New Zealand Listener

The crumbling dump

Some years ago, I was in Toronto for the International Festival of Authors. Walking through the lobby of the Westin Hotel, I became aware of people glaring, scowling and head-shaking. There were jeers, a hiss. What had I done? Had I somehow caused terrible offence to all good Canadians?

I turned to flee, and almost crashed into Dick Cheney, the

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