"It all started with a plane crash in the Himalayas," she says when I ask how she got started. "At first I was sure I would die. I was the only survivor, it was freezing, and I had no idea how to survive. But I managed to pull myself together. It took me two weeks, and I was almost dead by the time I staggered into a small village."

"I actually don't remember all that much," she says. "I was suffering from exhaustion, not to mention emotional stress - it was the most traumatic experience I've ever known. I lost a lot of my friends in that crash. But since then I've been determined to look after myself. You see, I was so used to a life of pampering and luxury that I never knew anything different. Two weeks fending for myself really opened my eyes, and I realized that even though the circumstances were traumatic, I never felt so alive. I became determined to see the world and stand on my own two feet."

The life of an explorer is a lonely one, Lara tells me. There aren't any bars where Indiana Jones-wannabes hang out, swapping stories of snakes, rolling boulders, and Nazi henchman. "Most adventurers I meet are out to get me," she explains, "so there's no chance of having a chat with them about combat or survival techniques."

Which isn't so important when you live somewhere civilized. But Lara doesn't really visit those places. "I've actually never visited either city," she admits when I mention New York and Los Angeles. "I don't think there's much worth pursuing in either place at the moment. Most of the relics I search for tend to be in wild locations.

"How many unexplored places are there anymore?" I ask. "A lot more than I ever imagined," she responds. "The world's still full of places that are unexplored. Hopefully I'll be the first to get to them - unless Starbucks beats me to it."

Lara Croft is the kind of woman who has to do things her own way, even if it gets other people killed.

I notice that there is not one picture in her house of a guy with his arms around her shoulders, kissing her, or holding her hand. Then again, it's hard to trust men when so many have tried to kill you. Even so, I asked what a guy would have to do to get her attention.

"Well, he'd have to know how to handle his weapon," she laughed. "Seriously, though, I really don't have much time for men at the moment - though part of me might enjoy a little romance from time to time.

"The thing is, any guy who wanted to go out with me really wouldn't see that much of me. There's no room for passengers on my trips and as soon as I've finished one adventure, it's usually straight into the next."

"I do like children," she replied, "but it would hardly be practical at the moment. Maybe one day...."

Lara grabs a bottle of Evian, walks over to where I'm sitting, and stands over me like she's probably stood over a lot of inert bodies. But instead of bleeding a lot, I crack a joke about how she's always wearing the same aqua-green top and khaki shorts. "I have four new outfits for Tomb Raider III," she declares, playfully kicking my feet. "I even got a long-sleeved thermal jacket for the Antarctic."

Sensing she's in a playful mood, I continue to rib her, asking what she does with the artifacts she finds, since Indiana Jones always gave his to museums and doesn't she think she should do the same after all?

"I have my own private collection,' she tells me, "which will be auctioned for charity when I die. I'm afraid I couldn't possibly part with any of my trophies at the moment, though."

I also mention that, at least during the game, she's been known to search a huge tomb for a single key when she could just as easily kick in the door or shoot out the lock.

"But then the game would be over way too quickly," she says rather matter-of-factly. "There have been times in real life when I've done that, but in a game, where's the fun in that? "

"Well, where's the fun in killing poor, defenseless animals?" I jokingly shoot back, to which she replies, "I only kill in self-defense. It gives me no pleasure to kill an animal, though when face-to-face with a savage and hungry beast, there's little else I can do. But the fur trade is cruel and unnecessary - I don't own any myself."

I finally ask the one question that I know every game-boy wants to know "So..." I say, motioning toward her chest, "are they real?"

Unfortunately, Lara doesn't react well.

"You know I'm 100 percent silicone," she snaps, throwing the Evian bottle to the ground, "so why do they have this fascination with my chest? I'm really sick and tired of people going on about it. I can't help the way I was made! "

Lara picks up her bottle and storms off, so mad that she probably would've shot me were this not a place where such things are frowned upon. And I would've deserved it. I had hurt her feelings, crossed a line I shouldn't have crossed.

No one who's met Lara would be surprised that boob questions don't fly. This is a woman who's had amazing adventures, cheated death more times than most of us have cheated at cards, faced dragons, tigers, and bears, oh my, and yet all anyone ever wants to talk about are her boobs.

Which is probably why details of her sex life are off-limits, almost as if people are overseeing her image.

I got back to asking her questions when I finally found her, two hours later, curled up in a chair in her library. (And after I'd apologized profusely and promised to build many temples in her honor.)

I asked her which was her favourite adventure.

"It would be Tomb Raider:3, it was more unusual than the others," she says of that outing. "The artifacts I was looking for were really quite strange. I went to Nevada, the South Pacific, Antarctica, and India in search of them."

It also gave her a chance to visit friends in London, though not for long. "Things in London got tricky," she explains, "so I had to resort to going out only at night - and then I had to stick to the rooftops and sewers."

"I believe Paramount are making a movie of your life". As flattering as these things might be, Lara isn't really phased by the attention. "Paramount and Eidos [the makers of the game] have looked after me very well so far," she says, "so I'm happy to let them handle it. Besides which, Hollywood really isn't my style."

She pauses for a moment, she looks like a hurt little girl. "My parents don't understand my passion for adventure," she finally mutters. "I remember my childhood days with happiness, but at the age of 16 I was sent away to school to be 'groomed' for the life of an aristocrat.

"Unfortunately, I don't have much contact with my parents now."

This makes me wonder if her death defiance isn't just her way of getting her parents' attention. "I go on my adventures," she says, "because they're my one true passion. Sure, nothing last forever, but whatever happens, I'll be happy so long as I'm on an adventure!"