faroverthewater.

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  • Last hours in Istanbul

    The first proper sunset in ninety days of snow and grey and now a city which looked always to its past flamed with the passion of the present. Colour flashed everywhere: the Bosporus a bottle-green, the sky streaked with crimson and the severe Byzantine battlements tinted a surreal orange by an onslaught of natural light →

  • Morocco, in Brazil

    Unzipping the tent flaps the dune appeared closer and taller than when seen in daylight, like something threatening using darkness as cover for stealth. There was the silhouette of a tree. A few stars. I was in Brazil, the trees dripping with the morning’s downpour. But the words “remote desert” in a news article had →

  • 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 →