journal

روحي وما ملكت يداي فداه My soul and all that I possess are sacrifice for him وطني الحبيب وهل أحب سواه My beloved homeland, and is there any other I love? وطني الذي قد عشت تحت سماله My homeland under whose sky I have lived وهو الذي قد عشت فوق

0:00 /0:37 1× includes one of the oldest submunicipalities of Riyadh, where I popped out of the metro station at Al-Bathaa (pronounced, 'al-bot-ha'): to be rebuilt out of mudbrick or breezeblock. . . ? I was heading to the Imam Turki bin Abdullah Grand Mosque wanting to see how

0:00 /0:39 1× it had been a palace. A family were having a Halloween party as we entered, the best costume, a redhead dressed in a realistic pumpkin. Which brings to mind an episode not photographed. The opportunity arose to visit Riyadh's Saudi German Hospital for

As Sahafah, the 'l' elided with the hard 's' to follow, reading from right to left, so not 'al' as you might think, but 'as' as you might not. The 's,' in contrast to a Moon letter, in which case

sorry, had to open with that, for shock value; and for the fact that just behind where these guys are hanging out one day when I visited Al Muruj were some other guys hanging out, but it was lunchtime and they were sitting on the floor cross-legged, sharing a lunch

0:00 /0:19 1× . . . on the way. . . . . . and in the zone. . . observed. . . to the obaya mall. . . the selfie with this proprietor: the shop itself is perhaps a little fusty, high ceilings showing the ducts and bits common to mall shops, and high up on the walls sample dresses on