Tag: Travelling

August 30, 2015

According to Greco-Egyptian myth, when the brother of the Goddess Isis – who was also her husband – was murdered, the tears she wept resulted in the Nile River flooding every year. Now, over 2000 years later, it appears that Egypt is being haunted by a namesake of the Egyptian Goddess. This time, however, the acts of savagery haunting not only Egypt but the Arab world at large (plus more), is not resulting in an abundance in the same way Isis’ tears generated a torrent of water. Rather, the converse is materialising; it is resulting in scarcity, as parts of…

Read on...Walking in the Footsteps of ISIS

October 1, 2013

    Expectations tend to lead people astray. Utopia to one person is perdition to another; paradise lost may be deemed to be paradise gained. Equally, the grapevine is often thorny and any opinion, although usually taken at face-value, should be unbundled from the context in which it is given.     Returning from Southern Africa in August (and having time to reflect on the same) gave rise a series of difficult dichotomies. Race, class, nationality: they all matter, but to differing degrees to different people. The one nightmare which nobody can escape, however, is history.     For example,…

Read on...History Matters

July 25, 2008

What the next hour, or two, shall entail is daunting. Negligence is not an excuse, but a fact. Every day, if only for a matter of seconds, I contemplated updating this blog. But as the content increased, so did my apathy, for fear of how long it would take to complete. So, without further ado, let’s begin. At some point, the pollution cleared, the smog disappeared (visibly that is, as, even during the Olympics, it will still linger in the air) and sun began to twinkle. That is irrelevant however. I must not digress; I must persist in writing only…

Read on...BALZ-er

June 27, 2008

Innately, I have restrained myself from beginning this new travelling chapter with ‘So it Begins’. This is not beginning, but rather, continuing; whether from last summer or, indeed, my gap year, abandoning Manchester (again) feels more like a resumption of past endeavours than the generation of a new frontier. Thus, let me begin: And so it continues. [MEDIA=1]Click for audio enhancement. The film is rolling. And, like the third take of the same scene, little has changed. The night before I was due to depart, I had yet to pack. Why bother? I had only been home for two days…

Read on...Take Three