The Hairy Bikers' Cookbook is a bit of an acquired taste, I find. I'm not sure I've acquired it yet. The other day I saw them cavorting in the vast Namib desert, casually putting meat through a grinder and informing us that it was zebra- pronounced to make the 'e' sound like the one in 'let'- and making a 'zebra burger.'
Anyway, the point is, I was entranced by the scenes of the desert. Vast, open dunes for as far as the eye could see, the color a strange other-worldly mixture of gold, brick-red and pink. It was awesome, in the true sense of the word. The one time I came close to the desert in recent memory was in Nevada, and that was full of scrubby little trees- very unsatisfying. I long for acres of just sand, right until the horizon.
I wonder what this means. Along with a new fascination for the color yellow, a longing for the vast open spaces. Hmmm.