We rattle through the desert, not saying much, heading way out into the middle of nowhere, which in this fledgling country, is most places. We pass camels on the dusty landscape, and Bedouin eking out their existence in what have become permanent homes, made of corrugated iron and copious amounts of children and washing. Soon,… Continue reading The Man with the Music Boxes.
29th September 2013 There is a vast, dark church in the Old City, built mostly by crusaders, it's stone the same bleached blonde as the rocks, the dust, everything. You round a corner, and there is lies, tucked away from the world, hulking in it's ancient way, and still a sacred place for pilgrims. The… Continue reading The Immovable Ladder