Jimmy ‘Banjo’ MacKenzie sat in his wooden humpy at the back of the hotel in Gwalia. He was proud that in the incredible mess that was his kitchen everything was electric. That meant a lightbulb and a can opener. In another room was a fridge and an air-conditioner. The electricity for the small luxuries was donated by the managers of the local mine, Sons of Gwalia. Even with the air-conditioner on an old thermometer was recording 45°. Crouching as he did on a chair, with his knees under his chin, he proclaimed everything he needed was within easy reach. When … Continue reading ‘Spuds, Onions and a Treacle Tin With the Lid Off’