On Friday night I had dinner with my two of my French publishers.
One of them said: “I read that you tried to commit suicide en route to Afghanistan. Where are you going to commit suicide next time?”
About fifteen minutes later he added: “I'm addicted to my wife, but I’d love to you visit your ‘nana’ somewhere in Europe while you are in South-Africa. South-Africa doesn't interest me.”
It was a lovely evening in Le Tournon, one of the better evenings I dare to say.