There are cities I like, cities I admire and cities I would happily return to. And then there is Rome.

Rome has never occupied the same category for me.

I love it with the completely unreasonable attachment normally reserved for people, not places. I can criticise it, complain about it, point out everything that does not work and still become absurdly happy the moment I see a Roman street, an ochre wall, a pine tree or a piece of travertine in a photograph.

Part of that comes from the obvious thing: the history. But Rome is not fascinating because it has old buildings. Plenty of places have old buildings. Rome is fascinating because the past was never properly cleared away.

A princess is in the middle of her wedding ceremony when a dragon appears, picks her up and carries her away to a remote island.

You have to admit: that is a fairly efficient way to get my attention.

I went into I Am Dragon expecting something pretty but probably silly. Instead, I ended up genuinely loving it.

It is romantic, strange, visually beautiful and unapologetically fairy-tale. And sometimes I don't need a film to reinvent cinema. Sometimes I would simply like a dragon, an impossible island, beautiful clothes and two people I actually want to end up together.

Apparently that is not too much to ask.

One of the things I love most about ancient history is when it suddenly stops being about kings, wars and dates and becomes about somebody wanting something very badly.

A safe journey.

A healthy child.

A good harvest.

A victory.

Or perhaps simply the feeling that the gods had been kind and deserved a thank-you.

And so people left things behind.

Have you watched The Borgias?

If the answer is no, I am going to make the same recommendation I made years ago: please correct this immediately.

Jeremy Irons being magnificently Jeremy Irons as Rodrigo Borgia. François Arnaud stalking through Renaissance Italy as Cesare. Holliday Grainger somehow making Lucrezia look increasingly formidable while wearing enough silk, pearls and embroidered velvet to bankrupt a minor principality.

What more do you need?

The series ran for only three seasons, from 2011 to 2013, and I remain offended by this fact. It was lavish, melodramatic, murderous, occasionally ridiculous and extraordinarily beautiful. In other words, exactly the sort of television I am genetically programmed to enjoy.