Miles was in the school computer room, shooting the bull with Bill Robinson, a computer room boss in the Jerry Garcia mould: hairy, venerable, big, erudite. They were talking about Macumba. Macumba is big in Salvador. Macumba and Candomble. As the discussion ranged over their panglobal experiences of Juju, Voodoo and instant Karma, Bill said, "I was reading a paper last week that said about 80% of people in West Africa who believe they are dying as a result of 'Voodoo', die of kidney failure," and as Bill talked about rat poison, Miles drifted to Nigeria, where everything suddenly made sense. Teaching at the Chief's Complex was a complex business indeed. It was the most expensive private educational establishment in some part of Africa or other. Miles had a lot of things to worry about, being ... read more

Miles and Sally shared a dark private room on the top floor. Miles was the only patient on the floor. Sally was the only other human apart from when a nice nurse came to give him Pethedine shots for the agonizing throbbing in his back. Their flight to London had been cancelled. There were no humans on the floor below either. Miles mused happily; if he could choose his exit, 'mystery tropical illness' would be very high on his list. The dialysis room had been something else! It was positively space age, everyone in paper suits. Miles had not really bothered to follow what happened much. They gave him a dialysis, he felt much better, their flight was cancelled, he had terrible back pain, like he had been given the most severe and specific kicking. He ... read more

The day after the BBQ, Miles was slightly unwell. By the evening, he was really quite ill. Kind of malarial. Without his permission Sally went to Mrs O'Donnel's house and returned with Dr Unguru. He was the headmistress's boyfriend and owner of the local hospital. He had not touched anything but money at work for years. He examined Miles, declared that he had pneumonia and told him to come to hospital the next day. The next day, Sunday, they headed to the hospital where a nice young man declared he had gastroenteritis and malaria. Nothing like pneumonia. Miles was given some antibiotics. Two hours later, back at home, Miles was bouncing up and down, thrashing wildly, fountaining sweat, growling like a dog and floating three feet above the bed. Sally called the hospital and he immediately ... read more

Gabriel and Michael are going to Lake Awasa for half-term. Gabriel is going for the excellent birdwatching, Michael is going just to get out of Addis. Gabriel stows his pack on the roof, the more paranoid Michael elects to sit on the bus for ten hours with his pack on his knee. This is OK, but Gabriel knows he will be sharing a seat with Michael and wishes he wasn't such ust a neurotic jerk. In comparison to the typical passengers, M & G are giants, and their packs are giants' packs. The first part of the journey is totally uneventful. They have been Ethiopia long enough to have no interest in talking to the kind of jeks who talk to faranj on buses. The annoying kids, chickens, dogs and goats are exactly that: annoyances. They ... read more

Cotonou, the 'safest city in Africa', was quite dull. Miles and Sally ate a pizza and were strolling towards the hotel when Sally's bag was snatched. Miles bolted after the thief at slightly less than top speed, down narrow dark alleys, leaping across drainage ditches, vaulting fences, and kicking a dog in the head. Cowboy boots were not made for running, nor was Miles. He casually wondered about the abandoned Sally, whether he would see or hear of himself again and pounded stupidly on, thief still in sight. The robber entered a house. Miles followed, bursting into a simple sitting room where a family watched TV, no thief in sight. Miles, huge and white, stood panting, then spun on his Cuban heel and exited wordlessly. In a candlelit night Mileset he laughed guiltily at the remnants ... read more

It was Miles and Sally's turn to host a BBQ in the compound. Around 6am, there was a knock at the door. It was Samuel with two goats on a string. Which goat are you liking to eat, sah? Samuel, I told you I did not want to see the goat. Who will then say which goat, sah? You will say Samuel. You say. Miles slammed the door as Sally came downstairs. Who is at the door? Nothing! barked Miles. Sally furrowed her brow and opened the door. Meh, meh said the goats. Oooooh! They are sooooo cute! But then her brain started to work and she realized she was looking at her dinner You said that... I told him not to... Sally slammed the door. That afternoon Miles strolled across the compound to have a ... read more

Gabriel is being led around the medina by a guide called Omar. Gabriel has disappointed Omar by not purchasing anything from crappy stores which will pay him a commission. Omar is doing everything he can to terrify Gabriel with horrible tales of epic misfortune visited on parsimonious tourists. Gabriel has not seen any beer in the medina and that displeases him. Nor has he seen or smelled any sign of kif. Gabriel does not see the point in hot smelly narrow alleyways without drugs or alcohol. Eventually, he is led into a gigantic carpet warehouse and given some mint tea. The warehouse is both visually and olfactorily stimulating. It is very noisy. He is encouraged to touch the carpets. Gabriel is perched on a stool and carpets are strewn before him. A carpet expert - and ... read more

Gabriel has never been anywhere before. Except the pub. Pub good: lectures bad. Especially mechanical engineering lectures. Gabriel goes to the pub. Then later, after he fails his tripos and gets booted, he goes to Morocco through the power of his thumb and two ferries. Or so he thinks. But he is in Ceuta, which is Spain. Morocco is a no man's land away Slumped drunk in the ferry terminal in Algericas, he was found by Vaarti and befriended. The friendly human was tall, blond, male: claimed to be Finnish. He limpetted onto Gabriel and now, they stand together, by a sign in a scrubby wasteland indicating they are about to leave Spain. It is November. They are the only humans in sight who resemble anything but Moors, though Gabriel feels like a blasted heath. A ... read more

The two men stared at each other across the beaten laterite floor of the hut. Trekkers across this part of the Sperrgebiet were mustered into groups of at least four before setting out for a gruelling two week march across the Succulent Karoo. The land, owned by the Namibia Diamond Conglomerate, is an area of outstanding natural beauty and part of one of the greatest national parks in the world. Parties of walkers were encouraged. The Conglomerate were happy to let the world see the pristine state of the wilderness over which it presided. But these trips were not cheap. All parties were accompanied by a guide, two or more armed guards, a cook, and at least four porters. Security was extremely strict. At the end of the trek, you were obliged to remain in a ... read more

Karaoke is not what you think at all. The room, about the size of a semi-detached Scottish council house with the internal walls knocked out, is full of drunk Chinese guys. The lighting is 1970s porn movie. There are two TV screens, one generating the Karaoke and another for sport: dirt-track horse racing, cage-fighting or figure skating. Snacks lie ignored on the table. It is never clear who is paying. And yes, these guys sing. One of them will not be completely unbearably awful, but he will still be ear-splitting, embarrassing, woeful. All the rest will be beyond my lexical powers. The backing tracks are more 1970’s porn and the background video is often 1970’s porn too, without the actual porn. Men, a bit like Tom Selleck or James Brolin, often in open necked shirts, squire ... read more