The New Age

Today in town - while battling through crowds of zombie shoppers - I was overcome by a most shocking noise!

Was it a car horn, or perhaps the intruder alarm from a high street shop? Whatever it was, I cannot say.

However, I was struck with a profound understanding that nothing following would be the same again.

"... the most striking phenomenon of all was when the sound of a trumpet rang out from a perfectly clear and cloudless sky with a shrill, prolonged and dismal note so loud that people were driven half crazy with terror. The Etruscan wise men declared that this portent foretold a change over into a new age and a total revolution in the world. According to them there are eight ages in all. In each age the lives and manners of men are different and God has established for each age a definate span of time which is determined by the circuit of the Great Year. Whenever this circuit comes to an end and another begins some marvelious sign appears either on earth or in the heavens so that it becomes at once clear to those that have made a thorough study of the subject that men of a differnt character and way of life have now come into the world and the gods will be either more or less concerned with this new race than they were with their predecessors."

[Plutrach, Life of Sulla, 7]

Halloween 2009

This year I came over all strange feeling around Halloween!
It could have been something I ate? Perhaps those Mini Babybells had been at the bottom of my bag for a couple of days longer than was prudent!

Whatever it was, I certainly felt off colour for a bit and I was subject to some rather strange and powerful impulses [the less said the better]!

Anyway - I was back to normal the next day and I reasoned that I never really had been that close with my neighbours anyway.

Its strange the sudden turns that can come over a young emperor. Suddenly I have a bit more understanding for my distant uncles Caligula and Nero.

[Max Schreck's iconic Nosferatu]

Augustus on Friends

"He did not easily or quickly form friendships with any person, but maintained them with great constancy; not only honouring the virtue and merits of his friends as they deserved, but bearing likewise with their faults and vices provided that they did not overpower the good in them."

[Suetonius, Augustus, 66]

Happy Birthday to Me.

This Summer saw the passing of my 34th birthday and I have to confess I felt a little funny about it.

In a self-reflective mood, I asked myself the typical questions that one does at such moments: was I getting too old? ; had life been passing me by a bit? ; and what had I achieved to date?

It was while posing such questions that I was reminded of the reported words of my great, great ... [etc] uncle Caesar, of whom it was said that:

"... when he was in Spain and had some leisure he was reading some part of the history of Alexander and, after sitting for a long time lost in his own thoughts, burst into tears. His friends were surprised and asked him the reason. 'Don't you think', he said, 'that I have something worth being sorry about,when I reflect that at my age Alexander was already king over so many peoples, while I have never yet achieved anything really remarkable?'

Alexander died at the startlingly young age of 33, having conquered much of the known world. Julius Caesar however, did not even embark upon the great period of his career until he was well into his 40's and indeed did not reach the pinnacle of that career until into his 60's!

Its classical musings such as these that re-assure a young emperor and remind me that there is no fixed age at which one can flourish.

Resilience

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ..."

[Saint Paul: 2 Corinthians; 4: 8-12]

[St Paul]

Returning Home

'As for your home-coming, I myself was never in any doubt: I knew in my heart that you would get back ... And now, to convince you, let me show you the Ithacan scene. ...'

As she [Athene] spoke the goddess dispersed the mist, and the countryside stood plain to view. And now joy came at last to the gallant long suffering Odysseus. So happy did the sight of his own land make him that he kissed the generous soil, then with uplifted hands invoked the Nymphs:

'And I had thought, you Nymphs of the Springs, you Daughters of Zeus, that I should never set my eyes on you again! Accept my greetings and my loving prayers. Gifts too will follow as in days gone by, if through the kindness of this warrior Child of Zeus I am allowed to live and see my son grow up.'

'Be bold,' said Athene of the flashing eyes, 'and dismiss all such doubts from your heart. ...'

[Homer, The Odyssey, XIII. 352-360]

The Emperor's New Clothes

Last month saw the dramatic launch of John Galliano's 2010 fashion collection in an abandoned swimming pool at Paris fashion week.*

One of the key themes of Galliano's new and dramatic collections was his highly stylised portrayal of the French Napoleonic period. Stunning interpretations of early Napoleonic chic, were characterised by finely tailed jackets, Bonapartine hats and sumptuous sashes. All sported by ghost-like, laurel wearing models; dramatically referencing the early image of the diminutive Emperor.

-----------

The notorious Roman Emperor Caligula, also nurtured a distinctive flair for fashion.

On this point, Suetonius - that most wicked of imperial biographers - noted:

"His apparel not only did not conform to any national or civil fashion: it was not even peculiar to the male sex, or appropriate to mere mortals. He often went abroad clad in a short coat of stout cloth, richly embroidered in many colours, and studded with gems, in a tunic with long sleeves, and wearing bracelets. Sometimes he was seen all in silks and habited like a woman; at other times in the crepidae or buskins; sometimes in the sort of shoes worn by the light armed soldiers, or in the sock used by women and commonly with a golden beard fixed to his chin, holding in his hand a thunderbolt, a trident or a caduceus, marks of distinction belonging to the gods only. Sometime he even appeared in the costume of Venus. He constantly wore the triumphal ornaments, even before his expedition, and sometimes the breastplate of Alexander the Great, taken out of his coffin"

[Suetonius, Life of Caligula, 52]

------------

I think we can rest assured that no one would have laughed at Caligula's garb - at least not to his face.

*(Must suppress obvious quotes from the spoof movie, Zoolander)

In Search of Scottish Cowboys

[Chaotic scenes from East Lothian, Scotland]

OK, so don't all stampede at once, but the advert below is a genuine posting that I found on the Edinburgh Gumtree network this week.

-------------------------------------
Date posted: Wednesday 8th July Ad viewed: 52 times
Location: East Coast

Hi,

United Casting are currently looking for people to be extras in a film shooting on the east coast of Scotland.

We are looking for men and women who have access to cowboy outfits and/or line dancing outfits for a western scene.

If you are interested and you own the necessary costume please contact Murray at info@unitedcasting.co.uk ASAP

Please attach name, contact number and a photo if possible

Thanks,

Murray

United Casting
------------------------------

Its just this kind of random post that makes Gumtree great - if only for the entertainment!

Sheesh, if my good chaps were not in at the dry cleaners just now - there would be no stopping me! lol.

Pliny In Canberra

Being no stranger to the world of politics and civic debate, Pliny - with me in tow - was recently fascinated to visit the national Australian parliament in Canberra.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be on holiday when we called.

This was perhaps just as well; some of Pliny's rhetorical formal speeches don't half ramble on.

In Search of Scottish Oatcakes

Even the most casual traveller to Australia, could not fail to notice the liberal application of Scottish place names that punctuate the maps of this vast country. Towns, cities, rivers, roads and forests all echo familiar and emotive Scottish names. Names that were brought by early Scots explorers and pioneers; set down in romantic homage to the old country that many must have known they would never see again.

Campbelltown, MacDonald, Scone, Aberdeen, Hamilton, Lithgow, Invergowrie, Glencoe, Apin, Lorn, Melrose, Dysart, Bannockburn, Argyle, Dundas, Esk and Stirling, are just a few of the many names that remind one of home.

So with such a deep Scots connection, you might think it would be easy to get hold of that most fundamental of Scottish savoury cuisine, the humble Oat Cake?

And yet, its really not that easy, let me tell you!

[The Elusive Scottish Oatcake]

-------------------------

I have now searched for oatcakes in three Ausie states and with very mixed success. Most of the big supermarkets do not have them and only the occasional health food, or import store, even knows about them.

I have spent much time explaining what oatcakes are to bemused and uncomprehending store assistants. I quickly learned that the term 'cake' confused them immensely and invariably directed me down the 'sweets and deserts' aisle of any store. The realisation that it was most effective to describe my desire as, "a sort of savory oat biscuit", helped somewhat, but did not improve my ultimate success.

I do not believe that Queensland knows the simple pleasure of the oatcake at all. Similarly Victoria is not overly familiar, though I did find them in one city centre store. New South Wales was perhaps the most 'oat friendly' state, but only in Sydney and they were not easy to find. Yet they could be found - usually occupying some obscure corner of the special import sections - surrounded by fancy European pastas.

When I did find them, my happiness was unbounded. However, they were expensive and I was forced by their very scarcity to buy in what may have appeared as suspicious bulk.

[Ahh, the promised land at last!]

Ok, so searching for oatcakes may have become something of a sad obsession, but as everyone knows, a good Scotsman needs his oatcakes at least two or three times a week to maintain a happy disposition. What else can one do?

The Melbourne Identity

I was recently lucky enough to visit the wonderful city of Melbourne, Victoria.

[Street View past Town Hall to St. Paul's Cathedral]

Melbourne is a major metropolis and any visitor to the central district can be in no doubt as to it's modern commercial credentials. Major office towers dominate the central skyline. Yet it also offers so much more.

[Central Melbourne on the Yarra River]

Glass and steel are interspersed within a city that has retained much of its historical and largely Victorian heritage. The combining of old and new architecture can be dramatic, but for the most part it provides for a fascinating and unique environment. No greater example can be seen than in the great Coops Shot tower - built 1890 - around which a vast and hyper-modern arcade has been built, right in the centre of town.

[The Coops 'Shot' Tower - Encased in Steel and Glass]

Indeed, Victorian and Edwardian buildings punctuate the city in great numbers, lending a sense of depth and history; a dimension that is not always present in some of Australia's other urban centres.

[Flinders Street Train Station - Central Melbourne]

Straddling both banks of the lazy Yarra river, an abundance of mature trees, formal parks and lakes also surround Melbourne's central district and provide for a further sense of heritage, class and calm.

[Street Sculpture]

A fantastic tram network - utilising modern and antique trams - provides easy and stylish transport around city. The sound of steel on steel and the ringing of cheery stop-bells, adds intrinsically to the wider noises of the city.

[One of Many Working Antique Trams - c.1930's]

Just out form the commercial centre, lies a diverse array of quirky districts such as the very laid-back Carlton with its famous Lygon Street; boasting more Italian trattorias and cafes than I have seen anywhere - even in Italy itself!

Nearby is Fitzroy, with its cool and very grungy mix of eclectic and alternative fashion shops. The names and styles of these crumbling Edwardian fronted businesses has to be seen to be believed. A walk down the districts famous Smith Street is an exciting experience for the senses.

[A Great Name for a Shop - Fitzroy]

But perhaps my favourite suburb, was the distinctive seaside district of St Kilda; very much reminding me of a close alternative to my own Portobello in Edinburgh.

[Typical St Kilda Architecture]

With extended promenade and beach, St Kilda's grand yet shabby buildings and distinctive local 'characters', really reminded me of my own home.

[St Kilda - Pier House]

All in all, Melbourne was a great city to visit and one that I hope to visit again in the future. The Emperor was pleased with his visit.

Passing of a Much Loved Hound

142. "Many of our domesticated animals are worth learning about, and the most faithful to man, bar none, is the dog ... ."

146. "Only dogs know their master and recognise a stranger if he arrives unexpectedly. They alone recognise their own names and the voice of members of the family. Dogs remember the way to places, however far away, and no animal has a better memory, except man."

147. "... Every day of our lives we find very many other qualities in dogs ... but the acuteness of their senses is particularly remarkable. A dog explores and follows tracks, dragging the handler who accompanies it by the lead. ... [H]ow silent and secret, but how significant, an indication its tail gives, then its muzzle. So, even when they are worn out by old age and blind and weak, men carry their dogs in their arms, waiting for winds and scents and pointing their muzzles towards [them]."

[Pliny The Elder, Natural History, Book VIII]

In memory of TARA [1997 - 2009]

Much loved family hound. Of mongrel birth, but infinitely noble spirit. An unconditional friend and a true companion. To be sadly missed, but fondly remembered for the great love and fun that she brought.

[A dog that loved to run]

Travels in the Blue Mountians

Pliny and I recently took a little jaunt into the most spectacular Blue Mountains, East of Sydney.

Its always nice to get out of the city for a while and take the country air. High mountains, lush semi-tropical forests, waterfalls and rivers all form the landscape here.

I think the trip did us both the world of good. The landscape up here is so dramatic and local towns like Katoomba are very chilled.

Its no surprise that rich Sydneysiders keep weekend properties up here. I think Pliny himself would be tempted, were it not for the other villas and estates that he already keeps in Latium.

The Big Shoe

My Granny Campbell used to say that big feet were to be celebrated as they "... gave you a good firm grip of Scotland!"

But I was recently amazed to see this massive boot at a shoe shop in the centre of Melbourne!

In light of this, it is not so hard to see why the Ausies have such a strong physical reputation in sport. Perhaps Ausies really are an immense race of physical super-men and women.

Or perhaps it is exactly this kind of miss-interpretation that explains how ancient writers developed such fantastical ethnographic observations of extremely distant and untraveled lands:

23 "Megasthenes records that on Mount Nulus [India] there are men with their feet reversed and with eight toes on each foot. On many mountains there are men with dogs' heads who are covered in wild beast's skins; they bark instead of speaking and live by hunting and fowling, for which they use their nails. Ctesias writes ... of a tribe of men called the Monocoli who have only one leg and hop with amazing speed. These people are also called the umbrella footed, because when the weather is hot they lie on their backs stretched out on the ground and protect themselves by the shade of their feet. The Monocoli are not far from the cave dwellers, and further to the east of these are some people without necks and with eyes in their shoulders.

[Pliny The Elder, Natural History, Book XXIII]

In light of this, the big shoe might not be so weird after all.

Pliny on the Shape of the Earth

I recently had cause to consult with that most learned Roman writer, thinker and natural scientist, Pliny the Elder.

The uncle of my current travel mate, Pliny the Younger; Pliny Senior offers a wealth of scientific, botanical, zoological and ethnographic information from the ancient world. His comments concerning the shape of the earth have recently interested me:

160."The shape of the earth is the first fact about which there is general agreement. At any rate we call the earth a sphere and admit that it is included within poles. The form, however, is not that of a perfect sphere, for there are high mountains and widely spreading plains ... But the continuous revolution of the universe around the earth forces her huge globe into the shape of a sphere."

161. "There is a great conflict between the learned and the man in the street at this juncture. Scholars assert that men are spread out all round the earth and stand with their feet pointing towards each other and that the top of the sky is alike for all of them and that their feet point down towards the centre of the earth from wherever they are. An ordinary person, however, enquires why men on the opposite side do not fall off - as if there is not an equally good reason for them wondering why we do not fall off."

[Pliny The Elder, Natural History, Book II]

All I can say on this - writing as I am from Down Under - I don't know how it works, it just does!

Looking for the Signs

[Travel Agent: Mullumbimby]

Its true to say that my ancient forefathers were somewhat obsessed with the interpretation of signs and portents.

No war, expedition, building-work, or even trip to the shops might be undertaken unless the augurs had first been consulted and the portents interpreted in a suitably propitious manner. Just getting the imperial family off for a short holiday could be a lengthy, complex and at times, bloody business. The signs just had to be right!

Being an altogether more modern emperor, I do not really hold with past traditions in this respect; amongst other factors they were starting to get a bit suspicious of me at the local pet shop.

However, although the cultural and historical context may be very different, I still keep a watchful eye for the signs around me.

Indeed, although Australia may not have a great classical heritage, there is still just enough to make old Romans like Pliny and I feel at home. Below is just a small sample of some of the signs we have been noticing.

[Trendy Apartment block: Melbourne, CBD]

[I had no idea it went so far: Blue Mountains]

[Melbourne, CBD]

[Katoomba, Blue Mountains]

[Melbourne, St Kilda]

Of course in other respects, some of the signage we have seen in Australia has left Pliny and I altogether more confused.

[Ian Doyle: More than just a butcher! No wonder the dogs so excited.: Gunnedah]

[Surely it depends on how hard one tries?: Sydney, Epping]

[Well they did keep the sign up for a good length of time: Melbourne]

[A great wee Restaurant: Sydney, CBD]

I will keep my eyes open for more signs, but so far the gods seem to be favouring us on our travels.

The Adventures of Pliny and Me

I am not sure what the man himself would make of it, but its true to say that Pliny The Younger has been traveling faithfully with me in Australia for these past few weeks.

He's a stolid and moderate companion, but if you know how to read him, Pliny is full of re-assuring wisdom and at times is even pretty amusing.

The sun is fierce out here - even in winter - so I have had to insist that Pliny wears plenty of sun-cream.

Its just a bit embarrassing when Pliny insists on ordering fruity cocktails! Believe me, some of the backwater towns I've been in recently are definitely NOT cocktail towns!

[The picture above was taken in a bar that had proper saloon doors for goodness sake! We were lucky not to end up on the news!]

Still, I think Pliny has been enjoying himself - at least he's been getting out the house a bit.

Pliny on Loss

"Our friend Marcinus has had a terrible blow; he has lost his wife, ... Marcinus has indeed the great consolation of having possessed such a treasure for so long, though it is this that makes his loss so hard to bear; for our enjoyment of pleasure increases the pain of deprivation. So I shall continue to be anxious for him, for I love him dearly, until he can permit himself some distraction and allow his wound to heal; nothing can do this but acceptance of the inevitable, lapse of time, and surfeit of grief."

[Pliny The Younger; Letter to Rosianus Geminus]

The Perfect Coffee

The perfect coffee, served to me in Sydney harbour by a barrista that obviously had a real talent.


'It was a pleasant cafe, warm and clean and friendly and I hung up my old waterproof on the coatrack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a cafe au lait. The waiter brought it and I took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write.'

[Ernest Hemingway]

All Roads Lead to Roma

They have long said that "... all roads lead to Roma" and indeed that classical sentiment was of its time most definitely true.

However, what they certainly do NOT tell you, is that there is more than one Roma in this world and that the difference between these can be somewhat profound!

Take Roma, Australia for example; a gas and oil town, well within the rural flat scrub land of Queensland. Its certainly very different from the Eternal city that I was planning to see!

Roma may not have an abundance of classical culture, but it does have its own distinctive feel to it and there is no doubt that it also has a more than valid history of its own.

The local pubs are pretty scary and full of real no-nonsense working men who look like they live tough physical lives. I cannot say that anyone in Roma was mean to us exactly, but I cannot say that they were friendly either. At best they projected a kind cold disinterest or taciturn suspicion.

One of the few people who would speak to us was the local bar manager who was an outsider himself. It would almost be an understatement to describe him as a deeply unhappy man. He made it pretty clear that he hated the town and was literally counting the days until he could get out. We guessed that this situation had not been helped since the locals had badly smashed up his hotel bar the week before; apparently more the result of rough excitement rather than any intended malice.

Elements of Roma are pretty weird and it certainly seems to be the kind of town where everyone drives a Ute (pick-up), with dog tied to back being a compulsory accessory. I would also guess people own guns as many of the local road signs seemed to be liberally perforated with shotgun holes. However, we did not see any trouble at all.

We stayed in a really shabby drive-in motel where the landlady tried to rip us off on the room rate within the first 5 minutes. We ate at the recommended 'best' restaurant in town and the food was shockingly bad! I can pretty much guess what a Latanist snob such as a Cicero, Pliny or Tacitus would have made of the place, yet despite all this, I loved it!

[I love the local trees - they make me look so thin!]

It was a culture shock rolling up into this wee town out in the endlessly flat scrub land, but it was well worth it for the experience. The shape, colour, fauna and light of this landscape is pretty special and not at all what one would be used to from a European perspective.

You see some pretty obscure sights as you drive along for hours on endlessly flat straight roads in which you might only pass a handful of cars in a whole day of driving.

[So that's why I'm always waiting on the No. 42]

I'm still not exactly sure how I managed to get to the wrong Roma? I must have a wee word with the Imperial travel agent when I get back. I don't think my Imperial forefathers would have taken kindly to this kind of mix-up: Caligula and Nero would have gone mental!

Still, I will just need to take it in my stride and make the best of it from here on.