The ancient walled town of Silchester in Hampshire is visited by thousands of tourists each year. They come to walk in the footsteps of the Iron Age tribes that built the settlement and the Romans that moved them out to replace them. The visitors touch the ancient walls and try and feel a connection to the memories locked inside. The majority leave empty-handed. Their digital cameras have done all the remembering for them. Some do maintain that they have seen ‘things’ moving along the tracks in the twilight and the penumbra. But none are ever really believed, and their sightings are put down to a little over-indulgence on the barley wine. But on Pagan high-days and long forgotten holidays that don’t feature on any normal calendar, Silchester occasionally drops her defences and allows ‘the
