Millions upon millions of words have been written about the death of Nelson Mandela. I have nothing new to add.
But I did visited Robben Island once on a travel trip to the great city of Cape Town.
It is impossible to imagine what it was like to live in that stark cell, with its blanket and wooden table, year after year after year. The hours spent staring at grey concrete.
But that room was the eggshell that hatched a rare and great human being.
Just peering through the bars, tasting the damp air, was immensely moving.
***
How to fill a day? Now Rock Hard is published I’m hoping to chill a little.
But you can only have so many lie-ins as the alarm clock gathers dust.
I love The Sweeney, The Professional, The Saint, Kojak and Magnum PI but you can only watch so many TV reruns in an afternoon.
Even the attractions of the pub wear a little thin if you’re in every day.
Too much loafing around is against my nature. I get guilt pangs.
I’ve thought about learning a language – Russian, Arabic or Mandarin. And I’ve always fancied cheese making.
But nature abhors a vacuum. Rock Hard has received a very positive response from readers. I begin to feel the tug of gravitational forces drawing me down into Danny5.
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