanks to a beautiful day and a good PA system we pulled it off.

The librarian and I had a lovely lunch in a nearby leafy square, serenaded by the whine of motorscooters and the cooing of pigeons. We stopped for ice cream for dessert before the afternoon sessions.

Anyway, I got through it and was back in Las Ramblas by 5.30.

I had my usual felafel from Maoz Felafel on Ferran, then rushed to the Museu d'Història de la Ciutat and went underground to see the Roman city which lies beneath the modern one.

It is fascinating. The Roman city was founded during the reign of Augustus and it was called Barcino.

Among the ruins they have excavated and left visible are the remains of a fullonica, (a dye-shop and cleaners), and a fish-sauce factory. I am telling you: that part of Barcino would have smelled extremely nasty!

They used urine to bleach cloth, and the garum or fish-sauce factories were so smelly they were often well outside of town.

Ewww! Stinky Barcelona!

Tibidabo & the Saint of Beekeepers

What a difference a good sleep makes! Last night I had a monk's dinner of felafel with pineapple for dessert and no alcohol. I slept like a baby right through until 6.45am. Late for me!

For the last few mornings I have emerged from my narrow doorway into the narrow medieval street (always dark) just before 8.00. Two women in reflective vests are always hosing down the street with water at this time. I can usually catch a taxi on Las Ramblas and I did that today at around 8.00. Oak House is up near Tibidabo and this morning the traffic was appalling. It took us forty five minutes and the driver was ranting and gesticulating the whole time. He was disappointed that I was relaxed about it but it was a beautiful sunny morning and I´d given myself plenty of time.

My organizer wasn't there but a brilliant technical guy named Tico had set up the state-of-the-art auditorium with a laptop connected to a big screen, and two working mikes. I also had a stage and desk. Another pleasant surprise was how well-behaved the pupils were, even though they were 99% Spanish. I was also impressed by the building, which is a beautiful converted villa with pines, acacias, olives, (everything but oak) and also mosaics and towers and fountains.

I did my introductory talk twice for an hour and a quarter which is stretching it for English pupils, not to mention Spanish kids. But we pulled it off.

Then I gave my First Lines and Writing Tips talk, and after lunch (at 2.20!)I gave my Writing Tips and Hero´s Journey talk to years 5 and 6. The kids were very bright and enthusiastic. Like the kids at St Pauls, they waved cheerfully at me whenever I passed by.

Oak House is not far from the school where I'll be tomorrow, so I went over there after I'd finished, dropped off my things and asked the way to Tibidabo, which was in sight. Tibidabo is Latin, of course. It comes from the passage in the gospels where Satan tempts Jesus. Satan takes Jesus up on a high mountain and says 'I will give you (tibi dabo) all these if you worship me...'

A nice teacher drove me up there but the teleferique was closed so I couldn't go right up to the monastery. I had a coke in a scenic bar with a breezy view over Barcelona, then caught a bus and metro down to Plaza Catalunya, which is the heart of Barcelona and only two blocks from my flat.

One of the kids at Oak House had mentioned he bought some of my books at the biggest department store in Barcelona, El Corte Ingles, so I went up to the 7th floor and found copies of all except the first book.

Then I wandered back towards my little flat via Zara, a women's clothing store which is much cheaper here than in London. I bought a silk shirt and succumbed to candy-striped socks. Then back to the flat to drop off shopping, then out again to my felafel place. It's called Moaz Felafel on Carre de Ferran near the Placa Reial and you can buy a felafel salad with a free drink for only 3.80 euros, which is brilliant! It was v. tasty.

I went back to the flat to wolf it down and while I was reading my Dorling Kindersley Eyewitness Guide I noticed that today, May 11th, is a special festival day. It is Dia de Sant Ponce, patron saint of beekeepers and herbalists! 'Stalls along Carrer Hospital sell herbs, honey and candied fruit...' says the guide. Frantically I scanned the map to find Carrer Hospital. There it was! Just across Las Ramblas! I swallowed the last of my felafel, grabbed my camera and went out just as the bells were ringing 8.00pm. Thankfully the stalls were still out, dozens of them lining a fascinating street with a strong Middle Eastern flavour in a district which is called Raval. I bought some eucalyptus caramel, licorice strips and honeycomb. Took lots of great photos, too.

P.S. Richard just sent me this passage from one of our favourite historical writers, Patrick O'Brian. It´s from Master and Commander and it's at the beginning of the sequence about the capture of the Cacafuego. I asked him to look it up because I remember Stephen mentions Tibidabo. (Stephen and Jack are on board the ship looking towards Barcelona.)

'To the left of the smoke, southwards, that is the hill of Montjuic, with the great castle; and the projection to the right is Barceloneta.' said Stephen. 'And rising there beyond the city you can make out Tibidabo: I saw my first red-footed falcon there when I was a boy. Then continuing the line from Tibidabo through the cathedral to the sea, there is the Moll de Santa Creu, with the great mercantile port; and to the left of it the basin where the king’s ships and the gunboats lie.'

'Many gunboats?' asked Jack.

American School of Barcelona

Sitting at Happy Talk internet cafe about a stones throw from my little apartment in Barcelona´s gothic quarter.

I had a long day today but a good one. The librarians at the American School of Barcelona did a great job organizing everything and my event went really well.

I arrived at the school around 8.15 by taxi to find Helen and Susan taping a huge sign to the front gates. It was done as a mosaic and read ASB WELCOMES CAROLINE LAWRENCE. I felt like a real celeb!

I spoke to about 200 kids from 2nd to 7th grade dressed up as a Roman with my powerpoint slide show. As usual, my sponge-on-a-stick routine got them gasping and laughing. It never fails. Have sponge-stick will travel...

Then I quickly changed back into street clothes to speak to grades 8, 9 and 10. (I would have lost all respect dressed as a Roman matron.)I gave them my writing tips talk which went down well as lots of the boys are huge Star Wars fans.

Then a break before several more workshops down in the library to different age groups.

What was amazing was that a fan from Ontario Canada saw from my EVENTS Diary that I was going to be in Barcelona the same time as she would be here with her family. Jessica and her parents contacted the American School who very kindly said she could come in and attend one of my talks. So she did! And now her parents are taking me out to dinner.

The weather has cooled down a bit and there is a light cloud cover. I´m hoping for warm bright weather one of my talks will be outside. Tomorrow at one of the British Schools here, St Pauls, and on Wednesday I´m at another British school: Oak House.

Madrid vs Bilbao

What a difference Bilbao is from Madrid!

My Spanair plane took off from hot dry Madrid around 7.00pm and 30 minutes later it was banking over mist-swathed green mountains on a rainy evening.

Bilbao is in the Basque region and doesnt feel Spainish at all. It is green, lush, mountainous with half-timbered houses you might expect to find in Bavaria or maybe Northern Italy.

Elvira, the Brooklyn-born librarian of the American School of Bilbao, met me at the airport. Although shes been here thirty years and has been married to a Spaniard almost as long, her accent is still unmistakably New York. She drove me through the rain to a town north of Bilbao called Getxo, pronounced Getcho. I was going to be staying with a family for two nights. We found their apartment house in a posh area of this pretty, rain-washed suburb. Edurne and Juan Bosco are both psychologists and their nine year old daughter Maria is a fan of my books.

They welcomed me into their smart, modern apartment. Their cultured neighbours from upstairs were there, too, because they speak excellent English. After a glass of red wine, some cheese and the inevitable jamon serrano we ate dinner. Edurne had prepared tortilla patates, which is a kind of egg flan with potato. Im not usually keen on egg but it was delicious. She served it with two salads and mini baskets of bread. We had strawberries for dessert.

They had prepared a little guest room for me with four lilies (chosen by Maria) in a glass vase.

Im still fighting a cold, so it was great to get into the tiny clean bed and let the sound of the rain lull me to sleep.

May in Spain 3

Having a lunchtime break at the American School in Madrid. The kids here are bright and cheerful and seemed to enjoy my assembly in costume. We had the powerpoint working so that was good, too.

The room we were going to use for one of the workshops wasn't going to work so we changed plans and moved 150 3rd - 5th graders into the library.

When I was a teacher my old fake Latin motto was 'flexibilitas in omnibus'. There is no such word as flexibilitas but it works for me.

The weather here is still nice: a bit overcast and sultry. Apparently it is raining in Bilbao.

I'll find out soon enough. I'm flying there this evening.

Hippie Mysteries!

Remember hippies? They dressed in beads and fringes and they painted flowers on their cars and said 'Far out!' and 'Peace, man!' a lot. Well, before there were hippies there were beatniks. Beatniks wore black turtleneck sweaters, and drank espresso and discussed philosophy and read poetry and said 'Cool, Daddy-O!' In the 1950's and 1960's San Francisco was one of the most famous homes of beatniks and hippies.

One of their favourite meeting places was the famous City Lights Bookstore in a part of San Francisco known as North Beach. City Lights Bookstore is still there today – in 2005 – and it's hardly changed. You can still buy beatnik and hippie poetry and even see some beatniks and hippies. Most bookshops have categories like Best Sellers, Mystery & Crime, Children's etc. City Lights Bookstore does have a children's section, down in a musty basement right between Lesbian Literature and Muckraking. And guess what? They had a copy of The Pirates of Pompeii!

Here is a picture of me (in sunglasses and a turtleneck) holding that famous volume of hippie/beatnik literature in front of a door which is labelled I AM THE DOOR. I went with my brother Dan last week and we wandered around for a happy hour. At one point Dan saw a copy of a book called STEAL THIS BOOK by a hippie called Abbie Hoffman (a man). Dan tried to steal it, but the staff got very upset and he had to put it back... (Just joking! *hee*)

Just outside City Lights Bookstore is the famous Transamerica Pyramid. And that interesting green building to the right of it is owned by movie director Francis Ford Coppola. There is an Italian restaurant called Café Zoetrope there. Coppola also owns a vineyard in the Napa Valley.

One day I would like to own a vineyard. Or maybe a bookshop. One day I might even write some Hippie Mysteries.

I love San Francisco (never call it 'Frisco') and I would move there like a shot if it weren't so darned far from Italy and Greece and the British Museum. Also, it has all those pesky hills!

Still, maybe one day...

[The 17+ books in the Roman Mysteries series are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans as a topic in Key Stage 2. I have also written some Western Mysteries (set in the Wild West) and the Roman Quests series, a follow-on from the Roman Mysteries set in Roman Britain.]

Roman Mysteries in San Francisco

I wasn't planning to do any events while on holiday in California last week, but when San Francisco Latin teacher Bill Jennings sent me a cheerful email saying how much he liked my books, I couldn't resist. I offered to come speak at Convent of the Sacred Heart Elementary School and he accepted. He even put up pictures of the school on his great BLOG so that I could find it more easily.

A week of 80 degree heat had just ended and it was raining on the morning of Friday 18 March when my husband Richard and I took BART from Fremont into San Francisco. We found out that Sacred Heart Convent School for Girls is in one of San Francisco's most beautiful areas, the quiet residential area called Pacific Heights. The building is so beautiful and famous that it is listed in most guide books.

The lucky girls who attend have daily stunning views of the San Francisco Bay with the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. When we arrived we were warmly welcomed by Anne Wachter, the gracious head teacher of the school. She let Richard choose a spot at the end of the salon to sit and paint a watercolour. Then she took me across the street to Herbst House where I met Latin teacher Bill Jennings and his charming students.

For about 45 minutes I told them how I came up with the idea for the Roman Mysteries and how I get ideas from Garfield cartoons, my family and the Cambridge Latin Course. The girls were a fab audience and laughed in all the right places. I look forward to hearing from some of them and want to give a special hello to Catherine, who introduced my books to Mr Jennings. As her reward, she will receive a FREE copy of The Colossus of Rhodes, only just out in England and not due out in America for at least a year.

Maximas gratias tibi ago, Magister Jennings!

The Colossus of Rhodes!

FAIL! No straddling!

by Caroline Lawrence (author of The Roman Mysteries)

OK. Let's get one thing straight.

The Colossus of Rhodes DID NOT STRADDLE THE HARBOUR.
Fun though that might have been: sailing underneath and looking up as you entered the harbour. He probably stood in a sanctuary on a hill behind Rhodes Town where he could have been seen for miles.

Before I tell you some TRUE facts, let me correct some common misconceptions about Rhodes and the Colossus. (BTW, Colossus just means a "colossal" or "massive" figure.)

1. He did NOT straddle the harbour.
[They didn't have the technology]
2. He did NOT wear nappies/tunic.
[He would have been nude]
3. He was NOT based on Statue of Liberty.
[It was based on HIM!]
4. He is NOT still standing today.
[He was toppled, & later chopped up for scrap & carried away]
5. He did NOT have a big old beard.
[unlike this early cover version (left) for The Colossus of Rhodes]

Here are some TRUE facts about the massive statue and the island of Rhodes.

FAIL! (too small)

(I get most of these facts from Pliny the Elder, who wrote about the Colossus in his Natural History, book 34, section 18. You can check these facts in the Loeb edition, which has Latin on the left hand page and English on the right.)

I. It represented the Sun god (fuit Solis colossus)
II. It was built c. 292 BC by the sculptor Chares of Lindus
III. It probably had spikes on its head, representing rays of the sun.
IV. It was 105 feet high (LXX cubitorum altitudinis)
[The Statue of Liberty from her heels to the top of her head is 111 feet high. ]
V. It only stood for 66 years...
VI. ...then was toppled by an earthquake.
VII. Even in chunks on the ground it was considered one of the 'Seven Sights'
VIII. Few people were tall enough to circle the thumb with both arms. [Did you know your arms outstretched roughly equals your height?]
IX. People could walk around inside the hollow parts on the ground.
X. There were hundreds of other colossi in Rhodes Town, the capital city of the island.
XI. There was a colossal statue in Rome based on this statue of the sun. [It was originally a statue of Nero but after his death the head was changed!]
XII. The Flavian Amphitheatre was called the Colosseum after the Roman Colossus nearby.

YAY! Ben Lloyd-Hughes is "Floppy"

Here are some more surprising facts about Rhodes.
I. It was a base of slave trading in Roman times
2. It had a population of small deer...
3. ...imported upon the advice of an oracle...
4. ...to rid Rhodes of an infestation of snakes!
5. A Greek poet called Apollonius came from Rhodes
6. He wrote an epic poem about Jason called the Argonautica
7. The walking bronze giant Talus in this poem might be based on the colossus in the Argonautica
8. In the 1st century AD a young Roman began to write his own Argonautica in Latin verse
9. His name was Gaius Valerius Flaccus (Flaccus means "Floppy")
10. He appears in the Roman Mysteries TV series and books

You can enjoy an exciting mystery involving a trip to Rhodes, the slave-trade and a thrilling fight atop the Colossus if you read The Colossus of Rhodes or watch season 2 of the Roman Mysteries TV series.

Marco Polo Mansion in Old Rhodes Town, where I stayed during my 2003 research trip

[Roman Mystery 9 - The Colossus of Rhodes - and Roman Mystery 10 - The Fugitive from Corinth - are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Greeks as a topic in Key Stage 2. The glossy BBC Roman Mysteries TV series did adaptations of both these books.]

Read a Classicist's review of The Colossus of Rhodes book/TV and The Fugitive from Corinth TV episode.

A visit to Amphora Wines

Early one Thursday morning we leave an icy apartment (broken boiler) and a cold grey city (London mid-March). Twelve hours later we are banking over the San Francisco Bay where the temperature is in the high 80's and dry. Hallelujah!

The weather is still beautiful for a weekend trip up to Cloverdale, where my sister Jennifer and her husband Dave have a weekend 'cottage'. Surrounded by ancient oaks, pines and redwoods, the house is a work-in-progress but has a guest barn, pool, patio and hot-tub. It also has stunning views over the Alexander Valley.

My brother Dan and his wife Meredith join us and on Saturday we do an impromptu wine tour of the nearby Dry Creek Valley. In the course of a perfect afternoon we visit seven fabulous vineyards: Fritz, Lake Sonoma Winery, Ferrari-Carano Vineyards, Preston, Bella, Raymond Burr Vineyards, and Amphora. Each of these wineries has something special to offer. Fritz gives us a warm welcome and a stunning ruby Carignane. Lake Sonoma Winery has amazing views over vineyards and olive trees on the surrounding hills, startlingly green after last month's rains. Here we eat a picnic lunch under a white canvas parasol. Ferrari-Carano looks like a villa in the middle of Tuscany; it also has stunning cellars and formal gardens. Preston Winery has its own home-grown olives for sale, also a great Barbera. The tasting at Bella Vineyards takes place in a smooth, hobbit-like cave blasted deep into Lily Hill, whose grapes (growing overhead) contribute to a memorable Zinfandel.

Raymond Burr was a famous actor. He appeared in an American TV show called Perry Mason. Europeans might know him better from the classic Hitchcock film, Rear Window, in which he played the baddie! We get the warmest welcome so far at his winery, Raymond Burr Vineyards, where we are encouraged to sit at a table in the shade and drink our wines as we read about his life. Here is one of my favourite quotes from the info sheet about him. 'By some coincidence, and not a little skill, the Raymond Burr Cabernets are very like the man: big, full of gusto, complex and jubliantly alive.' We are very 'mellow' by this time and I buy a 1999 Cabernet described as sleek and focused, black cherry, black currant, vanilla and chocolate... Who could resist?

It is late by now, after 4.00 pm, but I really want to go to a Winery called Amphora. Why? Because of the name, of course! We have no clue what it will be like.

The sun is sinking in the west and the light is golden as we turn off the main road and take an unpaved, straight road which dips and then rises like a roller coaster. There are vineyards on either side, bare and twisted, like tiny charred scare-crows. Later I have a close look and see the first pale green grape leaves blossoming in the blackened vines.

As we approach a ramshackle white building with several outbuildings and tanks, I remark that it doesn't look very impressive. 'Don't worry,' says my brother Dan. 'A lot of the best wineries in Napa look like this.' He hops out of the car to see if it's open and a few moments later beckons us down.

We find two other couples sitting at a wooden picnic table covered with a white cloth. They are enjoying wine so dark it's almost black in the warmth of the late afternoon.

The owner of the winery, Rick Hutchinson, appears. He is a round-headed man with an indelible grin. He wears glasses and a baseball cap with the name AMPHORA on it. Rick is of indeterminate age; could be anywhere from 30 to 60 years old. At one point he jokingly claims to be 86 but later shows us his driver's license; he's not quite 50.

'Why did you call your winery Amphora,' I ask, as he guides us into his tiny cellar. 'Did you study Latin at school?'

'I barely finished high school,' he laughs. 'A few years ago I took some pottery clases. One of our assignments was to copy an ancient form of vase. I saw some amphoras in a book and fell in love with their shapes.' Rick gestures towards a wall covered with photos, mostly of pretty young girls in shorts treading grapes, their legs stained pink. (You can read a fun article about the female treading HERE)

Among the photos of pink-thighed girls are some photos of various amphoras he's made. I can see now they're not ancient because they are finished with an attractive marbled glaze. Ancient amphoras were never glazed, as far as I know, because they had to breathe.

His cellar or cave (say it with a French accent) is a cramped space with a wooden counter on one side and dozens of oak barrels the other. Each barrel seems to have a different provenance; I notice one from Hungary. Crowded along the wooden counter are his five wines: a spicy, purple Zinfandel, a beefy Cabernet Sauvignon, an indecently earthy Merlot, a seductive Syrah and an irresistable Petite Sirah. You are supposed to just sip a little of the wine when you are tasting, and then toss the rest into a 'spit bucket'. At Amphora Winery we see no spit bucket. Rick is drinking along with the rest of us. When he wants to try another wine he just chucks his dregs out the doorway, towards the couples sitting at the picnic table.

Rick's wines really are fabulous. They have something different about them. Later on we discover what the secret ingredient is: Rick Hutchinson. When we move up a dusty slope to another shed to taste from the barrels of wine from the 2004 harvest, Rick dips a hollow glass tube into the barrel, sucks on it until it is full of purple wine, then siphons a little off into each of our glasses. He sips from his own glass before pouring the extra back into the barrel! 'Never mind,' he grins. 'Human pathogens don't survive fermenting wine.' He is telling us stories and flirting with some pretty girls who have just arrived and he has us in stitches. 'This 2004 Zinfandel,' he says, 'is like a high-school student who has just graduated but hasn't yet decided where to go to University. It still has its whole life ahead of it and it's not quite sure how it will develop.'

This naturally brings us to a discussion of the film Sideways which is bound to come up. 'I didn't particularly like the film,' admits Rick, 'but I loved the seduction scene on the porch, where Miles and Maya are discussing wine. I've played both parts. I especially like what Maya says about how wine is always developing and changing...'

Then Rick leaves us to attend to some very pretty women, one of whom has a chihuahua in her purse. He really reminds me of a satyr, a grinning cheerful bon vivant who especially loves women and wine. Earlier, he had told us about seven beautiful undergraduates from Berkeley who came to tread grapes for him one afternoon and became so enthusiastic that they shed every stitch of clothing. Later, as a thank-you present to Rick, they painted their naked bodies and rolled on giant sheets of artist's paper. This image will become the label for Rick's latest wine, Seven Sisters, under his new Kylix trademark. I can't wait to see that one.

Believe it or not, I haven't told you the best bits about Rick Hutchinson; he's definitely going to be a character in a future book and I wouldn't want to spoil it for you!

P.S. You can find out more about Amphora Winery at amphorawines.com

California here we come!

Hmmmn. The life of a writer is pretty dull. Outside that is.

Lots of exciting stuff is happening early every morning between me and my keyboard. I haven't enjoyed writing a book so much since I was working on The Pirates of Pompeii. And coincidentally this book (The Sirens of Surrentum) is also set at the Villa Limona and has one of my fave characters: Felix!

We are off to California tomorrow for two weeks holiday with my family. Of course I will take my laptop and continue to disappear to Sorrento for a few hours every morning.


One of my fans (you know who you are) has requested an... erm... baby picture... so here is a very exciting photo of me and my little sister Jennifer and my brother Dan! We were a bit younger then.

I just realised that I have always been a bit bossy like Flavia and that Dan is easy-going and likeable like Jonathan and my sister is cute and good with plants and animals just like Nubia.

So where did Lupus come from?

Answer: we all have a little Lupus inside us!

On the BBC

Last Saturday I took the train and tube to Oxford Circus and walked from there to Broadcasting House. It took me half an hour door to door, one of the many benefits of living in central London.

Sometimes you will see a little group of autograph hunters waiting outside Broadcasting House to get the autographs of famous people. I walked past them unnoticed.

Inside you tell the security people that you're there to do a show. They give you a badge and someone comes to get you. I was taken down to the basement and met Sandi Toksvig (the presenter) and Kevin Dawson (the producer). If you've ever seen the TV series Frasier, then Sandi is like Frasier and Kevin is like Ros. He tells Sandi what do do and who to address questions to and how much time she's got left. He speaks to her through a little earpiece.

I was a bit disappointed because Sandi had just got back from South Africa and was very excited and got someone on at the last minute to talk about that. This meant that Tim Severin, a Viking expert, and I, the Roman expert, only had half the time to talk about Ancient Travel.

Also, Tim was speaking from a studio in Ireland and they kept losing him. Poor Sandi was trying to interview while in her ear Kevin was saying stuff like: 'We've got Tim in the studio but the line isn't working... OK, he's on the phone...No, wait! He isn't ... he's going to another studio... he's not there yet... OK, NOW he's there! You can ask him question 6...' Poor Sandi was frantically but quietly flipping through her pages trying to find question 6 while making intelligent replies about South Africa.

For those of us being interviewed it is quite nerve-wracking because we are going out LIVE to thousands of people and if you say something stupid then everybody hears it and you can't take it back. I have a special trick which I use against nerves. I hold some saliva in the front of my mouth. It works because when you are afraid your mouth goes dry so if you have a wet mouth your body thinks you are relaxed. Also, it makes me concentrate on not spitting on Sandi Toksvig which keeps my mind off being nervous.

It went well and I only make one mistake. I said 'Petronicus' instead of 'Petronius'. Still I don't think he'll sue. He's been dead 2000 years. After the broadcast Sandi said how hard it had been and did she have any new grey hairs? We said we never guessed how chaotic things were in her earpiece. She took the lift with me up to the lobby and said, 'I'm going to take the back entrance; there are some autograph-hunters out there.'

I said goodbye to her and went out the front. A few of the autograph-hunters gave me a keen look but then they turned away, bored. I passed by unmolested.

A Writer's Life

Sometimes people ask me what its like being a writer.

The room where I write

I am really blessed because about five years ago my husband Richard and I moved to a riverside flat here in London. It has been a lifetime dream of mine to live by the River Thames. To quote the actress Joanna Lumley, 'If I wasn't married to my husband, I might be married to the river Thames.'

We're on the second floor so the Thames is right there, flowing back and forth, two tides a day, always different. There is also a huge sky and my arched window faces northwest so I can see the sunset in summer. Sometimes in the winter when I get up early to write, there is a huge full moon sinking down towards the apartments over on the other side, it makes a silver path in the inky water. There's also a disused docking platform outside our window, from when these flats were warehouses receiving goods from the East Indies. This wooden platform is abandoned by people, but not by birds. At any one time I can see cormorants, ducks, geese, swans, coots and usually a heron.

On Saturday and Sunday mornings the skiffs and eights slide by, a coach with a megaphone urging his oarsmen on up the river. I also see tugboats carrying London's garbage up and down, and the occasional river cruise boat. But usually it's very peaceful and unbelievably quiet. At the moment all I can hear is a goose calling to his friends on the foreshore; it's low tide.

The river is on my left. At first I couldn't take my eyes off it but now I'm content to glance over and reassure myself that it's still there. I sit at a table with my iMac facing a wall covered with images.

I am a very visual person so I need to SEE what I'm writing about. I have images of things like a Roman ship, a calendar of the year 80 AD showing phases of the moon on each day, frescoes, mosaics, film posters and portraits of people I base my characters on. I often use jazz musicians rather than actors to inspire me. I don't know what they're like so I have to deduce it from their faces. For example, in my fourth book The Assassins of Rome, I base a character called Simeon on a jazz bass player called Slim Man. Actually I did see him play in a jazz club and that informed his character as it appears in the book.

I never listen to music or the radio while I'm writing but when I'm not writing music is a huge source of inspiration. I like smooth jazz, chill, lounge, whatever you want to call it. I usually don't like songs with words because that gets in the way of the picture that music alone can create. One of my favourite musicians is Larry Carlton. I've based songs in my books on some songs of his from the album Fingerprints, in particular a song called Slave Song which is Nubia's theme.


On either side of my chair is a stool with papers, letters and reference books in piles. On the wicker coffee table behind me are more piles of papers, at the moment they are mixed with postcards and receipts from a recent research trip to Athens.

Richard's map of Ostia Antica

My husband is a non-fiction writer and graphic designer and he works out of the living room next door. He does all the little maps and diagrams at the front of my books. We have a game where he brings me what he's done in his mouth – like a dog – and drops it on my desk. I mark up the changes and tell him to 'fetch!' A moment later he is back, wagging his tail, with the latest version in his mouth.

The one thing a writer must have is self-discipline. You have to fashion a routine that works for you and this can take years. Over the five years I've been writing full-time, this is the routine I've developed.

I get up between 5.00am and 6.00am, go straight to the computer and write until 10.30, 11.00 or 12.00 noon at the latest. Of course I get up to make a cup of coffee or get some toast and an apple, and I dress in phases (preferring to stay in comfy track trousers and sweatshirt as long as possible), but by the time Richard is up and the post arrives and the phone starts ringing, I have put in five or six hours. Then I'm done with the creative, focussed part of the day.

I have made a rule, which I occasionally break, never to look at my emails until after noon. Once I'm online I'm caught up in the demands and business there.

Late mornings I either go out to the gym or go for a long walk. Writers sit around all day so you have to be self-disciplined to keep fit. Walking is one of my best ways of getting ideas or solving problems. I'll put on a jazz tape or John Truby story structure tapes and walk and ideas just come to me. I have a circuit I do along the river, over Battersea Bridge, back along the river and over Wandsworth Bridge. It takes me about an hour and a quarter and usually I come back with my problem solved or a great idea for a future book.

"Vespasian" at the BM

I have been paid an advance for ten more books in the series and I have little folders on my computer for each one. I don't know exactly what each book will be about but I have a working title and setting and at least one idea for each. If I get a good idea while I'm walking I'll decide which of the books it would fit best with and put it on my ideas document for that book. If I can't decide which of the books it would be best for, I have one hold-all document called Ideas for the Future. Every time I get a good idea or come across a great turn of phrase or see a fascinating character I type it into this document, which is now 144 pages long. Running out of ideas is NOT one of my worries.

Want an example? Here's just one of the hundreds of quotes I've jotted down in this document. It's a quote by Buffy creator Joss Whedon: 'What's your favourite movie? What's one of your most memorable experiences? Now mix them...'

After my walk I have lunch, usually a cheese sandwich and apple, or a salad.

Then, in the afternoon I maintain my website, and answer emails. They're usually either from fans or requests by schools for me to visit. I limit my months for UK school events to two per year. It's really hard work and I can't write when I'm doing promotion.

A couple of afternoons per week, during my writing period, I go to the cinema. I love movies and all my writing methods are based on screenwriting techniques and story structure used in films. Here in London we have the NFT, the National Film Theatre, so I can go see classics like Nashville and La Dolce Vita on a big screen with lots of other film buffs. On Valentine's Day I'm taking my husband Richard to see Casablanca. I love the fact that in London you can see hundreds of good films, and for a reasonable price, if you go before 4.00pm.

replica wax tablet

Another thing I love about London are the Roman re-enactment events. The British Museum and Museum of London are both great for these. I've made many friends and now can order anything from a gladiator pen-knife to a wax-tablet.


When I am doing UK promotion (usually March and October) or overseas promotion (Spanish international schools in May) my day is completely different and I have to abandon writing, though I do jot down thoughts in my little notebook. I usually can't wait to get back to my riverside flat and my writing and my movies.

My holidays are spent doing research. In the past few years I've been to Rome, Ostia, Pompeii, Sorrento, Naples, Rhodes, the Turkish coast and Athens. My holidays are devoted to my writing, but my writing is like being on holiday. So that's OK.

P.S. The Roman Mysteries books are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans as a topic in Key Stage 2. There are DVDs of some of the books as well as an interactive game. I am also writing a series called The Roman Mystery Scrolls for kids aged 7+ and the P.K. Pinkerton Mysteries... 

Christmas in Athens - the Ports of Corinth

Monday 27 December 2004

The Isthmus of Corinth

My husband Richard and I are spending the last day of our Christmas research trip in Athens. I so wish we could have another week. In May. To really get a feel for these sites in the warmth. But my due date for The Fugitive from Corinth is late Feb and there are fans waiting to read it.

In the late morning we go to the National Archaeological Museum. It is full of the Greek masterpieces I studied at Cambridge when I was doing my degree in Classical Archaeology. Again I am struck by how many of these beautiful white sculptures or grave steles had traces of bright paint on them! We have arranged for an English-speaking taxi driver to pick us up outside the Museum at a certain time and he is there. His name is Stavros. His family comes from Crete but he is now an Athenian.

Sanctuary of Corinth

We set off on the quick highway for Corinth. I know exactly where I want to go and we don't have much time so this will have to be a fast tour. We do have time to stop and look at the canal. I know I've been here before but I can't remember stopping. Probably because I was about 22 years old and driving a rented Fiat and in fear of my life. Now you can go bungy jumping from here.

At Corinth we whizz through the site in 15 minutes and skip the Acrocorinth. I was there many years ago and will never forget the magic of the place. You hear nothing but the wind and bees and maybe the clank of a flock of goats moving down the hill. And I still remember hearing the distant braying of a donkey from miles away on the plain. I'd love to take Richard there but we don't have time. It will have to wait.

Stavros in Lechaeum, Corinth

Stavros has never been to the remains of the western port of Lechaeum and has to ask a local taxi driver. Clutching a scrap of paper with complicated instructions we finally get there... after a few wrong turns. It would have taken me hours to find this place without a native. Lechaeum is just as I expected it: barren, flat, windswept. The meagre site is fenced off with no access but the remains of a terracotta Roman flue confirm that this is the place.

Helen's Bath?

We drive back towards the eastern harbour of Cenchrea, passing along a flat plain of vines and olives beneath the shadow of the Acrocorinth. We go via the little village of Examilia to Loutro Elenis. This means Helen's Baths and Pausanias talks about a hot springs here.

It is my idea that Flavia and her friends are staying here a mile or two from Cenchrea in a luxury guest house called Helen's Hospitium. Helen is a beautiful Greek widow who owns the hospitium and has designs on Flavia's father, Captain Geminus. As my husband Richard says, Captain Geminus isn't so much a babe-magnet as a matron-magnet. Well, he does still have all his teeth!

ruins of Cenchrea, Corinth

Helen's Bath turns out to be the highlight of this trip. It is beautiful in the golden sun of late afternoon. Mount Onia ends in a spur here so you have olive clad slopes rising behind, a blue sea and bright green pine trees down by the water. With Stavros' help we even find the warm springs, still bubbling out of the hill into the transparent seawater a few feet away.

After Helen's Baths we find the site of Cenchrea. A marble pillar and some clay tiles are fenced off and when I climb a brambly hillock I can see the remains of stone piers going out into the water.

We are an hour behind schedule and I want to take the coast road along the Isthmus – the road Theseus travelled when he first went to Athens to claim his birthright. We find Sciron's Rock but not the Evil Stairs. Later I read in the Blue Guide that the ancient road was much higher.

shrine on the Isthmus of Corinth

We pass Megara, and I can't for the life of my make out the twin "breast-shaped" hills Pausanias speaks of. I convince Stavros to stay on the old two-lane coast road, rather than the fast new motorway. He has never been on this road before. We pass through villages, traverse dry river beds, stop to photograph views. All the time I am scribbling furiously in my little notebook. At one point near Eleusis we see a ship capsized and half-submerged in the bay!

Finally at dusk we reach Eleusis. All the guide books say it's an ugly industrial area and yes, there are too many huge factories and refineries on this lovely stretch of coast, but Eleusis itself has some charming seaside cafes by the ruins. I didn't realise it was this close to the water. I didn't realise that conical needle of rock was so dramatic. Of course it's not open but I can peer through the fence and see the columns and blocks of marble and even the Cave of Pluto. There is always a cave.

Eleusis was of course the sanctuary of Demeter and site of the famous Eleusinian Mysteries. The Mysteries were so mysterious that nobody to this day knows exactly what went on there. It's getting dark now and so we turn back onto the motorway and go home.

Fagopoteion in Athens Kolonaki

On the way back to Athens, Stavros tells us some of his favourite restaurants, places he goes with his own wife. One of them is on a street not far from the hotel. Next door, it turns out, to the zacharoplasteio, Despina, where we bought our Christmas confections. It's called Fagopoteion, which roughly means Food and Drink and it's wonderful. It's full of Athenians – a good sign – and you can just point to the food you want. For the first time we see the wine being drawn from a barrel into copper beakers. We've used up almost all our money but when I ask the handsome owner if he takes cards he says, 'You don't need cards. We're very cheap.' And indeed they are. The whole meal with wine costs only E 20 and it's one of the best we had. If only we'd found it at the beginning of our visit!

[The 17+ books in the Roman Mysteries series, including The Fugitive from Corinth, are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans and/or Greeks as a topic in Key Stages 2 and 3. There are DVDs of some of the books.]

Christmas in Athens - the Areopagus

Sunday 26 December 2004

Evzones changing guard

Up early and off to explore the Areopagus and look for the Cave of the Furies.

It's beautiful morning and I pass the Parliament and am the only one to witness the changing of the guard. The Evzones manage to look dignified despite their pleated mini-skirts and big pom-pom slippers.

Near the acropolis I hear a priest intoning the service in Greek and realise they broadcast it on a loudspeaker. I hear other services from other churches as I start to climb the areopagus and explore it. Some of this rocky hill is walled off and I can see tantalizing Roman ruins but I can't get at them.

Cave of the Furies? Maybe?

I do see several caves. One on the north slope and one on the south. I also find a cistern. Whether one of these caves was the famous Cave of the Furies or not, it shows that caves could easily be carved into the rock.

Over on the Pnyx, I find a cave with bars called 'Socrates' Prison'. It almost certainly wasn't Socrates' prison but the information board confirms my realisation: 'The cutting of groundwork and even whole rooms into the rocky hills west of the Acropolis, including the Areopagus, is especially characteristic of this area...'

"Socrates' prison"

Nearby, a service is just finishing at the little Byzantine Church of St Demetrios Loubardiaris. At a nearby cafe a group of grey-haired English are discussing the service. They are obviously residents rather than tourists and as they leave I ask one if he knows where the Cave of the Furies was. He thinks on the south slope but he has to go catch up with his friends who are disappearing. I wish I'd asked them sooner.

sokolatina

I order an espresso and croissant but they don't have the latter. So I let the waiter bring me a 'sokolatina'. It turns out to be one of those sculpted pieces of chocolate cake too sweet to eat. And he charges me a whopping E 6.40. I guess it's because this place has a view of the acropolis. Later the waiter runs after me to thrust some euros in my hand and tell me he charged me for two not one, but the damage has been done. I ain't going back there!

Richard's acropolis watercolour

Back at the hotel, Richard has been doing a watercolour of the Acropolis. It's getting windy and cold, but we brave the weather and walk to Monastiraki. Surprise: everybody is eating at some meat restaurants here. It is only 1.00 and yet whole families are crammed round tables at two restaurants between the flea market and the metro. Later a Greek taxi driver tells us these two places are famous for their giro and souvlaki.

We settle for mezedhes with a view of the Temple of Hephaestos. The plate of goodies include rosemary flavoured burgers, grilled pepper, spicy sausages, cheese, olives, chicken, and delicious chunks of cooked but cold potatoes marinated in vinagrette. Absolutely delicious, and much better than leftover turkey. In case you're interested, the place is called Paradosiako Kafeneio.

Richard's getting a runny nose and it's quite cold so we retreat to the warmth of our hotel room for the rest of the day. Tomorrow is our last day and another busy one. We have hired a taxi driver to take us to Corinth and its surrounding sites!

[The 17+ books in the Roman Mysteries series, including The Fugitive from Corinth, are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans and/or Greeks as a topic in Key Stages 2 & 3. There are DVDs of some of the books as well as an interactive game.]

Christmas in Athens - Brandy in Salamis

Richard's watercolour of Salamis

Saturday 25 December 2004 
Christmas Day

Breakfast at Flocafe at 9.00, just as doors open. It's one of the few places open on Christmas Day and there is soon as steady stream of Athenians coming in. Elegant young women in sunglasses, fathers and sons, young couples... If only it had been this lively at the restaurant last night. A croissant and cafetiere sets us up for the day. In Greece they call cafetiere coffee gallika which means 'French'.

It's a beautiful morning so we walk through the National Gardens to the Anglican Church but decide at the last minute not to attend the service. Instead I suggest going to the island of Salamis. This turns out to be quite an adventure, involving tram, train, bus, taxi and ferry and all the modern Greek I can muster.

We see a new stadium built for the Olympics, and also Piraeus the port of Athens. Piraeus appears in the opening sentence of one of my favourite books, Zorba the Greek. 'I first met him in Piraeus.' I have stolen... er... I am paying tribute to this famous first line by making the first line of book ten very similar: 'I first met him in Corinth' Apparently Kazantzakis wrote this first line in Salamis. Yay!

Piraeus is not pretty, but Perama is downright ugly. Such a shame. It is is in a superb setting. We catch the ferry from here. The big boats run every 15 minutes and a ticket costs less than E 2. Dirt cheap. The port where we disembark isn't much better. We run to the only taverna which seems to be open. Richard has a beer and I have an oily choriatiki. Hey! Christmas lunch! I ask the owner where the cars off the ferries are going. He says many Athenians have villas on this island or go to lunch in pretty villages. He suggests Selinia and points out the bus that will be going there shortly.

Selinia is sublime. Blue transparent water, a blue and white church, and a kiosk that sells batteries. But apart from kiosk man, it's totally deserted. At that moment a businesslike brown dog come up to us and tells us where to go: a little hippy restaurant on the seaside. He hangs around to keep an eye on things while we have our Christmas pudding: big Greek coffees and brandy and a ginger biscuit.

As soon as the sun goes it gets chilly so we move inside and watch a hilarious Greek soap opera for a while.

As the ferry chugs back into Perama a huge almost full moon is rising behind the hills where once Xerxes sat on his throne and watched the Greeks massacre his men at the Battle of Salamis.

We get back to Athens at dusk and wander into Plaka where we find a lively restaurant called Ydria. It's in the Palea Agora square, next to the Roman Agora. All the trees are lit up and it's packed with Athenians. Although the night is chilly all those umbrella heaters make it very toasty. We have one of the best meals yet and I'm surprised by how reasonable the bill is. The waiter brings us a complementary digestif and Christmas sweet. The digestif is clear and it a tiny shot glass so at first I think it's grappa. But as soon as I taste it I know it is mastiha! This is the liquid version of ancient chewing gum made from resin which only grows on the island of Chios. The waiter says I'm the first tourist to guess what it was. However, I should know. One of my main characters in book nine, The Colossus of Rhodes, is always chewing mastic gum like an annoying American tourist.

A great ending to a very different Christmas. We've already decided to make this a regular thing. Next year Christmas in Morocco, to research The Beggar of Volubilis and the year after in Egypt for The Scribes from Alexandria.

[The 17+ books in the Roman Mysteries series, including The Fugitive from Corinth, are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans and/or Greeks as a topic in Key Stages 2 & 3. There are DVDs of some of the books as well as an interactive game.]