Stuff to do! My first task, after coffee of course, is to get myself to the spice market a mile to the northeast of my den on Gangaur Ghat. I prefer to walk at this time of day, though some … Read More »
Shame that. Typical prey for these guys (wiki claims forty types worldwide if we include shags, though at what point a local variant gets its own Latin name is a matter of hot contention for those who care about such things) … Read More »
Disinclined to write, I wandered the ghats and streets at the northern end of Lake Pichola. Later I’ll dedicate a post to the lake, so have focused here on faces, mostly human. This woman could be a model in the … Read More »
Taken in the right amount, as when a few days ago I bought a mild bhang lassi from Jaisalmer’s Government Shop, this stuff is more like a low to medium strength acid trip than getting stoned, though the finest grass … Read More »
A few pictures from the last few days – on the streets in Udaipur in the south of the state and Jaisalmer, way across the Thar Desert to the west and north, close to the border with Pakistan. It’s … Read More »
Eight am on Saturday: the street porters of Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk and Chawri are hard at it. Interstate trucks have driven through the night under loads they’d never get away with in the west: stacked to the sky, massive … Read More »
Is there a quintessentially English brand of humour? One we specialise in and can fairly be held to encapsulate, or at least betray something important about, our national psyche? It used to be said that our staple is saucy suggestion. It … Read More »
Today’s Independent has former Labour Minister of State for Europe, Chris Bryant, telling Parliament that: There is now clear evidence of Russian direct, corrupt involvement in elections in France, in Germany, in the United States of America and, I would … Read More »
It’s been a while since I posted on Greece. Today in CounterPunch I came across a dialogue between Sharmini Peries, co-founder of Real News, and Michael Hudson, Economics Professor at the University of Missouri. Hudson, you may recall, was extensively … Read More »
Early evening, July 1968. I was set to propel my fifteen year old frame out the door and ankle over to Colley Road library, on Sheffield’s Parson Cross, when my steelworker dad called out to me. He often had his … Read More »