Two farmers in the desert.

I once owned a camel. A beautiful dromedary camel called Alfie. I rode him from his home in Palmyra (Todmor in Arabic) to Damascus.

After a couple of weeks I met these two young shepherds with their flock in the desert.
I made them tea on my gas burner, and as dusk drew nearer we walked to their farm, past a few hills in a nearby valley.
The walk made me smile because it was something reminiscent of the tale of Noah and his ark. Three men, a camel, a donkey, a flock of sheep, a couple of goats, all followed by the sheepdogs.
A feast was made by Amir's mother, followed by a shisha pipe with his father.

That night curiosity, generosity, intrigue and friendship all followed us into their Bedouin home.
Syrian desert October/November 2007

The hills around Kabul

I decided to climb a hill.
My friend and travel buddy Egill and I decided to climb the biggest hill we could see, as to get the best view of the city.
On the way up some children were waving for us to go and see them. We wandered over and their father (photographed) invited us in for tea and biscuits.
We discussed the view over Kabul, his life and the loss of his leg by standing on a landmine, left over from the war against the Soviets in a previous decade.
He directed us to the best path, waved goodbye and continued sitting on his chair overlooking Kabul, watching the city living.