Blue tiled mosques, hot stone searing on bare feet. Inside-peaceful mausoleums where the stone is cool and calm, men and women lightly touch their foreheads to the grave, murmuring softly.
Sunlight filtered, paying its respects to the dead whilst fairy lights flash and pidgeons nestle in the high domed ceiling.
Despite enjoying the steeped history of this place I know it is time to move on when the hotel manager brings me into his office to show me little signs he`s made of my name…writing it over and over again and colouring it in carefully ...I leave early the next morning...
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