As often as I can think of an excuse to do so, I pop into this unprepossessing looking place. As you can tell if you know your flags, it stocks South African and Zimbabwean goods. It started life as a biltong and droeëwors (DREW-uh VORCE) factory and grew organically in response to customer demand into the haven that it is today. I go there even when I don't need anything. It's the one place in the UK where everyone sounds like me, everyone is forthright, and everyone 'gets' me. What's not to like?