Tourists are like dragonflies on an autumn afternoon. They hurry from attraction to attraction and monument to monument in search of beauty or history, hovering over gardens, harbours and mountains, footpaths and shopfronts. Sometimes they alight softly in a library, among books rising from wall to wall...
Tag: Cricket
The Siege of the Bog
It happened when I was eight or nine. What revived the memory this past month was the hurried confession of Matt Renshaw, a rookie Australian batsman to his captain, as he scrambled for the loo from the middle of a…
The Pentagon Down
The commander of the forces of associate provinces barged through the door of my tent two days before the clash of the legions. His chubby face was ashen with nothing less than volcanic fear; his fingers shook like peepal leaves…
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Known
As I hover metaphysically over Estádio Nacional de Brasília, along with the cameras that keep criss-crossing and snooping in the field, my daughter asks me a question in the middle of the simmering knockout fixture between La Albiceleste and Les…
One Grain Amongst the Storm 