My Journey with Andante: 30 Years of Discovery and Delights with Dr Eireann Marshall
I began working with Andante in 1996, after my friend and fellow ancient historian, Ray Laurence (now at the University of Sydney), recommended me to the founder of the company, Annabel Lawson. I was wet behind the ears and hadn’t the faintest idea of what the job entailed. Being the youngest of seven and desperately keen to be heard, I soon found that tours entailed speaking to groups of people who paid to listen to you. Once I got over the stage fright (does one ever get over the stage fright actually?) I realised I had a captive audience. Brilliant! At the time, I was a wide-eyed lecturer at the University of Exeter and finishing my PhD. I had envisioned a quiet life in Academia.
Andante changed everything. And I have never looked back. What I had imagined as a brief diversion transformed into a three decade long partnership and a defining part of my life. Across these three decades, Andante has taught me as much as I have hoped to have imparted to others.
Of course, across thirty years, I have seen extraordinary change. Sites, such as Pompeii, have evolved and flourished, with ongoing excavations and the development of a more thoughtfully designed approach to visiting. Countries, such as Tunisia, have come into their own as cultural destinations. Naturally, there have also been sadder changes. My PhD focused on Libyan women and identity and I once could travel to Libya regularly. Today, that is no longer possible.
Yet, in the face of such change, there has also been heart-warming continuity. I’ve developed friendships with long-standing colleagues, such as Tour Managers of old like Stasa Bailey, Martin Plimsol and Jennie Robson, and have forged newer ones with the younger generation, such as Anna Vigetti (Jennie’s daughter). I have also been fortunate to share a few laughs and joys with the remarkable office staff, Mary Reynolds and Kate Winter, without whom I would be nowhere. I’ve also been fortunate enough to have worked for decades with the same local guides (such as Daniela Mantice in Pompeii) and the same bus drivers, including the Arcaro family where I started with one generation and have now travelled with the third. These relationships rest quietly at the foundation of each successful tour.
Another beautiful continuity has been the travellers themselves. Over the years, I have met people who return again and again. We exchange ideas and keep in contact. Andante has provided me with the unique gift of discovering new places alongside thoughtful and curious minds.
Certain sites have left an indelible mark. Carthage, for example, stands out; a city that once dominated the western Mediterranean, was defeated by Rome, and then reinvented itself after conquest, flourishing with a population of over half a million. It was one of the first sites I visited with Andante. Each return only deepens my admiration. Sicily, too, has been a touchstone. Agrigento remains beautifully (gloriously) itself.
When I began working for Andante, I was a naïve postgrad, entangled in academic research. The questions I asked of the ancient world were sculpted by research and by texts, which demand certain types of enquiry, and limit us to the evidence that survives. On tour, however, the questions are beautifully quotidian: how did people wash their clothes? Did married couples share beds? Who washed the togas? My eyes were opened to a new way of looking at the ancient world. Through Andante, I developed a passion for sensory archaeology. Walking on tour, I try to imagine the sights, the sounds, and even the smells of these places that once were. In an amphitheatre, I don’t think of the gladiator. I think of the spectator, who sat there all day. Did his legs ache? Was his toga laundered since the last time he went to the amphitheatre.
Andante has also taken me to places I might never have otherwise gone to. I’ve travelled from Istria to Marrakech, I’ve been to Spain – I’ve even led a tour in Britain! I’ve also been granted such rare privileges, such as visiting St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice alone with a group at night and descending into the Mithraeum beneath the Circus Maximus to recreate scenes of sacrifice and conviviality which have long gone.
My journey with Andante has been thirty years of discovery and delights. It has changed my life. And I am grateful for every step of the journey.
