So, I was working as a diesel fitter in a mine in New Guinea back in '86, one of the local machine operators invited me back to his village at the end of my stint.

It was about 3 hours walk into the hills from Gono in the Highlands and was about as close to undisturbed traditional living as it’s possible to get.

To cut a long story short, their clan had been feuding with a neighbouring clan and as part of a victory celebration after a battle they had this big feast.

Honestly, more like roast pork than chicken.