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Confession

I can only plead temporary insanity. I had been back in South Africa a few days and was feeling a little home sick. So when I was Spar in Mtubatuba and saw not only an English language newspaper but, of all things a UK international edition I could not help myself. In the same situation you would have done the same - you would have bought the Daily Express.

I see it now, on the bottom of a pile of papers, like a dirty magazine I forgot to hide and hope no one will notice. Even looking at it brings the flush of shame to my cheeks. And the worse thing of all was that I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the fact that the man who built himself a shed in the shape of a Roman temple deserves a story occupying two-thirds of page 3, I enjoyed the sad little picture that appeared to show Prince Charles groping a female soldier, I laughed with excitement and glee when I got to page 7 and found that Kylie will be in the Doctor Who Christmas Special and worst of all, I read all of Ann Widdecombes column. And it didn't make me angry.

So, spare a thought for those of us cut off from British culture and in danger of latching thoughtlessly and desperately onto the nearest thing resembling it - no matter how deceptive. And thank God for my only hope of cultural salvation: the BBC and the internet and the GPRS enabled mobile telephone.

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