Simon loved maps. He loved finding the old Roman trackways and the Celtic camps. His imagination could people them with men and horses, crawling babies and dogs sniffing about the walls, when all I could see was a chalk-scarred hill dotted with dark juniper-bushes and ridged with strange bumps and circles. I would be conscious only of the cold wind up my legs while Simon stood with his head thrown back, muttering angrily: “My God, those were the days to be born in!”
Clearly, Simon thinks about the Roman Empire. Must have been a thing for ages now. 😃
