Monday, January 05, 2026

2 Last of the Rhodesians: Chronicles of an African anarchist: The Gokwe Kid – Searching for Rhodesia 2

 

Journal: Töging am Inn, Bavaria, Germany 31.12.2025




Last day of the year. It is time to go into the future. I need this place as much as I need a brain transplant - although the jury is still out on that idea. It is -1c and outside is a light blanket of frozen snow and ice.

Taxi to pick me up 12.00 noon. Two hours plus on the train. Three hours at the airport and the nightmare of going through Passport Control even though I am leaving, and (in theory) onto a Pegasus Airline to Istanbul.

Hang around there for two hours and, (in theory) another flying horse to Sharm El Sheikh and by taxi to Sawa camp. That is the plan and I should be arriving there at about 5.00am Greenwich plus two, tomorrow on NEW YEARS Day! Hurray hey, I hope…

So, with the few hours remaining, I need to find my passport, download my favourite porn videos, make some sandwiches with my secret egg spread wrapped in the centre pages of an old wank mag, (I am a bit worried about the herbs I used. They could put an elephant to sleep,) throw some clothes into a suitcase.

To keep me ticking along nicely... I am already stoned. When I arrive, I hope and expect to be in a very strange mind set. I will light up a fat doobie and as I unpack my stuff (presuming suitcase arrived and has not been confiscated,) and laugh happily as I realise that I had forgotten to pack essentials and enjoy the confusion I have created in my head.

Why do I have a dog chewed tennis ball, a metal kebab stick (maybe for the spear fishing,) a toy cactus called Bob, one sock, (the other must have been eaten by the washing machine,) and a huge, swollen black bin bag full of stinking household rubbish?

Job done.

Or… Things might not quite go as this vague plan. So, as you celebrate the end of 25 greet 26, have a look here to see if I am still alive.

Actually, I think I will constantly keep you updated using the phone hence not much text. I wonder if I can do recordings. Oooh, so much to do. If you live an ordinary life, its just an ordinary story and in later life you turn into a lump of rotting meat with a brain resembling and as useful as - a 13-month-old cabbage you found at the back of a cupboard whilst looking for the toilet.

PS -to myself. Remember to take the rubbish out, turn off the lights (I forgot last holiday. One neighbour actually whatsapp me asking who was living there,) and I have, just in case, next to some contraband… a tube of Vaseline and a small, illustrated copy of an Arabic/English - The Homosexual Karma Sutra for Foreign Detainees.

Also, in the great transgression from one fucked up year to the next well fucked up year – take time to think of those less well off and deservingly so than yourself, smile and murmur ‘Fuck ‘em’, and wish them, in a touch of humility and humanitarian thought – Give them hope that when their time comes to be another molecule of shite wandering the cosmos, that they don’t bump once more into you.

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