Mad Max

We headed north, and stayed at a small town on the border with Angola. We went to a bar, and one slightly sleazy local started trying to chat up the girls in our group. When I spoke to him he started to get a bit mad.

"Ah facking hate the facking inglish" he said in a strong Boer accent. "But ah will tolerate you". He one arm - the other was cut below the elbow as a result of an incident with a crocodile, and he was ardent in his criticism of Britain because of the Anglo-Boer war. I chatted to him a while, and he kept trying to put his half arm round me and asking me if I was "a real man". I left after a while, but apparently he started showing knives to the other Brits.