Words and Pictures from the Middle East
Welcome to Alaska said the bleary-eyed Egyptian man sitting at the next table, my tired smirk of a reply was enough of an invitation for him to slide his seat over and join me. It was still early, the chocolaty coffee was not strong enough and had yet to work its magic, I wasn’t feeling…
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Their bulky silhouettes sashay with a grace that belies their girth, a languid gait, and a regular routine that requires no guidance, the blue light gives way to hazy dawn, where the mist mixes with the smoke from clay ovens, and the boys are heading to the fields to work. Bubalus bubalis the beautiful Latin…
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Stepping out of the minibus I staggered trying to stamp my feet on the side of the road, exhaust fumes and dust swirled as the bus left me, the four or was it five hours scrunched up at the back had cut the blood supply to my legs and now I was stumbling like an…
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It’s the land of Orpheus and serpents and dancing trees, and where the landscape has been carved by dragons
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Sitting in silence on a red sofa, gaze transfixed to a muted tv. January 2011. I had hardly left that sofa just watching history unfold via al Jazeera, this time I was squeezed between Syrian friends with tears in their eyes. We were in Syria and the revolution was in Egypt and of all the…
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John Wreford Photographer 