Pedro Paramo

Pedro Paramo

Up and downhill we went, but always descending. We had left the hot wind behind and were sinking into pure, airless heat. The stillness seemed to be waiting for something. “It’s hot here,” I said. “You might say. But this is nothing,” my companion replied. “Try to...
Arabian Sands

Arabian Sands

I arrived back in Salala on 16 October 1946. I planned to cross the Empty Quarter from Mughshin to the Trucial Coast, and to return to Salala across the gravel steppes at the back of Oman, but I realized that if a hint of my plans reached the Wali he would forbid the...
Homesick for Another World

Homesick for Another World

A Dark and Winding RoadAround nine o’clock, I pulled my sleeping bag out and unrolled it on the bed which was covered in old blankets and dust and mouse poop, and slept with no trouble at all. In the morning I guzzled a litre of mineral water and drove on the dark and...