‘Spare any change mate?’ ‘No, sorry’ ‘But I can hear it jangling in your pocket’, he responds aggressively. I speed up my pace, even with a heavy rucksack, a homeless guy won’t match my pace. He gives up the chase and I enter Birmingham’s Digbeth bus station. I

Clutching freshly stamped passports we pass through the Namibian border post and onto the desert highway. There is a stop sign implanted in the sand ahead, together with a vague white line across the dusty road. Police officers are dealing with another driver, obviously leaving Namibia, and glance in my