The airplane dips threateningly close to the impenetrable cloud bank below us. We toy with it for a while before taking the plunge. Turbulence and iridescent white sparkles takes over the plane until we break out the bottom and are presented with a magnificent delta, mangroves and the turquoise ocean expanding forever below us. The black sails of the dhows providing some contrast.
Political party flags on cars and stickers on the walls. Election Day is coming and people are public about their opinions.
Baobab above our campsite with a V in the tree with another branch perfectly slotted through, just like the tree knows where it’s other parts are.
Roasted cashews with the odd cashew who was subjected to more roasting than the rest.
A 2M beer with Jules and a swim. The black sails are because they use plastic tarp on the dhow.
Camp for the night is magical. Warm air penetrates everywhere expect for the fridge in the back of the fully kitted Hilux.
90s rap in the house at the backpackers restaurant. Some more 2Ms and a conversation with Julian that hits all the important places. Prawn curry is, well, shrimpy.
The moon is lighting up the ocean. Two lights shine from the distant island of Margerut, I wonder if there are people there looking back at the main land.
Body and mind is tired. In the tent, little support due to the mattress I didn’t bring, but there’s something powerful about a firm bed. Let’s hope that no mosquitoes share the tent with me tonight, it’s too hot for blankets.