The month in Florence is down to its last few days. Dr Bomboka who I was assured had been in Venice where I endeavoured to locate him and interview him for this review, has, it seems completely disappeared. Did or does he even exist? How close is Africa? The word on the street is that it is getting closer. We don’t know who is going to eat Europe but there is enough hunger in the world and it would seem that a large chunk of that hunger has been created by Europe itself, as drunk with dreams of power it set out to eat the rest of the world, particularly if there appeared shiny bits of gold to be had. Or potatoes. Or tomatoes. Or chillies. Or slaves. Because.
Well. Negotiating the deal. Here’s the thing. I have to remind myself or tell myself the story of why it is a good thing to make money. Hey! Why can’t I live without making money? Silly idea. Though it seems at times too hard to be bothered with the whole senselessness of it. Dr. Bomboka promised me riches. Well. I think he did. And it seemed to me that what he was telling me was that there was just gargantuan, huge amounts of wealth – gold and rare gems, currency US dollars, sterling, euros, whatever I could dream of, about to fall into my lap whether I wanted it or not. Crazy, huh! But, here’s the thing. I had to meet him. In person. No Skype calls. No lawyer intermediaries. Person to person. Eyeball to eyeball. Friends warned me but I thought, well what the hell, what have I got to lose, I can’t be any worse off. The last bit was way off course, of course. Of course I am now worse off, scraping the barrel. Here’s the thing, if you’re about to become filthy rich what’s the point of being a skinflint about things. Why travel second class when first class is there for the asking. Why go to a cheap restaurant when a world class chef is performing just round the corner. Who wants to stay in some two star filthy hotel when the doorman is opening the door for me at the five star hotel in which I have booked a room for a couple of weeks. Only two weeks, surely that’s not too much to ask is it. I mean it’s not as though I’m greedy.
At least I kept my return ticket even if it is on easyJet.
But look, it was worth every penny. I think it was. I know what you’re thinking: wait until it gets to the belt tightening bit. The enforced dieting. Not just the 5:2 diet but the hopefully 500 calories a day diet. The what can I sell now daily question. How much will you give me for that table? Is that all? I paid three times that thirty years ago.
Maybe I’ll find some fisherman to take me across to Africa. I’ll make out that I’m an experienced seaman with all the relevant paperwork.
Yeah. It might just work.