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.
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Political party flags on cars and stickers on the walls. Election Day is coming and people are public about their opinions.
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Baobab above our campsite with a V in the tree with another branch perfectly slotted through, just like the tree knows where itās other parts are.
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Roasted cashews with the odd cashew who was subjected to more roasting than the rest.
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A 2M beer with Jules and a swim. The black sails are because they use plastic tarp on the dhow.
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Camp for the night is magical. Warm air penetrates everywhere expect for the fridge in the back of the fully kitted Hilux.
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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.
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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.
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Body and mind is tired. In the tent, little support due to the mattress I didnāt bring, but thereās something powerful about a firm bed. Letās hope that no mosquitoes share the tent with me tonight, itās too hot for blankets.