Writers’ locations or does the earth move for you?

I stood on the rounded road stones, warmed by spring sunshine under a deep blue sky, and gazed up the road as it rose to the horizon. Red-tiled and grey stone shop fronts each side of the road. I steadied my breath, shut my eyes and heard the noises of nineteen hundred years ago.

This was Pompeii for me a week ago. Maybe I’m fanciful, but when I get to a location and I stand quietly, closing off the visual and aural senses, I try to draw on those other  hidden intuitive senses to feel the place I’m in. I imagine the crowds, the smells, the rattling carts, the cheeky kids, pickpockets, shopkeepers, the noise of humans shouting, pack-animals braying, dogs barking.

Then I can start writing…

More pictures of my Roman tour here.

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