It must have been in 1962 or thereabouts. I was working in Benghazi and was called to Tripoli to help when a P & O liner docked and disgorged a bus load of tourists who wanted to visit the remains of the notable Roman City known as Leptis Magna.

The great liner docked with smooth and skilful decorum. A young officer in crisp white uniform stood at the gangway as passengers disembarked and boarded a bus. I joined them. Our guide made himself known to us all and we were on our way. My job was easy. I was required to look English and engage passengers in enthusiastic conversation. A few words here and there about Tripolitania’s three Roman Cities, Sabratha, Oea and Leptis Magna and their Phoenician predecessors seemed to be appreciated.  Speculation about the Emperor Septimus Severus helped to enliven the journey.  He was born in Leptis Magna and was the first Roman Emperor not to have been born in Rome.He and his Syrian wife Julia Donma spent a great deal of money and time improving and expanding the city.  We spent an agreeable time amongst the ruins and at lunch in a local restaurant.

As I write this, I see the oak and ash wood which grows on the remains of the Roman Road from Londinium to Calleva Attrebatum where it meets the Portway, the Roman Road leading onwards to Bath. Now we call it the Devils Highway.  The Roman soldiers and civilians that passed where my dwelling now stands were on the main route from Roman London to the West of England. I can discern the characteristic Roman shape of the road and note that my granddaughter’s cat which died prematurely is buried thereon. I wonder if the Emperor Septimus Severus and his escort could have used the road when he was hereabouts between AD208 and 211. If so the noise of his chariot and his escort must have reached my ears, were I to have been alive then.

On the other side of the Devil’s Highway there is a new housing estate. It was built on what was known as Duke’s Meadow and changed the nature of our village. The duke in this case was the Duke of Wellington whoes gift it was from a grateful nation for his role in the defeat of Napoleon. Before the noise and mud the developers inflicted on us, they were required to appointed archaeologists to search for what we hoped would be the remains of a Roman villa and thus the end their plans. Diligent archaeologists crouched over their work and soon found the remains of a late Iron Age Round House. They carefully unearthed and kept the pots and tools that must have been familiar to the Round House dwellers as are our pots and pans and air fryers today. Amongst them were four loom weights made of fired clay, and they were large and heavy. I wanted one but did not ask the kindly archaeologists who would have been duty bound to refuse.  They are in the storeroom in a museum by now. They may lurk there unnoticed. Remains of Iron Age Round Houses are not enough to stop developers. You need those of a good-sized Roman Villa to do that.