In 1994 in Melbourne, Australia, my dad sat in peace. He had marched and fought, and now could return to the country he’d left, with pride and without fear. 13 years later, we were packed up and heading across the world from our life in Australia to post-Apartheid South Africa. *
April 2007 The anticipation…
It’s 2am in Paris. We haven’t slept or eaten properly in over 30 hours and the De Bercy bus station greets us with the scent of dank mould and urine. An attempt at using the toilet reveals a homeless man passed out on the cold floor and the end of the bus ride from London…