Stockholm, 2 – 3 July

I'm wearing the reason why we had to go back, an NZD20 Egyptian gellabaya. . . so for the shopping. . . but also the embrace of what at first was easy to reject, the kitsch, which is easy to dismiss as failed camp, camp not yet recognised to be, what is

0:00 /0:20 1× . . . off the plateau down to the desert floor. . . . . . unexpectedly but inevitably exactly a resort and a safari on horseback. . . see the green above, with natural misgivings about what we were walking into, across that green as we arrived came hurtling a galloping horse, stirrups swinging

firstly, some citysouk snaps. . . the cat under the bench, well, that's the bench where I ate my samosa. . . and a rare dog sighting in central Riyadh. . . preparations had begun for Noor Riyadh, the festival of light. . . and I saw cats, this boulder in a tree of unknown significance,