“The meaning of life is that it stops.” — Franz Kafka
I’ve always felt most grateful to be alive when I walk among the dead. That might sound strange, but bear with me!
Step through a lychgate into a church yard or descend a narrow stone stair into a catacomb or ossuary, and the pace and the noise of the world falls away. In these quiet spaces—graveyards beside ancient churches, sprawling Victorian cemeteries, underground chambers decorated with bones—I consider the shortness of life, memento mori, remember you will die, and it puts life into perspective. I can hear my own heartbeat more clearly, and the stories begin to rise.
In this episode, I’ll take you with me to a handful of places that have shaped some of my stories and travel memoir. If you’ve read my ARKANE thrillers or the Brooke & Daniel series, you’ll recognise many of the names.
But whether you’re here for research, reverence, or simple curiosity, I hope you’ll find something to spark your imagination and, perhaps, shift your perspective on these places that so many stay away from.

* What’s the difference between a graveyard, a cemetery, and an ossuary?
* Why am I so fascinated with these places?
* Sedlec Ossuary, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic
* Paris Catacombs, France
* Kensal Green Cemetery, London, England
* Crossbones Graveyard, Southwark, London, England
* St Louis Cemetery No. 1, New Orleans, USA
* Capuchin Catacombs, Palermo, Sicily
* Archbishop’s cadaver tomb, Canterbury Cathedral, England
* Mass grave in the Dohány Street Synagogue, Budapest, Hungary
* Graveyard of St Mary and All Saints, Boxley, Kent


First, some definitions.
What’s the difference between a graveyard, a cemetery, and an ossuary?
A graveyard is usually a burial ground attached to a church, whereas a cemetery is a stand-alone burial area, for example, found near a crematorium, or a public burial ground.
An ossuary, from the Latin ‘ossos’ for bone, is a container or chamber specifically to hold bones. It can be as small as a box, or as large as a chapel. In Europe, there are many ossuaries where the bones are used as decoration.
Why am I so fascinated with these places?
The Latin phrase memento mori—remember, you will die—has never felt morbid to me. It makes me grateful that I am alive on this day, to have the life I do, to love the people I love, and to be able to write and create. Life is indeed short, and I want to make the most of it.
I find myself drawn to these places not out of some macabre fascination but because they strip away illusion. In a world obsessed with preserving youth and denying mortality, there is something profoundly honest about these places that honour death.
The dates etched in stone. The names that no one remembers anymore, even this of the wealthy who thought they were important in life. The weathered gravestones, some leaning or sunken so deep they’re practically swallowed by the ground. All these make visible the brief span of our lives. This clarity energises me. I’m 50 as I write this, definitely middle-aged. If I am lucky to have decades left, how will I spend them? What stories will I tell? What experiences will I have? What challenges will I face?
This relationship with death might be unusual in the modern west, but for most generations, and for many cultures even right now, it is a completely normal part of life. As Franz Kafka said,

“The meaning of life is that it stops.”

Perhaps it is our modern sensibility to avoid discussing death that is the more unusual. I hope to change that a little today, so come with me on a journey of the dead.
Sedlec Ossuary, Kutná Hora, Czech Republic
It was a freezing winters day back in 2015 when we took the train from Prague to visit the Sedlec Ossuary, also known as the Bone Church.