What I found in the Zanzibar chest was a story of lives so utterly differ­ent from my own, so exotic, set in another part of the world and in another time. I had never believed in any great cause; I was sent to fight no wars. What I admired most about my father, Davey, and those like them is that they were men of action, whereas I was ever the observer, not the participant, which is the main reason why I’m able to be here to tell this story. Aidan Hartley, a foreign correspondent, burned-out from the horror of covering the terrifying micro wars of the 1990s, from Rwanda to Bosnia, seeks solace and solitude in the remote mountains and deserts of southern Arabia and the Yemen, following his father’s death. While there, he finds himself on the trail of the tragic story of an old friend of his father’s, who fell in love and was murdered in southern Arabia fifty years ago. As the terrible events of the past unfold, Hartley finds his own kind of deliverance. Utterly absorbing. This book tells two stories. The first is Hartley's family history, in particular the story of Peter Davey, a friend of Hartley's dad who 'goes native' in Yemen while working to maintain peace amongst the Sheikhs who live in a rapidly changing world. The second story is that of Hartley's own experiences (at times devastating) working as a foreign news correspondent for Reuters. The book details the author's quest to travel to Yemen and learn as much as possible and see the location that make up his fathers friend's journal, and to learn how and why he died. Hartley was born just as the paradise whites had forged in east Africa was falling from grace. After selling their ranch in Tanzania, his family moved to Kenya, and his father went into the aid industry. From then on, the young Aidan saw him only intermittently. While his mother took her children to England, his father remained with his nomads, took an Ethiopian mistress and showed little interest in his children's schooling.

An epic narrative combining the literary reportage of Ryszard Kapuściński with a historical love story reminiscent of Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient. d) All conditions, notices, descriptions, statements and other matters in the catalogue and elsewhere concerning any lot are subject to any statements modifying or affecting the same made by the Auctioneer from the rostrum prior to any bid being accepted for the lot. The majority of Africa went from being ruled by Europe and the people being treated like shit, to being ruled by dictators who the people either elected or who took over via a coup, and treated the people like shit. And when those leaders were toppled a new madman dictator took their place, to loot the country and treat the people like shit. This is why there are certainly no easy answers to fixing Africa, if in fact there is a fix. The Auctioneers reserve the right to cancel any sale at any time, should they deem it necessary, this will be at Hannam’s Auctioneers Ltd discretion.

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As Hartley finds himself in the midst of war-torn Somalia, Serbia and Rwanda, his writing becomes darker and eventually he cannot distance himself from the horror.

Behind his occasional bombast Hartley's desire to belong remains constant. Africa, his lost home, has failed him, so he looks to the fraternity of newsmen instead. He describes his years on the road as some never-to-be-repeated golden age of news. But this is ridiculous, as he later concedes: "Forgotten incidents of history become our unforgettable days." At last, wearying of journalism, he seeks in Davey's story confirmation that he is his forefathers' son. General. Whilst Lots Road Auctions makes every effort to ensure the accuracy of their catalogues and the description of any lot:- Hieronymous Bosch reincarnated as a frontline correspondent invited to the midnight banquet of Africa’s bloody horrors, that’s who Aidan Hartley seems to be, an outrageously brave and anguished heart disgorging the never-inert legacies of colonialism.”—Bob Shacochis, author of The Immaculate Invasion Britain was known as “home.” Yet for us, it was a distant island, where after all these years it was still raining. It was almost entirely through BBC radio that we kept in touch with an idea of England, which was cleansed by the frequencies of short wave and my parents’ vaguely remembered sense of patriotism. England greeted us each dawn with the BBC World Service signature tune, “Lero Lero, Lilli burlero.” Wherever we were, Big Ben tolled the hour and Dad, doing his yoga while drinking his early morning tea, gazed out at our adopted landscape, at a rising desert sun, or at the fishermen punting their outrigger canoes into the surf. Mesmerizing. . . . A Sweeping, poetic homage to Africa, a continent made vivid by Hartley’s capable, stunning prose.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review)At all times, Hartley writes with a raw honesty about not just the horrors he witnesses, but his feelings and reactions to those events. Often, he has Schindleresque moments of 'I could have done more to help'. Other times, he shares his dad's feelings that the British should never have gone into Africa in the first place, yet having colonised, should never have then left. This constant honesty and self-reflection is refreshing. In the Nineteenth Century, Europeans were attracted to the wealth of the tiny island. It was such an obvious trading entrepot and was one of the few places in Africa that had plenty of cash. It was also helpful that the island climate was more accommodating to Europeans and there were less nasty diseases to afflict them than in most of the rest of the continent. It was a natural hub of civilisations, even if much of the wealth was a by-product of slavery. confirm that you have read, understood and will comply with Lots Road Auctions Buyer's Conditions of Sale Large chests for dowries and other uses of course also existed, but relatively few have survived. There are numerous mentions of them in Arabic literature, and they also appear among documents in the Cairo Genizah. (See sidebar) The 14th-century Mamluk-era historian Al-Maqrizi describes the chests available at the specialized market in Cairo. Some combined chest and taht, or a daybed (like those still being made in Java during the early 20th century), while others, also called muqaddimah, were made of leather or sometimes bamboo, and they seem to have been in use as cosmetics boxes.

Hartley uses crisp, to-the-point prose threaded with delicious, dark humor and a sense of the absurd that reaches its height as he details the bungled U.N. intervention in Somalia. His accounts of bloodshed and corruption are all the more effective for his refusal to sugarcoat it. . . . In the end, one can only stand as witness, and Hartley is an eloquent one.”—Claudia La Rocco, Associated Press confirm that you are authorised to provide credit/debit card details to Lots Road Auctions through www.the-saleroom.com

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Morocco also has its own wider tradition of painted furniture, but here, geometric patterns that often match with the architectural decoration are the norm, and the arched design is particularly popular. Old pieces are rare, but there is a flourishing reproduction industry, although the colors used tend to be brighter than the originals. Traditional Moroccan chests sometimes have curved tops, a detail that is probably the result of Spanish and Portuguese influence, particularly along the coast.

Hannam’s Auctioneers Ltd will not release goods to any buyer in the saleroom, until cheques have been cleared. A period of five working days will be needed to clear the cheques, and a period of 2 days for bank transfers. The title refers to a chest his father had with diaries and journals detailing his fathers work during the last 30 some years of British colonial rule in Africa and Yemen.

An examination of colonialism and its consequences. “A sweeping, poetic homage to Africa, a continent made vivid by Hartley’s capable, stunning prose” (Publishers Weekly). My father could have made his life in almost any part of the empire. Many of his generation went overseas, including his brother Ronald. I remember Uncle Ronald, a ukulele-playing agricultural college principal in Fiji who had his singing Bulgarian wife shave him before he turned out of bed each morning. At college in Trinidad, notices went up offering jobs in everything from rubber in Malaya and tea planting in Ceylon to ranching in Australia. My father chose Africa because of his mother, Daisy, who told him stories of life in the Cape in the nineteenth century and remembered trekking across the veld in an ox wagon when she was still a little girl. My father was also inspired to live overseas by his paternal uncle Ernest, whom he loved. Ernest was a businessman in India, a keen sportsman, and a raffish character with a great sense of humor, whose daughter grew up to become the actress Vivien Leigh. During the summer of 1928, Ernest and his wife Gertrude leased the house of the Earl of Mayo in Galway and Dad went to join them for a summer’s fishing. He fell a little in love with the precocious, adolescent Vivien. “Everybody knew it,” a gossipy aunt told me. She gave him a book of poems by Banjo Paterson, signed “To my favorite cousin with love from Viv.” My father adored “The Man from Snowy River” for the rest of his life. The Shirazi chests were particularly elaborate, as Unwin describes, with “sparse heavy cast brass plating ... [and] diamond-shaped disks.” One of the rare dated examples belonged to Sayyida Salme, the daughter of the early 19th-century Omani sultan of Zanzibar Said bin Sultan al-Said, and it is now in the Sultan’s palace. Salme married a German merchant in 1866 and fled Zanzibar, which gives a probable date for the chest. Married as Emily Ruete, her autobiography, Memoirs of an Arabian Princess, published n 1907, sheds unique light on the period. Ma Hartley esagera, non ha ritmo, è caotico, a ogni cosa dedica al massimo un rigo e mezzo, affastella nomi date luoghi eventi fatti, esagera col succo e col colore, l'esotico, il pittoresco. From the Dir Valley in northern Pakistan, this chest is carved from Himalayan cedar. Its pieces are joined, not nailed. Its legs are part of its design, and their rise above the lid is characteristic of the region’s style. The wooden tab on the right is used to pull open a front panel.