Most archaeology, he says, fails hopelessly to do so. We met at his home in Oxford, a Victorian terraced house with a strikingly opulent interior. Door panels carry Pompeian frescoes. Mantlepiece and shelves are a clutter of modern ceramics and glass, church candles, a copy of a Roman bust, a skull and antlers, dried flowers and fresh orchids. Antique prints hang on the walls.
Books are everywhere.
David Miles sits the other side of a marble coffee table. David Miles talks unstoppably. If he weren't so engaging you'd have to run for cover. He was the only kid in the street to pass the 11-plus, and excited local curiosity by reading books at rugby league matches instead of watching the game. He was glad to leave Yorkshire, at the age of 14, and rarely returns.