There are more minibus taxis in the Joburg CBD than there are on the N1 between Cape Town and Johannesburg at Christmas. Luckily, I had a fearless Uber driver to get me out of there.

Here I sit, feeling guilty because I'm resting this week instead of telling you my Big Fat Story about my day of walking around the Joburg inner city last Friday. It was an utterly extraordinary experience. But it must wait a week.

First, I have to rest, because it was the Golden City that gave me the asthma that drew attention to a much bigger underlying problem: I have pneumonia. Again. It's at a very early stage, and I'm on the penultimate day of antibiotics as I write this.

This means I have Johannesburg to thank - for giving me the asthma attack that, two days later, sent me to the emergency room, where after two hours of tests and two X-rays I was informed that I have very early stage pneumonia.

Having fought double pneumonia seven years ago - which led to me being taken off night work as Daily Maverick Chief Sub-editor and writing about food instead - I can confirm that it is potentially deadly. I am grateful to have survived. Oddly, that was before Covid struck and millions died of it.

The asthma attack last Friday night was triggered by pollen and pollution (thank you, Jozi),...