ORIENTAL CULTURE, OF which Morocco is certainly a part, has at its root a belief in selflessness. It’s a subject rarely spoken of in the West, and even less frequently understood. To be selfless, you...
Once in a very long time you come across a book that is far, far more than the ink, the glue and the paper, a book that seeps into your blood.
One senses that, in these conditions, no amount of wet-wiping could bring true hygiene.
Only a man who has his health, a full stomach and wears clean clothes would ever entertain the notion of tracking down the greatest lost city on Earth.
Prideep pointed to the flames of paraffin lamps as they came alive in the distance and cackled in awe at the experience. (…) I was to discover that making tasty soup with one carrot, ten peas and a li...
Real terror is a crippling experience. You sweat so much that your skin goes all wrinkly like when you've been in the bath all afternoon. And then the scent of your sweat changes. It smells like cat p...
Real travel is not about the highlights with which you dazzle your friends once you're home. It's about the loneliness, the solitude, the evenings spent by yourself, pining to be somewhere else. Those...
Usually, there is nothing more pleasing that returning to a place where you have endured hardship.
To be selfless, you would give charity anonymously, walj softly on the earth, and look out for others-even total strangers-before you look out for yourself. For the Arab mind, the self is an obstacle,...
Settling into a new country is like getting used to a new pair of shoes. At first they pinch a little, but you like the way they look, so you carry on. The longer you have them, the more comfortable t...
Stories are a communal currency of humanity.
Stories are not like the real world; they aren't held back by what we know is false or true. What's important is how a story makes you feel inside.
That Morocco is not just another Arab country. It’s a crossroads – between Africa and Europe, and between Arabia and what lies west, beyond the Atlantic. But...’ Ghita said, her voice touched with an...
The ancient paused for a moment, as if his strength were failing. Yet I sensed that there was more to tell. Looking deep into my eyes, he whispered: 'The Gond kingdoms have fallen, their people live d...
The backstreet cafe in Casablanca was for me a place of mystery, a place with a soul, a place with danger. There was a sense that the safety nets had been cut away, that each citizen walked upon the h...
The idea of my heart dancing with delight was far too good to pass up.
The last thing we wanted was for the Machiguenga to be sad again. Sadness appeared to bring out their violence.
The only thing they valued higher than ammunition were Man United footballs.
The porters could always be coaxed to continue a little further through driving rain by the mere suggestion of a Pot Noodle at the end.
The pursuit of illusion is not about studying for prizes, or for study's sake. There's no right or wrong, no pass or fail.
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