Walking farther and farther into the depths of the old city and its darkened streets my senses tried desperately to cling to something they understood. Anything. But as we lost our selves to a rambling stream of watchful faces, frenzied traffic of people, bikes, carts and cattle, I soon found myself rendered motionless. Resigned to the notion that whatever this was, whatever I saw or felt in this moment it could never be captured in a photograph. Nor could such image compare
“I had to take your father to hospital last night, I was so worried. They said he should stay in until he sees a consultant. When I went back to see him this morning he was sat up in bed like King Farouk on his Holiday. According to him there was nothing wrong, he didn’t know why they were keeping him in there. But you know what you're fathers like, he was high spirits winding everyone up as usual. He can’t behave see”. Pearl I can still see it now, almost thirty years later.