Still, you can't have everything. In fact, if you're satirists in Croatia, you can't have anything, if the government can help it. The Feral Trib has just been socked with a 50 per cent sales tax, normally reserved for porno mags and likely to put the paper out of business. In any case, its journalists at any moment can find themselves being hustled off into the army without warning. Our message for the staff in Split is simple: Fe godwn ni eto - very roughly, Welsh for 'Don't let the bastards get you down.'
Why Welsh, you ask? No reason, no reason . . . Oh well, okay: we have to admit that while we have known of Split for some time, the existence of a beautiful Cardiff suburb called Splott has only recently come to our attention. And - it's the oddest thing - ever since, it's been impossible to think of Split without also remembering Splott. In the bath yesterday, it suddenly became plain that these two places should be 'twinned' as soon as possible, with attractive signs pointing out their connection erected on the outskirts of both.