Victoria Twead

Goodbye sand and suffocating heat. Goodbye political protests, shootings and constant helicopter activity above. Sadly, goodbye to our friends, too. To be honest, we’d grown fond of Bahrain and leaving it was harder than we thought it would be. I

Isn’t it exhilarating when you’ve been fretting over a life-changing decision, finally make up your minds, and just know you’ve made the right choice? That’s how Joe and I felt after we typed this letter: Dear Ms. N,Please accept this

A calendar hangs on the kitchen wall here in our luxury apartment in the city of Manama, Bahrain. It is a mass of arrows, untidy notes and spidery scribbles, but the eye is drawn to the thick, black lines created

Nobody is allowed to talk about what is happening here in the Kingdom of Bahrain. The news channels and internet have fallen silent, and I, too, will say little. Joe and I only have 10 weeks to complete of our

What a sad month… As you all know, Joe and I left our beloved Spanish village to work in the Middle East for one year, teaching at an International school. Many people had hardly heard of the Kingdom of Bahrain,

Neither Joe nor I have driven a car in six months. Not since we left El Hoyo, our beloved Spanish mountain village to work for a year teaching in the Middle East. In Spain, our little jeep was essential. The

It’s hard getting up in the morning before the red sun climbs over the desert horizon. It’s hard catching the bus to school as it weaves between skyscrapers picking up other sleepy teachers. It’s hard dropping the card into the

Christmas in our little Spanish mountain village of El Hoyo is a low-key affair, but charming. A banner pronouncing ‘Feliz Navidad’ is hung across the entrance to the village and the trees in the square are decked with white fairy

In our little mountain village in Spain, children rule. They run wild in the streets, get up to all sorts of mischief and are regarded as little angels by their doting parents. And they are. Joe and I have always

October is the month for stock-piling firewood in our little Spanish village of El Hoyo. Evenings are very cool, and by the end of the month we would be lighting the wood-burning stove nightly. Not so here in the Kingdom