Huge excitement last week, as archaeologists announced the discovery in Southwark of the best preserved Roman mausoleum ever found in Britain. I heard the news on the radio while driving with a friend, and both of us – living as we do south of the river – cheered. Shortly afterwards, I was invited on to the World Service to talk about Roman London. No sooner had the presenter introduced me than he was demanding to know about the mausoleum. I felt a lurch of horror. I realised I knew nothing, absolutely nothing about the mausoleum beyond what I had heard on the radio. ‘What did it look like?’ the presenter pressed. What to say? That it was big? Small? Mausoleum-y? In the event, I decided that honesty was the best policy. I put my hands up. I confessed my ignorance. It is almost always the cover-up, after all, rather than the event that causes trouble.
The Romans are much on my mind.
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