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  • It Is Too Early for Symbols

    I walk to the kitchen and the hissing kettle rises to a click and summons a clean, penetrating silence. It is a complete silence, very unusual in Tangier—so quiet  that I take special care not to clink spoon against cup as strong, English tea darkens.  It’s half past seven. I’m never up this early on… →

  • Laurenzo

    Laurenzo’s garden was a patch of Mediterranean perfection. The grape vines curled around the pillars, cats dozed on tables and in a wall a cross had been carved by a stonemason who pre-dated King Charles II. In this sun-dappled arcadia I was the only guest. The Albanian flag flapped on a growing breeze on the… →