South Africa: I got looking for a room in London. I find one in a warehouse where Portacabins have been stacked on top of each other. A South African gril lives and works there she makes furniture. “Why did you leave SA?” I ask.
She holds two fingers to my throat like a knife. “Because people don’t do this to me with a knife here,” she says. In my typically English way, I agree this is a good reason to leave South Africa.