Musée Gourmand by Caroline Lawrence

Mougins is a pretty village on the Cote d’Azur up in the hills behind Cannes. Until I was invited to do an author event at an international school eight years ago, I’d never heard of it. On that first trip I was received by practically the whole student body (and several teachers) dressed up as ancient Romans in honour of my Roman Mysteries series. A few months ago I got an invitation to return to Mougins School, this time to talk about my Western Mysteries. 

When I mentioned my upcoming trip to librarian Linda Huxley at Rokeby House School, she urged me to visit a new museum called the Musée d'Art Classique de Mougins, or MAC for short. I’d never even heard of it, but she put me in touch with curator Mark Merrony and publicity director Leisa Paoli. Mark was due to fly to England to interview an eminent expert for Minerva, the glossy archaeology magazine he edits, but Leisa kindly agreed to meet me and show me around. 

That is how I found myself looking at a mixture of Greek, Roman and Egyptian artefacts mixed in with paintings and sculptures by modern artists like Picasso, Chagall and Warhol. The common denominator? The Ancient World. 

The museum started with a boy collecting seven Victorian coins. That boy was Englishman Christian Levett. Later, having made a fortune in hedge-fund management, he began to buy more art and antiquities. By his late 30s he had amassed a fabulous collection Classical art, and some choice modern pieces. Instead of keeping these for his own private enjoyment, he decided to create a museum in the town of Mougins where he has a holiday home. 

Mougins is perfect for such a museum as it can boast an eclectic mix of creative former residents like Man Ray, Jean Cocteau, Fernand Léger, Christian Dior, Edith Piaf and Jacques Brel. Pablo Picasso spent the last fourteen years of his life in Mougins. It is accessible by bus and only a half an hour from Nice airport, a two hour flight from London. 

What collector Christian Levett and curator Mark Merrony have done at MAC is put together a startling, humorous and inspiring melange of classical artefacts and modern art. Did you know that Braque painted Persephone? And that Dufy painted Orpheus? There are some real gems to be discovered here, like a charcoal sketch of Caracalla by Matisse and a pencil Hermes by a young Egon Shiele. 

As Leisa Paoli showed me around, she told me that kids love MAC. They like the big illustrated information signs in French and English. They like the arms and armour, the biggest private collection in the world. The like the interactive plasma screens. They like the sarcophagi in the barrel-vaulted Egyptian ‘basement’. Most of all, they like the challenge of spotting the ‘odd one out.’ This game is easy when you have a pop art Lichtenstein among marble altars and reliefs, but harder when you see a helmet that looks like it was used in the film Gladiator only to discover it is a genuine antique. And then you see another helmet that was used in Gladiator and is even signed by Russell Crowe. 

Even the glossy Museum Catalogue is a work of art. Not only does curator Mark Merrony write superbly, but he has nabbed some of the best living experts to talk about specialist areas. John Boardman penned the section on Greek vases. Mike Burns writes about Greek and Italian arms and armour. Dalya Alberge presents us with tasty amuse-bouches about each of the Modern Artists represented in the collection. 

And speaking of amuse-bouches… After visiting the Musée d'Art Classique de Mougins, you can go across the cobbled street to a superb restaurant called L’Amandier. Built on the site of an old olive press, it offers a ‘formule déjeuner’. For under twenty euros (at time of writing) you can have an authentic entrée of the region, a glass of wine and something called a café gourmand. What is a café gourmand? It’s a coffee with a selection of deserts, just enough to amuse your bouche. 

In a way the museum does the same thing: it amuses your mind with a small but choice selection of modern delights. So go. Enjoy a superb ‘formule classique’ at MAC Mougins.

How I Write

Recently I've had a flurry of requests for information about my writing process from students working on advanced projects. 

There is a FAQS page on my website and also a page devoted to Writing Tips, but because I believe that fiction writing is a craft that can be learned through study and practice – and because I am a teacher at heart – I have decided to to post some of the more recent questions and answers here.

I hope this helps some of you with your advanced projects and creative writing. Remember, writing is a personal process. If you don't like my answers, ignore them! I can only tell you how I write. 

How do you begin planning your books before writing them?

I make a wish list of goodies I want to include: fictional characters, real historical figures, themes, topics, ideas, myths, places, objects, food, plants, animals and sometimes even lines of dialogue. Then I map out a story structure based on a combination of Hollywood screenwriting templates I like: John Truby's Story Structure, The Hero's Journey and Save the Cat!®. This keeps me on track but I am not slavish about sticking to the route. 

Do lots of authors use similar methods of plotting?

Yes, I think many authors find a template useful. Some people can bake a cake by instinct, but I need a recipe to work from.  

Do you ever start writing without planning? 

Sometimes it's good to pour a stream of ideas onto a sheet of paper but at some point I will need a structure. For me, writing is a balance of the logical list-loving Left Brain and the creative, intuitive, Right Brain. 

Do objects enhance a story? If so, why? 

Yes! Objects and artefacts help bring a world to life. They also please the daydreaming side of our brain; the creative Right Brain likes music, sounds, smells, tastes and textures. Objects also help ground a book historically. 

Do you find weapons are frequently used in your crime novels? If yes, why is it so? 

Yes! I love my Western guns and Roman swords. I get quite nerdy because specificity is good.  

What are the differences, if any, between writing historical fiction and writing fiction which is set in the modern day? 

For me none. I treat my modern day fiction just like my historical fiction, with great attention to detail, artefacts, slang, dress, etc. For me this isn't a chore, but a delight. 

How do you research the factual portion of the story beforehand? 

The internet has a truly amazing range of literature available at the touch of a keyboard. Most of my sources for the P.K. Pinkerton books, set in Nevada Territory 1862, come from newspaper archives and old magazines, like Godey's Lady's Book, which shows up-to-the-date fashion and recipes among many other delights. 

For my Roman Mysteries I use my own collection of classical Loebs in Greek and Latin with translation on the right: Pliny the Elder, Josephus, Strabo, Herodotus, etc. They will soon be available online now, too. 

Do you have any go-to reference works? 

For my P.K. Pinkerton books I use the vast catalogue of letters and photos made available to the public at Berkeley's Mark Twain Project. I also use the massive three volume journal of Alfred Doten. This latter has not yet been digitalised so I invested in my own copy via Amazon.com. 

Do you regularly use any libraries? Which ones? 

My husband Richard is a member of The London Library. I often send him off on a quest for specific titles. Very occasionally I use the Classics Library at UCL. But I am intrinsically lazy and use the internet for 95% of my research. 

Do you use any paid-for information resources?

In writing the P.K. Pinkerton books I used Harper Magazine's online archive. I could access illustrated back issues from the mid 19th century. I also tend to buy books rather than take them out on loan. I found a book called Letters from Nevada Territory (the proceedings of the 1862 Nevada legislature) at the Nevada Legislative Gift Shop in Carson City. It was expensive but invaluable.
How do you record what information sources you use?

I usually just jot down key phrases or sentences on my computer but sometimes I will read a passage onto my iPhone and listen to it while on the go. 

To what extent does the fact you write for children and young people impact your research?

The fact that I write for young people does not affect my research at all. I access anything and everything I can. Any modification or softening of material occurs in the actual writing process. 

Do you find there are any differences between researching for an academic piece and researching for fiction?

Not really. The difference comes in the writing. In fact, I try to make my academic writing as accessible as my fiction. So you might not really call my non-fiction articles and blogs "academic" as much as popular fact. 

When writing historical fiction, how do you balance historical facts with creating an interesting story for the reader?

I try to use all the most interesting and engaging historical facts to flesh out my hero's journey. 

How far do you think you can go with historical references, given that the reading audience may not understand or recognise them?

I don't care if people get them or not. I know they give a sense of authenticity to my stories! So I use the ones that are relevant to my story. 

Which voice is more suited to historical fiction books: first person or third person?

For me, the choice of first or third person is more a feeling of trial and error to see which fits the character and story best. 

When you write, do you generally use 1st or 3rd person?  

My output as of 2014 consists of 30 novels and two collections of short stories. Roughly two thirds of those novels and stories are in the third person voice, but my half dozen most recent books are in first person.  

Do you think that there is a certain tense which is more suited to historical fiction?

Again, it depends more on the character and story being told. Present tense can be very powerful even when writing about two bronze age boys. 

How important do you think it is to visit the location in which the book is set, even if it may have changed considerably since the period that you are writing about?

Being able to visit the location of the book is one of the biggest delights in researching a book. Even though the flora may have changed with the introduction of new plants, temporal aspects like migrating birds and food in season, quality of light, atmosphere, and "three-dimensionality" don't really change. 

How much do you feel you have to stick to the known facts about historical characters and how much do you use your imagination when creating their personalities?

I like to give my characters a certain amount of free rein which is why I try not to let "real" historical characters play too big a part in my books. I failed slightly by making ten-year-old Suetonius and 18 year old Gaius Valerius Flaccus love interests in the Roman Mysteries. But I've been more self-controlled about Mark Twain's cameo's in my P.K. Pinkerton books. 

How far do you modernise the language when writing a historical character’s dialogue?

For my Roman Mysteries I use modern English because Latin would have sounded modern to them. I try to eliminate English and American phrases and cliches, while introducing a few expressions like "Pollux!" or "Great Neptune's Beard" to give the dialogue a period feel. Finally, I sprinkle in real Latin words like palla, triclinium and strigil without italicising them. 

For my P.K. Pinkerton books I am much more careful to use authentic vocabulary, word order and slang. In fact, I've composed a whole dictionary of authentic and non-authentic words for Nevada Territory in 1862. 

Do you have any final tips for would-be writers?

Always read your work out loud at least once in the final editing process. And have fun! 

P.S. When I go into schools, I talk about the Hero, the Seven Plot Beats, the Five Archetypes and other storytelling techniques like Crossing the Threshold, Save the Cat, the Dance and the Rubber Ducky. Here's a Mind Map made by creative speaker Jayne Cormie after watching a talk I did for 11-year-olds in a British prep school. Feel free to print it, use it and share it! To see more about my school events, go HERE.

Find lots more writing tips in How to Write a Great Story!

Bad Bandit, Good Writer

Recently I re-visited Terry Gilliam’s film Time Bandits, a beautiful example of historical storytelling (with a generous dash of fantasy) for kids. 

Over half term, children in London were invited to attend free screenings of three classic films followed by a talk from a children’s author. This event was co-sponsored by the Rio Cinema in Hackney and Victoria Park Books. They invited me to give a talk following Terry Gilliam’s fun 1981 film about a boy kidnapped by bandit dwarves and taken on a journey through time. At 10am on a rainy Thursday, bookseller Jo De Guia introduced the film by showing some student-made trailers for books by the three authors. (Here’s the one they made for my latest book). Then, two dozen children and their parents settled down to enjoy the main feature.  

Francesca Isherwood, Caroline Lawrence, Conrad Ford

Joining me in the balcony above were Francesca Isherwood and Conrad Ford. Fran, now aged 22, played Flavia Gemina in the CBBC Roman Mysteries series seven years ago. Conrad is the son of a family friend, a filmmaker waiting for his first break. I benefitted from their comments and observations. Fran had never seen it; she and I kept ‘snapping’ comments. Conrad has seen Time Bandits many times and kept pointing out details we might otherwise have missed. I had watched a non HD version on YouTube a few days earlier, and it was a completely different experience seeing it on a big screen where we could absorb the fantastic amount of detail that went into its making.

Time Bandits is the story of Kevin, an English boy obsessed with history. Six dwarf bandits emerge from his wardrobe one night clutching a map that shows time portals in the fabric of the universe. They have stolen the map as they want to leave their boring job in charge of shrubbery and lead the more exciting life of bandits. But they are being pursued by God (AKA the Ultimate Being) and Satan (AKA Evil), both of whom want the map back. The dwarves take Kevin with them in their flight. No more spoilers in case you haven’t seen the film. 

Jo De Guia from Victoria Park Books introduces the film

From our lofty vantage point above the stalls, Fran, Conrad and I could look down on the kids and see that they were enjoying the movie hugely. Afterwards, everybody moved a short distance to the Hackney Library where families produced a picnic lunch. As parents and children munched sandwiches and crisps, I led a discussion of the film and then offered some practical tips on how to write a gripping story. 

Good historical fiction – be it poetry, prose or film – should transport the reader to another place and time. In our discussion, we first identified the seven distinct settings or ‘arenas’ in the film Time Bandits:

1. Kevin’s World, especially his Bedroom
2. Napoleon’s Castiglione
3. Robin Hood’s Sherwood Forest
4. Agamemnon’s Ancient Greece
5. The Titanic
6. The Time of Legends
7. The Fortress of Ultimate Darkness

The Rio Cinema in Hackney, London

As we discussed the film, it occurred to me that when a competent criminal commits a crime, he leaves no evidence, no clues, no eyewitnesses and no DNA. A bad bandit, on the other hand, scatters the scene with clues, witness and DNA. 

Storytellers have to be bad bandits. We have to leave clues, present reliable and unreliable eyewitnesses, scatter our DNA everywhere. If we do, our readers will be captivated. Here are some Time Bandit-inspired techniques that writers could use to create vibrant historical fiction. 

CLUES. Props and artefacts are the clues the storyteller leaves to help us decode a world. Kevin’s home was crammed with 1980 props like microwave ovens, blenders and a television. When the film first came out, these were state-of-the-art. Thirty years later, they are historical artefacts vividly painting a place and time. Props in Napoleon’s world included torches, muskets, Punch and Judy. For Sherwood Forest we saw carriages, rope traps, bows and arrows. In ancient Greece a kind of Corinthian helmet, as well as swords and daggers were more or less accurate, as was a Mycenaean death mask like the one Schliemann claimed to have found. On the Titanic the props crew got the champagne glasses right, along with deck chairs and a tennis racquet. The Time of Legends gave us a cauldron and a giant ship, not to mention a giant who became part of the landscape in this strange world. The Fortress of Ultimate Darkness was a nightmare world where every object was a grossly inflated or exaggerated version of toy or picture from Kevin’s room. Conrad pointed out that even the plastic film that covered Evil's henchmen hearkened back to the protective covers over the couches in Kevin’s sitting room. Conrad also drew my attention to the giant LEGO pieces, chessboard and skeletons in the walls, all magnifications of items in Kevin's bedroom. 

Bad Bandits and their Map

The outstanding prop of Time Bandits is the MAP. More than a clue, it is a kind of talisman but also the object of the quest, what Hitchcock would call the MacGuffin. The bandits have stolen it and the opponent, Evil, wants it in his battle against the Supreme Being. In storytelling, it is always good to make the goal visible. And if the goal is abstract, make sure you have a concrete symbol of the goal. 

‘WHAT WAS HE WEARING?’ Good storytellers have got to be geeky about costumes. Seeing Time Bandits on a big screen was a revelation. Fran pointed out that that one of Napoleon’s generals was wearing pink long underwear… and a corset! Agamemnon and his murderous wife Clytemnestra wear fine linen tunics and jewel-coloured silk mantles with gold thread. John Cleese as a foppish Robin Hood refused to wear tights but his outfit is still Lincoln green. 

SCENE OF THE CRIME. Gilliam is specific about the setting of the story. It’s not just any town Napoleon is invading; it’s Castiglione. It’s not just any forest full of robbers; it’s Sherwood Forest. It’s not just any ocean liner; it’s the Titanic. If it’s mythical, make it as detailed as any world, a technique at which Game of Thrones excels. 

TIME OF THE CRIME. Gilliam and the writers varied the time and place of the heists to make each arena more distinctive. Napoleon’s night time fortress was lit by torch and candle. Mist and rain shrouded Sherwood Forest. Ancient Greece – filmed in Morocco – shimmered with heat. The Titanic was fair weather, midday, until they hit the iceberg. Then everything got wet and white. 

SUSPECTS. When I write historical fiction, I often scatter a few genuine historical people in the background. Put in Napoleon and you know you’re somewhere around the year 1800; mention Castiglione and you know it’s 1796. Drop in Agamemnon and you know you’re in the world of Greek mythology. Set Robin Hood in among men in tights. Plonk Bertie Wooster types on the Titanic. 

MOTIVE. As writers, we need to find motives for all our characters’ actions. When writing a history-mystery story with a crime or crimes at the centre, we have to first establish the motive for that crime. Only then do we address the detective’s motive which is usually straightforward: to solve the crime and capture the perp. But we writers need a motive, too. Why have we written this story? What is our goal? Every criminal knows what he’s after. Do we?

METHOD. We need to learn basic techniques like plot structure. And flourishes like scene deepening. We need to assemble the team, the archetypal characters who will help the hero on his journey. We need to plan, plan, plan. Keep going over the heist. Get it right. Get it down. And then, after you’ve planned it all out on the day you have to be ready to abandon that plan and go with your instincts. And all the time, keep your eye on the prize. What is this story about? What are you after?

OPPORTUNITY. Like any good pickpocket, cat burglar or heist-meister, we need to prioritize time to hone our skills. Crime is a craft. Writing is a craft. We need to make time to do it.
So, to sum up: If you want to be a Good Storyteller, be a Bad Bandit. Leave clues. Leave eyewitnesses. Scatter your DNA. 

What do I mean by that last one? The DNA? I mean find your own unique style of writing, which is already as much a part of you as your voice or your eyes. It’s back to OPPORTUNITY. You just have to find it. And the only way to do that is to write, write, write! 


My latest book is The Case of the Pistol-packing Widows, about a 12-year-old half Sioux detective in Nevada in the winter of 1862. It's out in two different hardback editions, the US and the UK. Terry Gilliam's new film The Zero Theorem opens soon. 

Andromache's Plea

On Saturday 2 November 2013, Heffers bookshop sponsored the Second Classics Fact, Fiction and Children's Literary Festival, featuring luminaries like Mary Beard, Simon Scarrow and Lindsey Davis. One of the events was a balloon debate. Five of us were asked to plead the case of a character from Classical mythology and all but one of us would be chucked out of the balloon. I spent several hours crafting a moving plea for my chosen heroine, Andromache. I even brought a black scarf to throw over my head à la Leighton's moving painting.

Andromache in exile by Frederick Lord Leighton

I am Andromache. My name means Battle of Men
Though perhaps it should be battle of brothers
I had seven of them: a quiver full.
I had to be strong, growing up with that lot.
I heard them plan hunting trips as I sat at my loom
And my shuttle became a hunting spear 
in the thickets of warp and weft.

I heard them plan raiding expeditions as I sat at my spindle
And my winding skein was a file of men on a mountain path.

I saw them slaughtered by Achilles in one afternoon
Along with my father
While my hands were red up to the elbows
In a simmering cauldron of dying beetles 
with its floating strands of yarn. 

My life unraveled; the woe unwove me.
And when Artemis slew my mother
Nothing was left but an empty loom
A bare frame of my life… A taut spare web of grief.

Then you came, Hector. 
You became not just my husband,
But my father, my mother, my brothers.
You let me weave my unraveling weft 
into your strong warp.
And we became a new tapestry together. 
You took me away a place of happy memories
Made hateful by the son of Peleus
And you brought me to high-towered Troy.

We had a son, a little lord of the citadel.
I called him Astyanax, you called him Scamandrius
After the river where we once picnicked
A buzzing, honey-scented afternoon, among the asphodel.

My brothers taught me about the hunt
But you taught me about war.
You, and your house of strong women:
Hecuba, the matriarch
Cassandra, never afraid to speak her mind
Helen, the sister-in-law from Hades
Sparta, rather… Same thing.
And at the end Polyxena, who boldly went to her sacrifice.

The last time I saw you Hector, the time
you frightened our son with you horsehair plume
I begged you not to seek the thick of battle 
making me a widow and our son an orphan
But to guard the part of the wall by the wild fig tree
Where three attempts had previously been made
By the crafty Greeks. But did you listen to my strategy? 
No. You went out
And got yourself killed by Achilles.

Not long after that, they took our little boy up
the last remaining tower to throw him off.
But before they could lay hands on him,
he stepped into air of his own volition.
Lord of the citadel to the very end.
More courageous than a thousand Greeks.

And now the son of the man who killed my husband
My father and my seven brothers
Has taken me as his prize.
The psychopath son of Achilles, Neoptolemus: 
Red-haired, hot-headed, cold-blooded Pyrrhus. 

Hector foretold my future: 
To ply the loom for another woman
And carry a heavy water jug to and from the fountain.
Jostled by laughing children and happy families.
To remain childless 
or worse yet, bear children 
to a man whose house murdered my house.

I am a “paragon of misery”. 
I do not fear death. I pray for it.
Like my brave little boy, 
I would throw myself from the ramparts of Troy
Or even from your balloon. 
That would be true bravery.
But if you judge me worthy, 
I will do something even braver: 
I will live. 

props did not help me!

How did I do? Well, Prof Paul Cartledge cannily chose the Odysseus' faithful dog, Argos. How many British would vote to save a poor pooch being tossed from the balloon? A goodly number. Ruth Downie chose Dido and won the vote of all women who've ever been lied to and abandoned by a cad like Aeneas. (Quite a few, as it turned out.) Rugby-loving, football-referencing Harry Sidebottom plumped for Hector: thick but noble, (and doomed). He got a robust number of masculine votes. But the deserved winner was witty, Diet-Coke-fuelled Natalie Haynes, who moonlights as a stand up comic and Booker Prize Judge. She made a moving and impassioned plea for Odysseus.

As for me, Andromache, I got tossed out first. 

Roman Roads and Modern Bandits

It’s not every day you come to the rescue of Robin Hood’s mum… especially not on the Appian Way.

It all started with a tweet.

Agnes Crawford runs a bespoke tour company – UnderstandingRome.com – that takes people to the places she herself would like to see. Agnes grew up in London and studied Architectural History in Edinburgh. After university she travelled to Rome to teach English as a foreign language. She found a room in the fascinating part of Rome called Trastevere. One day she went to a friend’s birthday party and met an attractive Roman physicist. They married and she has now been in Rome for a dozen years.

Agnes first heard of me when some clever British children on one of her tours told her about my Roman Mysteries books.

She tweeted me and we became Twitter pals.

Ristorante Flavio al Velavevodetto

I’ve been to Rome at least half a dozen times before in order to research my books. This time I’d been flown over courtesy of the American University of Rome to be their Writer in Residence for a week. I wanted to do something I’d never done before, so I tweeted Agnes and asked if she could give me a sample tour in return for lunch and a review. She replied with an enthusiastic yes.

We decided on the Appian Way and the Aqua Claudia. She calls this tour Roads and Water and it is one of her most popular itineraries.

Agnes usually gets a driver with a luxurious Mercedes but for our unofficial tour she picks me up in her sturdy range rover.

We go for lunch at a restaurant at the foot of Mons Testaccio, a mountain of broken potsherds located by the ancient docks of Rome. Amphoras which contained oil and wine could not be reused as the clay goes rancid. So they broke them up and made a big pile of them here. A BIG pile: Mons Testaccio means Potsherd Mountain.

Along the back wall of the Ristorante Flavio (what a good name!) are half a dozen glassed-over arches that let you look at a section cut into the mountain of shards. How fun is that?

After lunch of uniquely Roman food, we’re off to the Appian Way past the baths of Caracalla and the first milestone out of Rome. There’s a slight traffic jam here, for the ancient road is still in use, so Agnes takes a shortcut above (not through) the catacombs.

Finally we get away from the crowds to the part you always see on telly: the dove grey paving stones polished smooth by age, the flame-shaped cypress trees that always speak of graves and the lofty umbrella pines which host the creaking cicadas. Agnes is full of interesting facts and has all the dates at the front of her brain. She tells me the Appian Way first laid out by a guy called Appius Claudius (who should be far more famous than he is) and that it’s famous for being the route along which thousands of runaway slaves were crucified in the time of Spartacus.

Agnes is also an excellent source of fun gossipy facts, describing what the garden in an ambassador’s house looks like or revealing that another fabulous mansion was the setting for a scene of a recent movie. Someone who knows lots of Roman facts plus movie trivia is my kind of guide.

Agnes shows me the tomb of Metella, ruins of the bath house of Maxentius and the vast grounds of the Villa of the Quintilli which was so fabulous that Commodus confiscated it (Remember him? He was the evil Emperor from the movie Gladiator.) At one point we stop for photo op where you can see original Roman paving stones and cartwheel ruts.

We are back in the car and going slowly on account of the ancient and uneven nature of the road, when someone taps on the car window.

Agnes stops the car. It is a distraught German family consisting of a middle-aged father and mother in normal clothes, and their grown up son dressed as Robin Hood!

‘Scusi. Do you speak English?’ asks the mother. ‘A car came and took my handbag with my money in it.’

‘Was it just now?' asks Agnes.

‘Five minutes ago. They were in a small silver car.’

‘I saw him!’ cries Agnes. ‘We were driving and he came very fast. I thought: he’s going to have an accident. They were going towards Rome. The driver had very short hair.’

‘That’s right,’ says the father, who is on the phone to the police. ‘Is there a police station nearby?’

‘Yes,’ says Agnes. ‘Hop in and we’ll take you to Carabinieri at Capannelle, where my mother-in-law lives.’

Gratefully, the three Germans pile in the back. I turn to the son.

‘Why are you dressed up?’ I ask.

‘Just for fun.’

I nod sympathetically. Some of my best friends are re-enactors and I have been known to put on a stola and palla myself.

Agnes drives Robin Hood and his parents to the Carabinieri and points them in the right direction.

Our good deed for the day accomplished, we drive on to the Aqua Claudia – a stunning stretch of aqueduct famous for appearing in the first scene of the most famous Italian film ever made: La Dolce Vita (The Sweet Life) by Federico Fellini.

What used to be fields of wildflowers at the foot of the aqueduct is now a golf course. ‘Fellini appreciated the surreal aspects of Roman life,’ says Agnes. ‘He would approve.’

I am content. Agnes’ tour Roads and Water was all I hoped it would be: peaceful, atmospheric and fun. 

Even if you don’t usually do guided tours, this one is worth it because you will visit places difficult to get to without a car.

And in Agnes you will have the perfect guide: one not only versed in fun facts and gossipy trivia, but a Good Samaritan as well.