44. I’ll take the high road
Normally, about this time of year, I seek some peace and quiet for a period of private reflection. I take this very seriously, and I am often to be found in a cave in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains in Morocco, eating only locusts for a couple of weeks while I think about eternity. And if you believe that, you really do have to get out more.
This year, by way of a change, I decide to fly into Cape Town to see how many line-fish I can eat at one sitting in a neat little café in the V&A Waterfront.
The trip is full of surprises from the outset, starting on the long plane journey to South Africa. Like many guys, modesty is not my strong point. In fact, if they ever put self-delusion in the Olympics, I would be a ...