There are places in the world of which little is known. Their past, though intertwined with the lives of ordinary men and adventurous travellers, remains somehow on the sidelines of history. Bokor is one of those places.
It is official: the wet season has landed on my front step and what an entrance it has made. My street is a stream of mud-covered feet and animals. And yet, its heartbeat remains surprisingly unchanged by the dramatic weather.
It has been a curious few months for Northern Ireland’s second largest city. Recent events have awkwardly highlighted past hurt, present hopes and future dangers; spotlighting the turbulent journey Northern Ireland has travelled since the 1998 Good Friday Agreement.