It got hot early, and I sought shade to eat breakfast. Everyone was talking about the lions roaring all night but I'd been oblivious.
It seems that even a simple two-hour drive can't be just that for us at the moment, because we got a flat tyre, and most of us stood on the road watching the 20-minute two-man, one-woman operation to swap wheels.
A fast drive took us into Malindi, which had that distinctive holiday air I'd nearly forgotten about - very touristy but relaxed and friendly. I wandered the tourist bazaar; ate rum and raisin ice cream; sat in a bar. While I was guarding the truck, a red and white Ferrari there's definitely money here - roared along the street, the local lads sitting on the verandah near our truck cheering at the reckless speeds. (Originally a major Swahili trading hub, and later a Portuguese stronghold, Malindi attracted Italian settlers in the 19th and early 20th century and is known as Little Italy.)
Then we drove to our coastal camp, where weedy, shallow water rolled up a beach of very fine white sand. I had the hottest shower for a very long time and then spent the afternoon alternating between the bar, the sea and the truck, revelling in not having to do anything or be anywhere else and feeling completely relaxed for the first time in months. I'm so looking forward to a few days of idleness, and of clubs and bars.
The night was breezy but it was hot on the truck and the sound of the waves and the scudding clouds prompted several off us off the truck to sleep on the sand.
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