Culprit

This stadium close to my apartment is usually humping out concert music between Thursdays and Sundays. There’s a sports stadium next to it, which contributes to the action. It’s useful that I’m not an early sleeper.

My landlady called saying she’d arranged someone to come on Saturday morning to dismantle the double bed in the spare room, and replace with a new one. I hadn’t requested this but she was so enthusiastic about it that I didn’t argue too much about the fact I couldn’t sleep to my own rhythm at the weekend. I’ve noticed that all Mozambicans think everyone else gets up at 5.30am.

I met up with Gisela and her group of friends to celebrate her birthday. I stuck to gin as the rumour that the Mozambican lager 2M gives terrible hangovers has been borne out by experience. Brits be warned because Nando’s has introduced 2M in a bid to appear more cosmopolitan.

An Italian guy joined and established that I was British.

‘Are you a Brexiteer?’

‘F*ck no’

‘Where are the Brexiteers? Every British I speak to says they’re against it’

‘You might not meet many who’ve come to live in Maputo. Try England or the Costa del Sol’

The night had good company. I ran into two British guys travelling in Mozambique. One who’s in the civil service fast track programme filling a role in an obscure HMRC function that he says is in reality obsolete. Ironic that UK taxpayers are supporting the upkeep of this. The other guy works in venture capitalism but dislikes the sector due to the amount of quaffing and willy-waving at networking events.