Hello, by Kate Adi. Hello. Today, the shock in French-speaking Africa at the murder in Mali of two French radio journalists.

It's confirmed an elephant really doesn't forget and that it seems is causing problems for the authorities in

Malaysia. A campaign in India to make the sari popular again but can it really

compete with machine washable t-shirts, jeans and the drip-dry business suits,

and it's uncomfortable, expensive and downright dangerous,

so why are people still queuing up to take the midnight bus to Damascus. The latest round of international diplomacy has failed to fix a

date for the long delayed Syria Peace Conference, which it's still hoped will

take place in Geneva. The UN envoy

Lachda Brahimi said divisions within the Syrian opposition had been a

persistent obstacle. Much of the opposition is demanding the departure of President Assad as a

precondition for any peace conference, something the authorities in Damascus

reject. Meanwhile the violence in Syria continues unchecked.

Yesterday a bomb went off at the headquarters of the country's railway authority in the centre

of Damascus, killing at least eight people.

50 others were injured in the explosion.

For months people in the capital were spared the daily bombings and shootings going on elsewhere

in the country, but now as Lee's Dussets been finding out, the conflict has arrived in the heart of the city.

It's the kind of restaurant you'd find in sheik neighborhoods in many capitals, all glass and steel and white faux leather chairs. It was still warm enough to sit outside.

So we did. An old Elton John's song wafted through the evening air over the hubbub of conversation sprinkled with laughter. Then suddenly the

soundtrack was shattered. At first it struck like a roll of thunder, but it was soon

clear there was a crescendo of gunfire along the next street.

I looked around. No one seemed to take much notice.

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