Arabian Sands

Arabian Sands

From Abyssinia I was sent to Syria, where I served in Jabal al Druze and later worked for a year among the tribes. The deserts in which I had travelled had been blanks in time as well as space. They had no intelligible history, the nomads who inhabited them had no...
Quantum weirdness isn’t weird

Quantum weirdness isn’t weird

If we accept objects don’t exist… There is a chair in front of me. A nice red wooden chair with four legs, a seat to sit on, a rest to support the sitter’s back. Does this chair exist by itself? Of course it does: it exists regardless of me. But wait: we...
Congratulations, By The Way

Congratulations, By The Way

Down through the ages, a traditional form has evolved for this type of speech, which is: Some old fart, his best years behind him, who, over the course of his life, has made a series of dreadful mistakes (that would be me), gives heartfelt advice to a group of...
Brit(ish)

Brit(ish)

In the 1770s, a talented black man – born a slave, mid-Atlantic, on a ship – whose friends included the artist Thomas Gainsborough, the writer Samuel Johnson, and the Duke and Duchess of Montagu, set up a gro- cery store on King Charles Street. Ignatius Sancho’s...
Waterlog

Waterlog

I wanted to follow the rain on its meanderings about our land to rejoin the sea, to break out of the frustration of a lifetime doing lengths, of endlessly turning back on myself like a tiger pacing its cage. I began to dream of secret swimming holes and a journey of...