This summer, I joined the excavation team at Motya, a small island off the coast of eastern Sicily near Marsala, as a digital archaeology specialist. I was responsible for helping to carry out the ongoing geophysical survey which aims to map the entire layout of the ancient city. Motya was a Phoenician/Punic foundation dating to the 8th century BCE with close ties to Carthage and constant contact with indigenous Italic cultures, creating diverse ethnic and cultural conditions. It is one of the rare examples of a Punic city which was largely not built over in later periods. The aim of the geophysical survey, which has almost mapped the entirety of the city over the last ten years, is to approach the question of cultural diversity and experience at Motya through examining its urban layout and architectural forms, which are distinct from that of native Italic cities on the island. In this report, I will describe what an average day of work at Motya looked like for me.

At 5:30am, I would drag myself out of bed. Ideally, we left for the island by 6am–sometimes it was a little later, but that could be made up for by a bit of careful speeding on the road, which was very scenic. The ride down to the dock where we would take a ferry to the island closely followed the coast, so even though we were only half-awake at best, we could still take in the gorgeous scenes of still water reflecting the dawn light. We would drive past the fishermen in their boats, the gulls and little birds diving into the water, and the famous salt flats of Marsala, each one delineated with careful lines of stones. Many of these salt flats are very old, even ancient. Marsala’s high-quality salt is famous, as is the sulphur scent which comes off the flats in the mornings and evenings. I came to associate it with waking up and looking forward to the start of the day.

The survey area I was focusing on this season was an olive grove to the northeast of the island. I walked the magnetometer between the rows of trees and occasionally ran straight into low-hanging branches. I walked into one hard enough once that it knocked me on my back. Such are the hazards of keeping your head down to make sure you’re stepping in time.

The data, once processed, made the many times I banged myself into a tree or two worth it. The magnetometry revealed major roads in line with those in other parts of the city, as well as some walls which suggest building foundations. Larger scholarly understanding of Punic urban architecture is actually fairly limited, so this kind of data makes a significant contribution to the subject. At the end of the day, I and my teammates would pack everything up: the ropes used to delineate where I would walk, the magnetometer going back in its case, my water bottle and sunscreen dropped unceremoniously in my bag. We would take the ferry back at 6pm, be back at our accommodations by 7pm, and then have a hearty, much looked-forward-to dinner. And then we’d do it all again tomorrow.