Rub' al-Khali

During the first hours of April, heavy snow began to fall and soon the world was glaringly white again. By lunchtime one could at least hear water dripping down from the balcony, as a reminder that the setback is only temporary. Nevertheless, I looked through the bookshelf for an old Condé Nast Traveler and made some Mediterranean potato salad to fight off my melancholy.

The last week has been mad at work and still I have a long list of things to do, including submitting yet another research application, this time to Formas. But for a moment, I decided to instead dream of the Empty Quarter and its endless dunes. Somehow, the more I travel to the Arabian Peninsula, the more I want to return, especially to the desert.