Author Archives: Mark Rossiter

Blue Homepage

Yesterday was the final day of the F/28 month of photography in Chiang Mai, so I spent a few hours running around trying to catch what I hadn’t already before it all came down. Highlights: colour images by Shin Jeseop … Continue reading

Posted in bleakdom: don't blink, sound and vision, Thai time | Tagged | 1 Comment

no more next day

Seven weeks now since they took Bowie’s passport and shoes, and with them a fair number of, umm, older people’s youthful sedatives too (boo! death comes to everyone. boo-hoo…) In return: a scary and intriguing answer to a question that probably … Continue reading

Posted in older, sound and vision | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

a crash course for the ravers

“So who was this dude”, ask my kids, “and why are all the middle-ageds so upset?” Why did the principal of my daughter’s school (born somewhere dahn sarf, 1962) approach me in the playground at pick-up time, to commiserate and reminisce? … Continue reading

Posted in daddymummybabyblog, England, someone's England, older, sound and vision | Tagged , | 2 Comments

in-flight fundamentalist

I board the Qatar flight from Luxor to Doha, on my way back to Dubai. I am in the aisle seat; next to me, a black man in a hat. The plane takes off, reaches cruising altitude; the flight attendants … Continue reading

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Luxor Temple

Luxor Temple sits in the middle of the town of Luxor. When you are inside of it looking out, through the pillars of the colonnades and hypostyle halls you can see the crappy apartment blocks of the city. There used … Continue reading

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the road to Luxor

My driver smokes in the car, plays Quranic chants, and slags off the Muslim Brotherhood. His brief history of modern Egypt, in basic English: Gamal Abdel Nasser not good, Anwar Sadat not good, Hosni Mubarak good. With Mubarak not Muslims … Continue reading

Posted in misery for the many, freedom for the few, road | Tagged | Leave a comment

the monument that moved

Out of Luxor airport: bougainvillea erupting, vegetation waving, lush crooked palm trees growing by giant irrigation ditches. Rough roads, studded with speed bumps and military checkpoints every few kilometres; a land locked down tight.  My driver chortles and guffaws at … Continue reading

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