destination two: of turtles and cityscapes

Author's Note: I first started this post two weeks ago, when life was calm and books were plentiful. Now, after a protracted bout of burying my head in the sand and refusing to look at anything but my pillow, I've come back to it. Whatever train of thought I'd first had has jumped the track and gone over the cliff. There may have been mustache twirling, I'm not entirely certain. The point, however, is that where the post started and where it now ends are very different places.

By?

The iconic image of a world supported on the backs of four giant elephants, who stand atop an even larger turtle, who careens through space, reoccurs in a variety of mythologies, although not usually all at once. But this is the cosmological geography of Terry Pratchett's Discworld, where the Disc is carried through space by the Great A'Tuin. The elephants are, to the best of my knowledge, unnamed.

One of the challenges when setting out to explore an entire other world, be it Discworld or Middle Earth or post-apocalyptic Mars,  is finding a starting point. Diving into the literature, a well crafted tour will guide you where you want to go, without ever having to stop and gesture at the attractions. In this blog, however, a comprehensive guide to all things on the Disc is space prohibitive. So, in an entirely arbitrary decision based solely on my preference for cities, I'm starting with greatest city of them all: Ankh Morpork.

And by great, I mean, of course, polluted, corrupt, dangerous and, above all, filthy.

by Stephen Player

The twin cities of pestilent Ankh and proud Morpork are separated by the River Ankh and linked together by the bridge. It's a point of national pride that anyone is capable of walking across the water of the river, regardless of religious devotion. I would, however, strongly suggest only attempting this in very thick, very tall boots that you won't burning afterwards. You are infinitely more likely to suffocate than drown in the Ankh and if large sections of it haven't caught on fire yet, it's probably because no one in their right mind would get close enough to toss in a match.

As is true of all cities, there are grand spires announcing to the heavens and, more importantly, to everyone below, the great peaks of human ingenuity and engineering prowess. The Tower of Art, the tallest man-made structure on the Disc, is older than city and said to be even older than the Disc itself.

No, I have no idea how that works, either. But it sounds lovely, doesn't it?

In the shadow of the tower, the Unseen University and all the not-quite gleaming-but-getting-there progress of the city, there is the Shades. There's a bad side of every town, and the Shades might just be the mother of them all. If you visit, remember to buy insurance from the Thieves' Guild and try not to make eye contact with anyone.

The thing to recall most of all about Ankh Morpork, however, is that it's not fundamentally different from all those other cities in all those other worlds. Each place has it's own distinct flavor -- and I hope you've gotten a sense of Ankh Morpork's from this guide -- but they're all reflections of each other, too. Whether it's keeping up with the Jones' in cityscapes or the fact that every tourist brings a bit home of home with them... well, I'm not a very good guesser, so you'll have to decide. But the real magic of exploring a city like Ankh Morpork, or anywhere on the Disc, is seeing home through changed eyes.

From the Colour of Magic BBC production