The Emperor Has Left the Building. 

Yes thats right. Like an absent ruler of old, the Emperor has (for now) withdrawn from imperial duties and taken up a new life.  

Far from the pressures of court and the ever-heavy burden of rule, this Emperor now lives a different life, in lands far away.

If you seek him as a private citizen, you will find him at:  

Colins-Street.com

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.

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.

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.

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.

An Imperial Journey.

As was well appreciated by my imperial Roman forefathers, there are times when an emperor is compelled to travel from the centre of his administration to survey the extent of his domains and meet with his most loyal subjects in the provinces.

That fact was well understood by previous rulers such as Caligula, Claudius and Nero who all took formal jaunts to the provinces and even fringes of empire; travelling with their imperial retinues to meet the troops and letting the people see their divine ruler. Well, its only fair on the people.

With this in mind, I have made the decision to make such a journey back to where it all began to the spiritual and political home of my Latin ancestors. All roads lead to Roma as they say and I have phoned the imperial travel agent and booked my ticket - I'm traveling patrician class!

My retinue is small and my means are modest, but I look forward to re-visiting the historical foundations of my Roman heritage. The seven hills of Roma beckon ...