The Diaries of Wendy Wensum Episode 15 History Revisited

A train journey from Norwich to Gatwick, followed by a flight to Greece and a short ferry ride from Kavala conveyed us to the beautiful island of Thassos. Nestling at the northern end of the Aegean Sea, it was once famous for its gold mines; today honey and walnut jam are the island’s main claim to fame along with its green mountains and picturesque bays. We explored the island, sampling its foods and wines in its many and varied tavernas and restaurants.

Towards the end of our stay, Spouse and I caught the morning ferry from Thassos Town back to the mainland, and took a service bus to the ancient city of Philippi. The first impression was its vastness, the site deserted except for a handful of tourists. Around us on that bright summer day, the remains of the white stone buildings sparkled, their walls and columns silhouetted against a perfect blue sky. We walked the excavated streets, admiring the temples, exploring the forum and wandered through the prison abandoned so many centuries ago. Here we rested in the shade of its ruined buildings. As we enjoyed our picnic lunch with a bottle of local wine, I pondered again on events in those distant times when Philippi was a flourishing city, its inhabitants thronging its bustling alleyways with the energy of everyday life.

‘I knew this would happen, Paul,’ said Silas. ‘You’ve really done it this time. We will never get out of here now. You should never have made that speech at the forum. It was too inflammatory, too provocative and too anti-feminist. The people are not ready. You must be more PC.’ ‘Faith, Silas,’ Paul replied, ‘all is not lost. We have friends in high places. We may be banged up here in jail for a few days, but all will be well.’ ‘That may be so,’ said Silas, ‘but I’m bored already.’ ‘No problem,’ responded Paul confidently. In next to no time Paul had arranged a team match over XXIV boards against the Roman prison guards. Paul and Silas teamed up with two other inmates also awaiting trial.

On the first XII deals, there were no big swings; at the half way mark, Paul’s team was leading by VIII IMPs largely due to their superior bidding system. The guards were still using the Old Roman system. This had XL points in the pack, which required XIII points to open and, with a good trump fit, counted I, III and V for doubletons, singletons and voids. The players rarely bid slams unless there was an abacus handy. Late in the second half the following deal appeared.

The bidding was reasonably straightforward with South as dealer:

With only two major-suit losers, Paul brought in the contract without difficulty. At the other table, with only XII points, Prison Guard South decided not to open; the auction there went:

Although the prison guards took their two tricks in the minors, the contract rolled in with an overtrick. This gave a useful double-game swing to Paul’s team, who seemed to be heading for a decisive victory.

Abruptly, the contest ended. At the very moment of triumph, an earthquake hit the town throwing open the doors of the prison. In the subsequent confusion, the guards fled, allowing Paul and Silas to continue their travels. Nobody ever confirmed the match score…

I woke up suddenly. Spouse was gently shaking my arm. ‘Wakey, wakey,’ he was saying, ‘you have had your siesta.’ Arriving back in Thassos Town, the evening was pleasantly warm. From the ancient Agora, we strolled up the hill to the partly restored amphitheatre and followed a path along the old city walls to the Acropolis and Temple dedicated to Athena at the summit. From there we looked over the harbour and watched the orange sunset reflected in the calm water of the Mediterranean. Spouse put his arm round my shoulders. ‘Ouzo time?’ He inquired, half question, half confirmation anticipating my own thoughts. Slowly we meandered back to our favourite taverna in the town square.