GhostOfClayton

Hmm . . . and I'm feeling a little more ignorant each time I see one of these dmnable photos that I can't identify! To start the ball rolling, I'd say that it was east of a line between the Nile Delta and the Bosphorus.

RIP indeed. The only assistant I remember before her was called Jo, but Jo lives in that part of my memory which is in Black and White (along with Jon Pertwee). Sarah Jane was my first assistant after my life became 'In Colour'. As Melvadius says, funny and beautiful, (agelessly so). PS Dr Who (I think) returns to BBC1 this weekend. I await it with eager anticipation.

Small announcement: 'Spartacus: Blood and Sand' is now available to buy on Region 2 DVD. Thank you for your attention.

OK - I'll try a different tack, and see who's interested. In HBO Rome, Atia said to the young Gaius Octavian, "Mark Anthony buggars little boys like you for a morning snack." Obviously this is a fictional work, but there must have been plenty of very blokey, military types like Mark Anthony buggaring little boys like Gaius Octavian all over the Empire, and being seen as no less 'blokey' because of it.

Yikes - that was FAST! I thought I'd be first for certain. The instant e-mail notification came through, I looked at the photo, pressed F5, and you'd already got it. Well done, Bryaxis (assuming you're right, which you are!)

Good quotes, Kosmo, but I have to admit that your PS went R.O.M.E. (Right Over My 'Ead). Please explain.

Agreed. Just because they're going fast, doesn't make them exciting. That aeroplane you can see high in the stratosphere seems to be crawling across the sky, but it's travelling several times the speed of the F1 motor car.

Stephen Fry has just a hint of a mocking tone when he talks about Pliny the Elder, and yet had Mr Fry been around at the time, he would have been just like him.

Your time will come, Iolo. I'm hoping that Viggen or one of the other knowlegable types will jump in and tell us how many posts you need under your belt before you can create one.

I really need to know more about this robot . . . and exactly what the Family Guy ball says. I presume it isn't 'giggity, giggity'.

They are actually quite endearing. You can't help but like them, even though they're such scallywags!

Interesting stuff, Melvadius. Every day's a school day!

For those who are interested (and i most certainly am), the whole Falco series is now available on the Amazon Kindle Store. I'd like to think this had something to do with the fact that I registered my desire to have them on there, but somehow I doubt it. Nothing on the Apple bookstore yet, though.

It's a long shot, but I'm sort of reminded of Cyprus.

QI must be one of (if not the) funniest and most intelligent programmes to hit our screens! Which it does pretty freqently if you ever watch Dave.

Here, Here. . . . or is it "Hear, hear"? Why have I never wondered about that before?

Here's wishing the Queen the best of health . . . and not just because we'll get yet another additional Bank Holiday next year, (to celebrate her Golden Jubilee). Two additional Bank Holidays in two years. Mr Cameron must be grinding his teeth!

Am I not right in thinking that the denizens of the Holy Roman Empire also referred to their bit of the world as 'The Roman Empire' up until a decree following the 1512 Diet of Cologne. (After that, it was officially 'Imperium Romanum Sacrum Nationis Germanic

. . . and has the human race's temperament really changed that much since Roman times?

Another key question, and one which may add clarity or muddy the waters, is 'Why did the Romans withdraw back to Hadrian's Wall from the Antonine Wall, having established it?' Having got the thing built and manned, was the upkeep really so much more expensive? The new land gained included plenty of nice agricultural lowland, very unlike the inhosptable highlands further north. Would the locals in the 'new' province be so different from the Brigantes, in whose territory Hadrian's Wall was built?

Nope . . . it's still not coming to me.

I'll tell you what, if you start a page on Wikipedia called 'List of Roman Cities', and put in as many as you know (especially some variations), it would get populated pretty quickly.

I'd be really interested to know more about similarities between Roman and modern surgical tools and techniques. Do let us know if you find more interesting information, Noricum.

Back in the UK now. After a long and tiring day on Saturday spent on the French TGV, the EuroStar, and then the East Coast Main Line, I had one day's rest . . . which I spent doing laundry, shopping, ironing, cutting the grass, etc., etc. On Monday I found that I had agreed to do some voluntary work for one of the RSPB reserves that line the Humber Estuary. An interesting day. The reserve own a flock of Hebridean sheep which require regular maintenance, and today was the day they needed their feet seeing to. Sheep, you see, get foot rot. This is caused by a nasty, but quite wimpy bacterium, which dies on exposure to air. So a little (painless) trimming of the leathery covering of their feet, followed by an antibiotic spray, usually cures the problem within a few days (though sometimes the treatment needs to be repeated if they're still limping). So, the plan was as follows: I 'tip' the sheep - an operation that positions it on its bum with its feet sticking straight out - and the RSPB lady (Karen) trims and sprays the feet, and marks its head with a spot of blue paint. The problem is that, upon arrival, all the sheep are milling about in a field, free to run away when approached by, say, a big, ugly hiking guide. However, the reserve also own a nifty sheepdog, and with a few whistles and "come by"s from Karen, the sheep were soon penned in together in a milling and uncountable mass. To state an obvious truth: It's very hard to spot a limping sheep in a milling and uncountable mass. To state another obvious truth: Having spotted a limping sheep, it's very hard to keep track of it in a milling and uncountable mass. Imagine trying to keep track of one bee in a swarm! There is no easy tip or trick to counter these obstacles. You just have to dive in and grab the thing by the handles (or 'horns', as they're known when you're not trying to grab them.) So, now I have hold of my ovine victim by the 'handles', I need to 'tip' it. "The one thing you must remember," says Karen, "is that YOU are stronger than the sheep." OK. Seems another pretty obvious truth, thinks I. Not as obvious as you might think. A sheep is pretty much a ball of muscle with a very wilful temperament. Not at all as I was expecting. They never stop struggling for a second, and they are a LOT stronger than they look. In order to 'tip' the damn things, they need to be lifted sufficiently far off the ground so that their back legs can't make contact with it, and then turned over. This needs to be in mid air, because any slightest purchase their back legs get on mother Earth is going to cause you trouble. But eventually, I got baa-baa-black-sheep (or the 'big old whether' as Karen called it) on its bum, with its horns pressing painfully into my legs, holding onto one horn, and keeping it down with my other hand on its chest. . . and it does not stop struggling for a second. To do this single handed and shear the thing must be very hard, and to keep that up one sheep after the other all day. I have massive respect for sheep shearers. Anyway, Karen now expertly trims the feet, sprays the various cans of spray, and I can let it go. Now to repeat the process with the next one . . . and the next . . . and so on. It occurs to me why Karen felt the need to point out that I am stronger than a sheep. I was stronger than the first one, and the second, and the third, but by the time I had half a dozen under my belt, doubts were starting to set in, I can tell you! Still � all in all a very enjoyable and rewarding day out.

Great clip!