The strange thing I miss from SA

Whenever I meet up with South African friends in the UK, the first question is always:

“What do you miss most about South Africa?”

My first answer is biltong. My second answer is toilet paper.

I’m not joking. After 7 years in the UK, I still haven’t found a decent roll of toilet paper. Perhaps I just have a super sensitive bum!

What exactly is going on here? Why is UK toilet paper either so thin you need half a roll for one visit, or so rough it feels like you’re being punished for crimes you haven’t even committed?

And don’t get me started on the eco-friendly beige stuff. I’m all for saving the planet, but some of it feels like it’s been made from recycled GCSE homework, old Amazon boxes and a bit of cardboard from a cereal packet.

South African toilet paper knew its job. It was soft, strong, reliable and never let you down in your hour of need. It didn’t arrive with a sustainability message and the texture of sandpaper.

I moved to the UK expecting to miss the sunshine, the braais and the biltong.I did not expect to spend years standing in supermarket aisles squeezing toilet rolls through plastic packaging like I’m making a major life decision.

And British public toilet paper is a whole other level of trauma. You sit there pulling out metres of that transparent tracing paper nonsense, trying to layer it up into something remotely useful, only to realise you’ve used so much of it that you’ve blocked the toilet. Then you’re forced to leave the cubicle like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime, praying nobody knows it was you.

Honestly, there is no dignity left. Just you, a blocked toilet, and a roll of paper so thin it could be used to wrap museum artefacts.

At this point, if someone came over from South Africa and asked me what they should pack for life in the UK, I’d say:

Warm clothes. An umbrella. And a 24-pack of decent toilet paper.