As far as the eye can see they rise-up in their thousands from the burnt arid plains, hollow temples and stupas of a medieval Buddhist kingdom, edged by the distant mountains to the east and the Irrawaddy River to the west. The countryside is flat, dry and dusty with thirsty green trees, the white fluffs…
The final part of searching for the lost Molendinar Burn.
Exploring an abandoned British colonial club in downtown Yangon, Burma (Myanmar).
Following the forgotten half-mythical Molendinar Burn leads the Glasgow Chronicler and I into the heart of Glasgow’s gangster edgelands.
The heretical Glasgow Chronicler and I follow a lost burn through gangster edgelands, deserted cemeteries and Mossad conspiracies to the old mythical heart of the city.
The atmosphere was quiet and wistful as we drifted one late Sunday afternoon through the grand squares and charming side-streets of Salzburg.
It was not a dignified entrance. I crawled under a fence, forced my way through nettles and barbwire, and gingerly walked over shifting piles of debris.
How a liberal German sex pioneer founded a notorious scientific sex institute and fell foul of the Nazis.