Desert Traditions
…where new journeys into life, tradition & culture begin

Snippets from the cutting edge of travel

Archive for 2012

Postcard from Ahmedabad
November 9, 2012
After a rock’n’roll overnight train trip from Bhuj I emerged into the early morning chorus of chaos as Ahmedabad rubbed its eyes and blinked awake into a new day. Taxi

Tickling the Senses
October 26, 2012
The idea of being in India is such a tease. The week before I leave she, the idea, repeats her customary monsoon mantra – rumbling, boiling and building up until

Awakening the Tiger
September 4, 2012
Some time, and who knows or really cares when ensnared in a metal-clad container moving at 760 kph through the night sky, I was roused from semi sleep by Captain

Finding Marigolds
August 20, 2012
My grandfather grew marigolds in amongst his vegetables to keep pests at bay; I pressed marigold petals into mud pies and used them to decorate sand-saucers for school gala days

Wisdom at my Feet
August 7, 2012
Whenever I arrive and depart from Mumbai I have a one stop ‘makeover’ at the Taj Hotel’s salon in Colaba. After passing the security check, a grim reminder of the

Pressure Rising
July 21, 2012
Mumbai sizzled on the edge of monsoon. The sea wall along the waterfront a solid line of the young and old, men, women and children sitting, watching, waiting and catching

Regrouping – the new journey begins
May 7, 2012
I can’t begin to recount where the past five weeks have gone since I walked in the door from India and began the real work. They certainly disappeared down the

Small Worlds
March 23, 2012
Surprising who you meet in unexpected places. Today I went shopping for fabric – of the kind worn by the shepherding communities of Kachchh – in particular the northern Banni/Pacham

Tourist not Terrorist
March 6, 2012
The last time I used this phrase was in 2002 when the Indian-Pakistan border was flaring again and Stealth bombers vied with the local crows for dominance of the bleached

The Colours of Life
February 1, 2012
Colours speak they shout they sing for themselves and for all who care to see.         Fifty thousand images in my iPhoto library and still counting, still