The Economist has a man – or is it a woman? who knows in bylineless world – in Zimbabwe and they’re writing a diary, at least this week they are,

The contact is late, he does not pick up his phone, and night has fallen. I feel increasingly uncomfortable. Something is wrong. After a while, we decide that hanging out in the hotel parking lot, which looks out on the main street, is probably not a great idea, and we go and look for petrol… This feels like a cheap spy movie. link