Sunday 8th February 2026
The train is rammed, the children scream and I am, it seems, surrounded by a cacophany of trumpeting snorkers. I have never met a full on Caucasian snorker, but here it feels like the (generally) male of the species flares its nostrils and hoovers up anything of a liquid or semi liquid (including but not limited to the gelatinous or muccal) nature in the immediate area on a regular basis., This substance is then rattled around the back of the throat before being (one assumes) swallowed. I feel moved to violence.
The shuttle to myriad destinations (and finally Mtwapa) destroys any real hope of ‘arriving’ in the first hour, and makes an absolute belter of a joke of “travelling hopefully” even before that. But we get there. Eventually.
I have bone soup and a cocktail of tamarind and fresh mango juices at Baraka.
All is well.
