I met Karl Finatzer in the arrivals hall at Johannesburg International and he promptly took me to an American-styled restaurant where I was expected to consume a T-bone steak the size of a toilet seat—some sort of tradition, I think. I can’t remember the time of day but my stomach was somewhere between wake-up call and breakfast time.
This was going to be no ordinary week.
Please login to continue enjoying members-only content.
This section of the article is only available for our subscribers. Please click here to subscribe to a subscription plan to view this part of the article.