Classics Bucket List

When you first became interested in Classics, did you have certain goals? Perhaps you dreamt of reading Homer in the original Greek? Or of learning to scan lines of Virgil? Did you hope your Classics degree might give you a grasp of Greek philosophy or insight into Roman politics? Did you imagine yourself doing certain things? Wandering ancient ruins in the shimmering heat of the Mediterranean sun? Drinking retsina under a grape arbour at dusk on the coast of some island? Swimming in the same dark waters sailed by Odysseus and Cleopatra?

How many of those dreams and goals have you realised? Maybe it's time to take stock. To ponder which can be ticked off a list and which can stay on. When I was thinking about this talk, I sent out a tweet asking Classicists what goals they still had. 80% of the answers were intellectual: e.g. to memorise a speech, learn a language, grasp a concept. Only 20% had to do with physical activity, usually a pilgrimage to some ancient site or trek along some famous road. We Classicists exist so much in our heads that I thought I would make most of the items on my list about the physical tasks rather than mental goals. My aim with this list of suggestions is to encourage you to use all five senses to reconnect with your original dreams and goals, so you can be inspired and inspire others. 

1. MEMORISE A PASSAGE - Learning something by heart is a precious thing. Memorise a speech or poem in Latin, Greek or Hebrew. Not only will you inspire your students, you will have something to recite when you find yourself in an ancient Greek theatre with those famously excellent acoustics. And a speech or poem is always more impressive than saying testing one two three when you’re trying out a microphone. Best of all, the passage becomes part of you. Tip: Recite it every morning while doing your push ups and crunches.

my kylix from the Vatican giftshop

2. START COLLECTING ARTEFACTS - It’s always fun to collect replica artefacts that you can play with and use in class. I like to buy one at every ancient site I visit. This can be costly at times, but it gives you a entry into the mindset of ancient Greeks or Romans as your teeth click on the ceramic rim of a kylix or as you hold a guttering oil lamp at night. Artefacts are an amazing way of bringing a text alive, of transferring knowledge from your head to your heart. The physician’s cupping instrument taught me about the four humours, the strigil about the baths, the sponge-stick about Roman hygiene.

my replica strigil and oil flask

3. TAKE YOUR STRIGIL TO THE BATHS - In Rome last year, I met two experts on ancient Roman thermae or baths. Neither one of them had ever been to a hammam or public bathhouse of any kind! How can you study Roman baths without ever trying out the nearest thing? A trip to a Turkish bath or hammam can be a sensory revelation. In a hammam in the old town of Fez, I once saw a boy shovelling sawdust into the underfloor furnace, just like a Roman hypocaust. I went to another Fez hammam at night and the electric lights glowed in the steam like oil-lamps. I almost fainted after the hot room because I got up too fast. With its cream and apricot marble and dome pierced with elaborate steam vents, Cağaloğlu Hamamı in Istanbul is so opulent that a visit makes you feel like a Roman emperor or empress. Tip: You don't have to go to Morocco or Turkey, there is a Roman Bath in Bayswater with rooms marked tepidarium, caldarium and laconicum. Take a flask of oil and your replica strigil to the Porchester Spa. 

Man on Market Street, San Francisco

4. TRY CUPPING - Cupping teaches you about the four humours, one of the ancient mindsets we've forgotten. The cupping instrument was such a common aspect of Greek and Roman life that doctors often hung replica ones outside their surgeries or put reliefs of them on their tombs. But many classicists wouldn't know a cupping vessel if they saw it. Cupping was designed to balance the humours bringing you back to health and stability. Reading Book VI of the Iliad, I suddenly realised that Hector is melancholy by nature and Paris – likened to a leaping stallion – is sanguine. Tip: Your local Chinese doctor or Acupuncture technician can do dry or wet cupping. 

Chris Lydamore

5. THROW A POT - I once attended a workshop in London where children in inner city primary schools were asked to make amphorae from plastic cups, masking tape and balloons! This was supposed to give them an grasp of the shape and function of amphorae in the ancient world. Arghh! How much better for them to have seen a potter at work or even had a go themselves to get a feel for the manufacture of real pots and jars. I was lucky enough to take pottery in high school. I still remember the feel of the lump of clay spinning between my hands, of how you have to pump the wheel with your foot making your thigh ache after a while, of how a pillar of wet clay grows and wobbles and tips if you haven't centred it. The slippery feel of clay water, the leathery texture of a partly dried pot, the chalky texture of a cup painted with glaze before the firing and its delightfully glossy durability afterwards. Tip: Your local community college or City Lit (in London) should offer courses in pottery or ceramics.

The Cambridge Greek play in 2013

6. ATTEND (OR STAGE) A GREEK PLAY - Oxford's Armand d’Angour dreams of seeing an authentic reconstruction of an Ancient Greek tragic chorus. He’s hoping to stage one himself in 2015. Those of you who are teachers have a captive cast and crew. You could always do an adaptation or a musical version. In Cambridge last year, I saw a superb double bill of Prometheus and The Frogs by Helen Eastman and others.  Personally, I would love to see the ancient version of a pantomime, in which a single pantomime dancer wearing a mask would dance out a story sung by accompanying musicians. We don't have any surviving examples, unfortunately, but you could put your own interpretation on it. 

with Andrew Ashmore 

7. TAKE PART IN A RE-ENACTMENT - You don't have to be in the front line. Re-enactments are not always about fighting. Sometimes they're about dressing up. You can be a poet or scribe or camp follower. If you don't take part in one, try to attend one. Wander from stall to stall, event to event. Talk to the re-enactors. They have insight into the classical world that can only be gleaned from sleeping in a field under a leather tent or cooking recipes from Apicius on a coal brazier or wearing a chain mail shirt all day. Tip: The British Museum and Museum of London stage regular re-enactment events. Check out this film clip about Gladiator Games held in London's Guildhall Yard. 

Ben Kane walks for charity

8. GO ON A PILGRIMAGE - Ray Laurence, professor of Classics at the University of Kent, tweeted his dream of following the Via Flaminia from Rimini to Rome. Liz Gloyn would walk Hadrian's Wall. Classics teacher Andrew Christie from Rugby School has the grand ambition to follow the footsteps of Alexander the Great. But why not aim high, like Andrew? You only live once. If you need an excuse to attempt a pilgrimage, why not go on a sponsored walk as author Ben Kane recently did. He and some dedicated friends walked from Capua to Rome in full armour! Tip: train for this one. 

Ostia Antica, numinous and magical

9. VISIT AN ANCIENT SITE - Have you stood in the ruins of Troy or climbed Vesuvius? Cambridge professor Mary Beard would like to go to Palmyra and Mons Porphyritus. Oxford professor Llewelyn Morgan dreams of climbing Mount Ilam in Pakistan. American Latin teacher Edward Zarrow wants to take his kids to Leptis. Many of my friends claim their interest in the subject was first sparked by a visit to an ancient site, not always an exotic or glamorous one. Tip: Ostia Antica is my favourite ancient site in the whole world. It has an almost numinous quality and is only an hour from Rome by train.

Santa Lucia fishing village in Naples

10. VISIT A CITY WITH A CLASSICAL HERITAGE - After many years of avoiding Naples, my husband and I spent a week there on the advice of Professor Andrew Wallace-Hadrill. We stayed in the peaceful Santa Lucia district – a hidden fishing village at the foot of the Castel dell'Ovo – and we fell utterly in love with the city. Vibrant, crowded, full of superstition and joie-de-vivre, Naples is probably the closest I will get to travelling back in time to Pompeii. Sadly, many Classicists avoid Naples apart from a half-day visit to the National Museum. Athens is another city that has a reputation of being hot and crowded, but if you go off-season, it can be a thrilling experience. We are living in a golden age of air fare and from the UK you can get to Classical cities more cheaply than any at other time in history. Tip: EasyJet.

Puy du Fou near Nîmes in France

11. ATTEND A BULLFIGHT OR CHARIOT RACE - You can't go back in time to the Colosseum for beast hunts and gladiatorial combats or to the Circus Maximus for chariot races. But the closest equivalent to a day in the amphitheatre is a day at a bullfight. If the idea of watching a bull being slaughtered offends you there are bullfights in France where the bull is not killed. This can be an eye-opening experience. The shape of the arenas is the same. Bull stadia are often draped in garlands, as we know the Colosseum was. You can rent a cushion and buy a snack, just like in Roman times. The most important person sits at the shady end of the oval nearest the sand (Latin harena = arena, of course). Dead animals are dragged off with hooks and the bloody sand raked over. Music was played then and is played now. Less evocative are modern chariot races. Health and safety means we will never legally watch twelve four-horse chariots race round a track at breakneck speed, but the Puy du Fou in France probably comes closest. Tip: You need a car for the Puy du Fou but not for the Great Roman Games at Nîmes. Just fly to Nîmes, get a bus to the city centre and you're there!  

The Amber Fury

12. WRITE A NOVEL OR SCREENPLAY - As a Classicist, you have enough insight and knowledge to write a book. Maybe you will write the next Eagle of the Ninth or The Last of the Wine. It could be a child’s picture book about the Trojan Horse, your own translation of Catullus' Love Poetry, or a tongue-in-cheek re-telling of Homer's Odyssey in the style of The Diary of A Wimpy Kid... Oh wait! That's been done. Classicist Natalie Haynes has recently written a contemporary novel based on a Greek tragedy template: The Amber Fury. Or, if a novel doesn't appeal, You could write a screenplay based on a updated Greek myth or re-telling of a fascinating incident from history. I am currently kicking myself that I didn't think of Ruby Sparks, the Pygmalion story from a writer's point of view, or Mark Wahlberg's upcoming The Roman, a filmed version of teenage Julius Caesar's abduction by pirates. If you're really ambitious, why not map out a whole TV series about Theseus or Hadrian? Tip: Find a good story structure method, like Save the Cat.

So those are my dozen suggestions of things you might want to do before you KICK THE BUCKET. If you don't like them, come up with your own! 

Tweet me @CarolineLawrenc to let me know how you get on. Or leave your suggestions in the comments section below.  Bona fortuna! Good luck!

P.S. My personal bucket list:

1. To memorise twenty lines of Homer's Iliad

2. Acquire a replica bronze age helmet with lining and crest

3. Take a pottery class and make a Geometric cup

4. Take part in a real Roman banquet, reclining on couches

5. Watch a Roman pantomime (or something close to it)

6. Climb Mount Vesuvius to the crater

7. Spend the night among the ruins of Troy

8. Visit Jerusalem

9. Witness a chariot race at Puys du Fou

10. Write an HBO television adaptation of the Aeneid

[This post is based on my presidential address at the JACT AGM and conference in May 2014.]

A Day in the Life of a Roman Girl

Flavia Gemina, 10, is an amateur detective. She lives in the Roman port of Ostia with her father Marcus Flavius Geminus, her ex-slave-girl Nubia, her tutor Aristo, two slaves and two dogs. (This interview was given in November AD 79)

My dog Scuto wakes me at sunrise. He presses his cold nose into my face and I open my eyes to see his face looming in a big, panting grin. If I've been up late the night before, I roll over and go back to sleep. Scuto knows it's no good trying to wake me if I'm tired, so he goes downstairs to help our cook Alma prepare breakfast. She goes out to buy bread at cockcrow and is usually back by dawn.

a lyre

Presently I hear music - the sound of flute and lyre. Nubia usually practises with my tutor Aristo first thing in the morning. Nubia's about 11 - a little older than I am. She used to be my slave-girl but she saved my life so many times that finally I set her free. She still lives with us though. Now she's like my dark-skinned sister. If Scuto doesn't get me up, the music does.

Nubia coifs Flavia

Nubia likes clothes and jewellery but I'm not too bothered about all that. I lace up my sandals and slip on any old tunic, a short one in summer and a long one in winter. Then I go downstairs. Our house has a secret garden inside: nobody on the street can see it. In the center is a fountain. I splash some water on my face and have a drink. Then I use the latrine. This month it's my job to empty the latrine bucket every morning - but that's another story.

We all eat breakfast whenever we come downstairs: usually a warm poppy-seed roll and a piece of cheese in summer and a hot poculum made of spiced wine mixed with milk in winter.

a lararium or shrine

By the time I appear, pater is usually up and at work in his study, preparing for the day ahead. He calls the whole household together into the atrium and we watch him make the daily offering at the household shrine. It might be a honey-cake, or a piece of fruit, or a hyacinth-scented candle. Just something to keep the household gods happy. My father didn't used to be so pious... but that's another story.

After morning prayers, pater goes out: to the barber first and then to call on his patron. Then he goes to the harbour to work on his ship and do whatever a captain does when he's not on a voyage. Of course he's home at the moment because the sailing season is over; it won't begin again until late April.

Jonathan and his sister Miriam

After pater leaves, about an hour past dawn, Jonathan and Lupus come over for lessons. Jonathan is my next-door-neighbour. He's Jewish. We became friends after he saved me from some wild dogs... But that's another story. I like Jonathan because he makes me laugh.

Lupus is a boy we discovered once in the necropolis outside the town walls. He has no tongue and can't speak. He's a bit wild but very clever. He learned to read in less than a month and now he can write, too. We think he's about eight or nine years old.

Lupus' name means "wolf" in Latin

Lupus lives with Jonathan at the moment and they have lessons with me and Nubia. Jonathan's father Mordecai and my father came to some arrangement. I think Mordecai gives us free medical care in return: he's an excellent doctor.  Jonathan's older sister Miriam used to attend lessons with us, but now she's preparing to get married. She's fourteen and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Aristo the Greek tutor

Aristo is a brilliant tutor. He's young and Greek and very handsome. (When I was younger I wanted to marry him, but now I'm too mature for such childish ideas.) He teaches us Latin literature, Greek language, mythology, philosophy and maths. Ugh! I hate maths. I hate it almost as much as I hate emptying the latrine bucket.

Lessons last until noon, when the gongs announce the opening of the public baths. Then we have a light lunch of bread and cheese and olives. Afterwards the adults take a siesta or go to the baths. That's usually when we conduct our investigations. But during the winter months - like now - Nubia likes to go to the baths, too. She says the only time she feels warm is in the hot, dry laconicum or the steamy sudatorium.

dining Roman style

Pater usually goes out to dinner about four hours past noon. He dines with his patron or one of his friends. In that case, Nubia and I have something light with Alma and Caudex. (Caudex is our door-slave and sometimes my bodyguard.) Occasionally pater entertains at home and sometimes we are invited. We never recline - well, only at the Saturnalia. We sit at a table in the middle of the triclinium while pater and his friends recline on the three couches around us.

reading by lamplight

We go to bed at sunset, or shortly after, which is nice in the summer but very frustrating in the winter. Alma says it's bad for my eyes, but sometimes I smuggle a scroll up to my bedroom and read by the light of my little clay oil-lamp. My favourite scroll at the moment is one by Apollodorus. He tells lots of Greek myths. I finally fall asleep and dream that I'm going on a quest with Jason or helping Hercules complete his tasks. My dreams are always in colour and they are very exciting. But they are never as exciting as my real life!

This interview is an excerpt from The Roman Mysteries Treasury, a glossy book based on the TV series based on my 17 book series The Roman Mysteries, which covers almost every imaginable aspect of life in Italy at the time of Mount Vesuvius's eruption. The Treasury is now out of print but you can still get the books and the TV series on DVD. Please mention The Roman Mysteries if quoting and acknowledge photos © LEG Ltd 2007. Thanks! 

A Day in Ostia

A Day in Ostia Antica: the ancient port of Rome

NB: The site of Ostia Antica is open almost every day of the year, EXCEPT Mondays

I first visited the site of Rome's ancient sea port one summer afternoon when I was a sixteen-year-old high school student on a study-tour from California. Like almost everyone I know who has visited Ostia, I fell in love with it. I wanted to go back in time so that I could wander its streets, watch a play in the theatre, visit one of its many baths complexes. That afternoon in Ostia was one of the experiences that prompted me to study Classics and become a Latin teacher. A few decades later, when I began planning my series of children's mystery stories set in ancient Roman times, I decided to have my main characters live in Ostia.

In Roman times Ostia would have been a busy port town, exotic and lively, brimming with people from all over the Roman empire: Greeks, Egyptians, Nubians, Jews, Syrians and Gauls. In the first century AD, Ostia's main function was to receive grain from Egypt and Sicily and to ship it on to Rome and its one million inhabitants. This grain was stored in Ostia's many warehouses and sometimes made into bread before being transported by barge along the winding Tiber to the capital city, fourteen miles away. In addition to the usual residents of a first century Roman town there would have been sailors, stevedores, ship-owners, storehouse managers, customs officers, rope-makers, sail-makers, and plenty of unsavoury types. When I asked one Classical scholar what ancient Ostia would have been like, he replied 'nowhere to bring up my child if I could avoid it!'

Today, Ostia is no longer bustling and dangerous, but quiet and peaceful. Over the past two thousand years the mouth of the Tiber has silted up, pushing the coastline away from Ostia. The site is landlocked and long deserted. Wandering around its ruins, you will find the remains of baths, temples, houses, shops, taverns, latrines and even a theatre. You can see traces of frescoes on the walls, half standing columns, marble thresholds and millstones from bakeries. One of the most distinctive features of Ostia are its black-and-white mosaics. They are everywhere.

Although Ostia is not as well-preserved as Pompeii, it's much more accessible (a single one way ticket will take you all the way from Rome) and much less crowded. If you are based in Rome, an excursion to Ostia is the perfect day trip. Wear a sunhat and trainers, and dress in layers. Ostia can be cool and foggy in the morning and blazing hot by the afternoon. From Rome, take the metro's Linea B to the stop called Piramide, then change by going up the escalator and down the steps into Porta San Paolo station for the 'light railway' to Ostia Antica. The last station on the Rome-Ostia line is Cristoforo Colombo. (Ostia Antica is the stop after Acilia and before Ostia Nord.) Get off at Ostia Antica and go out of the station and over the blue footbridge. Continue straight along a residential street and carefully cross the busy road on a blind curve opposite the restaurant called Allo Sbarco di Enea. Go past the restaurant (which will be on your right) and follow the road to the parking lot and ticket kiosk. For more detailed instructions go HERE.

Parents travelling with children might enjoy THIS ARTICLE by Nick Trend, a dad who took his children to Ostia.

Allo Sbarco Di Enea - The first thing you notice on your right, after crossing the main road, is a restaurant with chariots parked in its vine-shaded courtyard. Peer through the fence and you'll also notice statues, frescoes and a fountain. This is a touristy but fun place where all the waiters wear tunics. It's called Allo Sbarco Di Enea, which means 'Where Aeneas Got Off'. Aeneas was the Trojan hero who fled his burning city and eventually settled in Italy to become the father of the Roman people. The food is mediocre and the place only comes alive after 9.00pm - Italians eat late - but it can be a fun experience if you go with a big group.

The Thieves of Ostia, first in the Roman Mysteries series

Umbrella pines - Something else you notice about Ostia even before you enter the site are the pines. With their rough textured bark in shades of caramel, nutmeg and honey, their lofty fragrant canopies provide homes to chittering birds in winter and spring, chirring cicadas in summer and autumn. These trees offer cool shade in the summer and shelter from rain in the winter. Today, there are thousands of these beautiful trees in and around Ostia, making it one of the greenest suburbs of Rome.

The umbrella pine - pinus pinea - was a striking feature of the Italian coast even in Roman times. Pliny the Younger says the cloud emerging from Vesuvius looked like an umbrella pine, ie. a trunk-like column of smoke rising up and then flattening out at the top. Of course there are other trees in Ostia: cypress, poplar, oak, mimosa, myrtle, oleander and other species of pine, but for me the umbrella pine is Ostia's trademark. In my first book, The Thieves of Ostia, Flavia, Jonathan and Nubia catch their first glimpse of Lupus when he is trapped up one of these Ostian pines by some wild dogs. Today you can still see (tame) dogs lolling in the dappled shade among the tombs.

The Tombs - Romans were not allowed to bury their dead within the city but to made sure their departed relatives and friends were as close as possible, they placed tombs along main roads right up to the town walls. So tombs are the first thing you'll see when you enter the site of Ostia. They are fascinating, but leave them for later. Lupus, the youngest member of Flavia's gang, lived wild among the tombs of Ostia for two years after he escaped the clutches of Venalicius the slave-dealer.

The Roman Gate - There's not much left of the Porta Romana. In Flavia's time it would have been an impressive arch, faced with marble and flanked with statues of Victory and Minerva. Once you are 'inside' the town walls, look ahead and to the left. Beneath some umbrella pines, you can still see a long water trough for the thirsty mules that pulled carts to and from Rome. It is under the shade of those very trees that Flavia approaches two gaming cartdrivers to arrange transport from Ostia to Rome in The Assassins of Rome.

The Baths - The Romans loved their baths. In Flavia's time Ostia had a population of about 20,000 making it a relatively small town. But it was served by no less than 18 public baths complexes. Before you carry on down the main road, have a look at my favourite baths in Ostia: the Cartdrivers' Baths. You'll find them on your right, opposite the mule trough. Walk behind the remains of storehouses until you reach the modern tree-lined road giving access to archaeologists and site workers. Also known as the Termii Cisarii, the Cartdrivers' Baths were exclusively for the muleteers who drove carts to and from Rome. Look for the delightful black-and-white mosaic of four mules with their names written beside them. If you've read The Assassins of Rome, you'll know what their names mean: Pudes (Modest), Podagrosus (Lame), Barosus (Dainty) and Potiscus (Tipsy).

The Decumanus Maximus - Go back to the main road and carry on past the ancient shopping arcade towards the Baths of Neptune with their impressive black-and-white mosaics of tritons and sea-nymphs. A platform here gives a wonderful view not only of the mosaics but of the whole site. This road is the main road of Ostia and it's called the Decumanus Maximus. As at Pompeii, you can see the ruts made by a hundred thousand carts which carried grain and other goods to and from the port. (The round wishing-well in the centre of this road is medieval. Ignore it.) The Decumanus Maximus will take you past brick granaries and the marble theatre to Ostia's forum. Lupus runs down the Decumanus Maximus in The Assassins of Rome when he is trying to catch a cart and he almost knocks over a slave carrying a jar of urine. This liquid was very useful in the cleaning and bleaching of cloth, so ancient laundries (known as the fullers') would not have smelled very pleasant.

The Theatre - This was the one of the first buildings in Ostia to be excavated, over a hundred years ago, because its ruins were visible, poking up above ground. It has been heavily but accurately restored. As you enter beneath a cool arch, look up to see the elegant stucco decorations on the ceiling. In Flavia's time, the theatre held 2,500 people. Today it attracts cats, doves, wood pigeons and tourists of all nationalities. 

I was sitting here in May of 2000 eating pistachio nuts and an apple when I saw a party of Italian schoolgirls skipping rope on the grassy disused stage. One of the girls reminded me of Flavia. The mosaic portrait of Flavia on the front of the British editions is based on a drawing I made from my photo of Francesca. Sometimes, plays are still put on here in the summer months. Information and tickets can be obtained from the Ostia ticket kiosk at the entrance to the site. For more information check the Official Ostia website.

This elephant marks the office of beast importers of Sabratha

The Forum of the Corporations - located directly behind the theatre, this large complex was built on several storeys around a temple of Ceres. This is where guilds (or 'corporations') of ship-owners, marine-suppliers, importers and grain-traders had their offices and did business. Shaded by ancient umbrella pines, the delightful black-and-white mosaics illustrate the different offices. Elephants, boar, tigers marked the offices of wild beast importers, ships and images of Ostia's famous lighthouse indicated ship owners, and baskets with their leveling rods were for the grain-traders. Flavia and her friends come here in search of clues and interview a wild beast importer in The Twelve Tasks of Flavia Gemina.

The Forum - Go back to the Decumanus Maximus and into the forum, the main business centre of ancient Ostia. Here the dominating landmark is a big brick building atop a stepped platform. This temple to the Capitoline triad - Jupiter, Juno and Minerva - would have been faced with marble to cover the brick. Called the Capitoleum, this temple would have had a treasury in its basement. It is in the shadow of this temple that the evil slave-dealer Venalicius parades his slaves -- including the beautiful young Nubia -- in The Thieves of Ostia.

The Basilica - to the right of the Capitoleum - if you are standing on its steps looking out - is the Basilica of Ostia. Every Roman town had a basilica to house law-courts and magistrates' offices. Ostia's junior magistrate Marcus Artorius Bato works here. Flavia first meets him in The Thieves of Ostia but he appears again in later books to help the four with their investigations.

The Temple of Rome and Augustus - opposite the lofty red-brick temple of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva you will see the remains of the temple of Rome and Augustus. Flavia and Nubia come here in The Twelve Tasks of Flavia Gemina and find a clue in the face of the cult statue of Rome, personified as a beautiful Amazon with her foot on the globe of the world.

Roman Toilets - while you're in the Forum, don't miss Ostia's most amusing landmark, the twenty-four seater forica or public toilets, near the Temple of Rome and Augustus by the Forum Baths. Ancient Romans did their business right next to each other, with no doors or dividing walls. They sat chatting, gossiping, even extending dinner invitations. The holes on top of the cool marble bench are for the obvious thing. The holes at the front are for the sponge-stick, ancient Roman toilet paper. When you finished wiping your bottom with it, you put it in a basin of water for the next person to use! Lupus has obviously never been here, or he'd know a sponge-stick is not for beating a drum as he thinks in The Dolphins of Laurentum.

Shrine of the Crossroads - just past the Forum, the Decumanus Maximus ends in a fork. Crossroads were sacred places in Roman times and there was a temple here, where two lofty cypress trees stand today. Lupus comes here one cold December dusk during the festival of Saturnalia, and he makes some exciting discoveries.

The Museum - Ostia's museum only opens in the morning but doesn't take long to explore, so make sure you have a quick look before lunch. Ostia's finest statues have been brought here to keep them safe from robbers and from the elements.

The Bakeries - near the museum you can find a relatively well-preserved bakery. Ostia was the bread-basket of Rome. Huge shipload of grain from Egypt and Sicily were stored in beautiful red-brick warehouses before being towed on mule-powered barges up to Rome. Sometimes the grain was made into bread before it was transported, hence the many bakeries in Ostia. Notice the distinctive hourglass mills (grain grinders.) These would have been operated by blindfolded donkeys going round and round for hours. You can still see the circular trace of their hoofprints in the herringbone pattern of the brick floor. The Code of Romulus is a Roman Mystery short story partly set in an Ostian bakery.

The Synagogue - Built in the middle of the first century AD, this one of the oldest in the world. You will find it at the edge of the site, near perimeter fence. See the modern highway? That's where the ancient shoreline would have been. In fact, as you pass Ostia in a car, the synagogue is the building you can see most clearly. All that's left of it today are a few pillars and blocks of marble, but you can see Latin inscriptions in some of the marble paving stones. In spring swifts and swallows swoop in the warm air feasting on tiny bugs, and you can see butterflies fluttering among the columns and minuscule red spider mites on the coloured marble floor. Jonathan and his friends seek refuge in the synagogue when they are being chased by slave-dealers in The Thieves of Ostia. Later, in The Gladiators from Capua, the friends 'borrow' a disused cube of marble from beside the synagogue to make a tomb.

Flavia's house - Use your map to find your way through the long grasses from the synagogue towards the Laurentum Gate. Here in a quieter residential area of Ostia (these houses date from the time of Julius Caesar) you'll find the residence of Cartilia Poplicola, a young Roman widow who fancies Flavia's father. Moving back towards the entrance of the site, parallel with the Decumanus Maximus, you'll find a fullers', a mithraeum and more storehouses. What you won't find is Flavia's house, or Jonathan's, or even Green Fountain Street. I made a conscious decision to have my characters live in an unexcavated part of the town. One day I hope they'll build a life-sized reconstruction of their houses - complete with Roman frescoes, fountains, mosaics, furniture and fittings. Until then, you can sit in the shade of an umbrella pine munching olives, cheese and bread. Imagine that you are sitting in the tablinum (study) of Flavia's father, looking into the inner garden. (Another route to the site of Flavia's house is the little side road leading off the Decumanus Maximus just before the theatre.)

If you haven't brought a picnic lunch you can go back to the new snack-bar near the Museum. Here you can eat a delicious pasta or salad at parasol-shaded table on a pleasant terrace only a stone's throw from the Tiber River. Just the other side of this sunny courtyard is a bookshop where you can buy guide books and souvenirs, including a kit to make your own black-and-white mosaic of a dolphin. Oh, and the (modern) toilets are here! After lunch, explore the site. Let your feet guide you. Lose yourself in Flavia's world. Look out for landmarks from The Twelve Tasks of Flavia Gemina: inscriptions mentioning Cartilius Poplicola, a covered fountain, a many-spouted fountain, baths, stables and - near the Capitoleum - the wonderful Inn of Diana, just like the one where Lupus games with some men in a little courtyard.

Ostia Lido - After a day exploring Ostia, treat yourself to an ice cream and orangina down by the sea. Lido Centro (Central Beach) is only one more stop on the train line. Walk from the train station down to the seafront where you'll find dozens of beachside cafés with roofs of slatted bamboo and further north a marina with shopping. In the summer months its very lively here in Lido Centro, this is where modern Romans come to cool off. Off-season it's deserted, but you can still find somewhere to sit and wonder at how brave Roman sailors were. On blustery spring days the wind marches whitecaps across the brown water and makes the canvas awnings flap and crack. It was on this beach, or its ancient equivalent, that Flavia and her friends rescued Pliny the Elder, and received a Latin riddle that would set in motion an exciting adventure in The Secrets of Vesuvius. And of course the port plays an important part at the end of the last book of the series, The Man from Pomegranate Street, when the friends sail away for new adventures.

Caroline Lawrence on the beach at Ostia Lido (a few miles from Ostia Antica)

Some of the photos on this site are from The Roman Mysteries TV series. The rest are mine!

[The Roman Mysteries books are perfect for children aged 9+, especially those studying Romans as a topic in Key Stage 2. Viewers in some regions can watch season one of the Roman Mysteries on iTunes. For more fun things to do in Ostia, Rome and Pompeii, download the Roman Mysteries Travel Guide to your Kindle or tablet. Carrying on from the Roman Mysteries, the Roman Quests series set in Roman Britain launched in May 2016 with Escape from Rome.]