THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

I fought my way through the touts and made my way uphill to the kettle-shaped stadium.  It was an unearthly sight, the crowd of people emerging from darkness into luminous brown fog, the yells, the dust rising, the mountainside smouldering under a sky which, because of the dust, was starless.  At that point, I considered turning back; but the mob was propelling me forward towards the stadium where the roar of the spectators inside made a sound like flames howling in a chimney.  The mob took up this cry and surged past me, stirring up the dust.  There were women frying bananas and meat-cakes over fires on the walkway that ran around the outside perimeter of the stadium.  The smoke from these fires and the dust made each searchlight seem to burn with a smoky flame.  The touts reappeared nearer the stadium.  They were hysterical now.

Theroux/Patagonian