Malindi, the Indian Ocean
When I lived in Jerusalem a long time ago, I often visited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where the Catholics, the Greeks, the Syrians and Armenians had their separate territories within the sacred complex of Christ’s Calvary, tomb and Resurrection. (The Ethiopian priests were all unfairly banished to the roof.) Every year, one of the denominations would say: ‘The ceiling is blackened by candle smoke — we should clean it.’ And all the other denominations would say: ‘Noooo — this is a terrible idea. It should not be done.’ The next year, another of the denominations would also say: ‘The ceiling is blackened by smoke, let’s clean it.’ Noooo would come the loud answer from everybody — and so the ceiling stayed blackened as the years passed.
This month I realised that St Helena’s sacred church is the model for all family-owned holiday homes, whether they are on a mountain, in Tuscany or on the sea.
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