Funny the things your mind begins to miss on a cold, damp, grey drizzly day during lockdown. My mind has turned to memories of the various deserts I have visited down the years. And the little towns with their amazing markets.

How come they can grow such amazing vegetables in the middle of warter-less deserts when I am struggling to grow a single radish here?

Must be something to do with the cold and the dark grey skies today.

Anyway, I am not going to write much today because I’ve been busy editing my old novel, The Last Broomsquire, which I hope to release on the internet soon as the hard copies have apparently sold out. So here are some more photos from various visits to deserts down the years, if you’ve feeling cold, grey and drizzled upon…

And now just a few curious shots from hot deserts down the years, like abandoned American tanks, beautiful hand-woven rugs hanging on a wall in a forgotten Sarah village, and a man in an unr. WTF was he doing in that urn? I just can’t remember all these years later. Oh, and me on a camel…