Last summer, we visited Southern France and stopped off for a few days in the beautiful medieval city of Carcassonne. Fate brought me and Carcassonne together. Several years ago, while visiting family in the UK we found ourselves with babysitters for a couple of hours one evening so we visited a nearby pub. The establishment in question had shelves of second hand books for drinkers to read and Mr Postcard perused the books as we waited for our drinks.
He was right. I felt a bit disappointed when the time came to leave and go home, reluctantly I replaced the book on the shelf and made a mental note to hunt down my own copy. Fortuitously, as we walked through the airport to catch our flight back to Gibraltar, I spotted a brand spanking new copy of the book in a shop and had just enough time to buy it before catching our plane.
The book was Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. I loved it, both the characters and the setting of Carcassonne. It sounded like such a magical, special place. For the first time ever, I felt compelled to visit a place I had read about.
I had no idea when that would happen, just that I really wanted to go there. I even got the members of the book club I belong to to read Labyrinth I had to spread the love.
Then, in , I had the good fortune to be able to see a talk with the author, Kate Mosse, when she came to the Gibraltar Literary Festival. I rushed back later with said child in tow in the hope that I would be able to get my book signed. As we arrived at the front door of the hall where Kate had been speaking, there she was, about to leave, alongside another literary heroine of mine, Joanne Harris. Totally star struck, and full of apologies for detaining her further I asked if she would mind signing my book.
