Sierre Leone’s capital Freetown through the eyes of a 20-something Australian hoodlum, veteran of over 50 countries, on his first visit to Africa. The hoodlum found a population back on it’s feet but still taking baby steps. Who, even in the centre of the capital, still shower from buckets filled at the nearest well. But live in a very very special place. A place where few are unscarred by war or childhoods, most with a story that blew his mind into fragments. Of hiding from rebels in jungles, childhoods spent in refugee camps. Kid soldiers, machete amputations. Murdered parents, lost babies. Tribal ritual scars, clitoris circumcisions. Gang stabbings, mutilated corpses. Child rape, survival prostitution. Homelessness, hunger. But underneath the scars are a delightfully warm and receptive people. Who made him feel at home from day one, calling his name from across the street everywhere he walked. The school kids who jumped on his motorbike for free lifts home. Pastors who called his phone inviting him back to church. The local police officer who called his phone daily to check if he was safe. And personally visited notorious beach boys, warning them not to trouble the white man staying in the old disco with no gate or security. A place where he could room in a dilapidated open-air beachside nightclub, his window 50 meters from the ocean he swam in every morning, and 70 meters to the front door of one of the most infamous nightclubs in Africa, packed 7 nights a week with a …

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