A little over twenty years ago, a friend took me along to a family drinks party. The host was his uncle, an English lawyer who for many years had served as a judge in Rhodesia. After Rhodesia became Zimbabwe the uncle returned to the UK. Now he was lecturing at a British university.

The uncle was a pleasant, urbane character, and he served us very good wine. But the moment he revealed its origin, it turned to vinegar in my mouth.

“South African. I brought a large amount home with me. I expect it’ll keep me going for years.”   Read the rest of this entry »