Sea story: East meets West in the desert (1982)

Dust. Great clouds of dust. It rises above the clumps of traffic like a column, to be blown sideways after it clears the walls of the homes lining the avenue that leads away from the Port. Then it falls into my face, my clothes, and my hair.

Sun. Blinding sunshine. Not as hot as the desert to which I was accustomed, but too bright not to wear sunglasses. Continue reading