An age-old city is like a pond. With its colours and reflections. Its chills and murk. Its ferment, its sorcery, its hidden life.A city is like a woman, with a woman’s desires and dislikes. Her...

It was Stevenson, I think, who most notably that there are some places that simply demand a story should be told of them. …After all, perhaps Stevenson had only half of the matter. It is...

Here, in a few words, you’ve said all you need to say. People stand by each other, but they don’t talk. It’s remarkable. I’ve investigated the extraordinary history of these walls. I think I’m the...