My husband John Miller and I went from the UK to work in Zambia for a few years in the early 1980s. There was a British Council where we could borrow books but no newspapers. These were the days before phones, internet and social media. John ordered a copy of the Guardian Weekly, which arrived printed on its airmail-thin paper. This became our keyhole to the world.
It was a time of civil unrest in neighbouring Zimbabwe; the paper was full of warnings about killings of white people and the British High Commission advised people not to go. Being too young to take anything like that seriously, we spent several weeks driving round the country.
We explained it was a bit like Belfast – just because there were bombs didn’t make all of Belfast unsafe. Later we lived in Hong Kong and travelled in China around the time of Tiananmen Square. Same story – life went on.
Now we live in Australia in the digital age and have a surplus of information. Nobody warns us about the dangers of the outback.
We still read the Weekly as a civilised synopsis. We appreciate the insightful reporting and comments, art and book reviews, and the fact we always learn something new.
We are travelling in a camper van in the Australian interior before relocating back to the UK and will shortly arrive in Alice Springs – will we find a Guardian Weekly in Alice?
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