The trouble with frequent travelling means missing out on the really important news, such as the extension of a city’s dry days on account of someone’s religious views. I’ve been known to bolt the hotel room or front door before pouring myself a tot, because who knows where the vigilantes might strike next. Or even who the vigilantes are — Auntyji from the balcony opposite who doesn’t approve of the kids’ partying ways, or Uncleji from three houses down whose scathing views have silenced innumerable “secular” debates without a whimper of opposition. Imagine arriving for an event in a city
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