![]() ![]() Those pictures were brought back to life in my head by this terrific novel, a story which mixes those descriptions with steam-punky innovations and occult magic.* Since then, whenever I think of Cairo, in my head I create images of sun, sand, relentless heat and ancient history. I read historical accounts of the King and the uncovering of the tomb by Howard Carter and his team, which led me to details of the co-called “Curse” on Caernarvon and… well, you get the idea. I would look at the newspapers in the library, making notes, read books and even do what I guess would now be called a show and tell session at school, with a model of the tomb made out of plasticine and papier mache. ![]() It was the time of the Tutankhamun exhibition in London in 1972, and whilst I was too young and too poor to travel to see it – the queues were round the block, anyway – I would rabidly read anything I could get my hands on about the boy prince. Once upon a time I was an eight-year-old obsessed with Egyptology. ![]()
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