I wrote letters to mum and dad which doubled as my diary/travelogue. By 10 August, it was clear that I’d arrive home before the letters, so I concluded my journal using scrappy note paper. Here’s a scan of the four pages that remain.
I should point out, to completists in search of my diary entries for 10th and 11th August, that it seems those have got lost. I know that, on 10th August, I did track down the Jewish businessman in Port Louis whom I had sought in vain on 9th. I strongly suspect that my notes for 10th and 11th August were stored with the article I wrote about my 10th August encounter, which, sadly, my mother threw out with other items of my juvenilia which she decided I couldn’t possibly wish to keep. No, I am not over it.
