Trust nobody today – it’s all one big April Fools prank. The news you read this morning didn’t happen. That’s right; Crocodile Dundee is not running for president. Sorry. That chair you’re sitting on isn’t actually a chair. But then why believe us – our prank could be telling you that everything else is a prank. Confused? Good. Welcome to the April Fools edition.

I have never been April Fooled, which is not to say I have never fallen for the gag but that nobody has ever bothered to try and fool me. It’s probably because I’m a terrible practical joker myself. I have never succeeded in fooling anyone. I can’t keep a secret to save my life. If I am entrusted with the details of a surprise party, I will tell precisely the worst person at precisely the worst time about it, ruining everything. At this point everyone shakes their head lowly and stares, and the birthday girl usually starts crying.

As hard as I think, I can’t remember an April Fools’ stunt that actually worked, besides the slightly spoof article in which Naas Botha appeared on the cover of Sports illustrated magazine wearing the red and white of Transvaal announcing his move from the Blue Bulls, which was, at best, a bit lame.

There was the front page story in a Gauteng Newspaper about the South African government buying Mozambique, complete with a map depicting how the new province was to be divided up, which worked a bit. But for me the words April Fools Day bring to mind not memorable tomfoolery but the blindingly awful 1986 horror film of that name involving a girl named Muffy who plays tricks with a whoopee cushion, or I think of the first line in the official April Fools’ song: “Your hair is the colour of tomato soup/April Fool, April Fool!”. Both recollections are weird and quite useless.

This month, we travel to Pemba in northern Mozambique and discover a paradise that would make a brilliant April Fools venue if it wasn’t exactly as good as it looks on the postcards. We hear the good news for entrepreneurs in a recession from Virgin boss Richard Branson, find out how to dress a window and quit fooling ourselves over climate change.

But then maybe that is all rubbish. Maybe, when you click through to the site, you will be sucked into a cyber wormhole and spend the day in an alternate universe, drinking horlicks with the ghost of Jan Van Riebeck. Today, you have to be like Sandra Bullock in The Net – lie low, trust no-one, run away!

Matthew Freemantle - Editor