“It would help people understand what you offer a lot better.”
It knocked me out cold.
Even the weary hitchhiker needs a nice night’s sleep.
“But how will I get back to Makele?” asked Aregawi.
“Here the Muslims and Christians mix peacefully, even marrying each other,” Aout, our new guide explained.
No other transport except for some idle trucks.
“So let me give you food,” she said. “You eat njera?”
A moving target is harder to hit.
“What’s plan B?”
“I found your sandals,” Sophie said stopping me in the carpark of her restaurant, Cape Chestnut.
“Where?” called out the passenger on the flower truck slowly rumbling on the on-ramp to the A2 Meru-Nairobi highway.
“Found fresh leopard poo,” Julian announced at breakfast.
“Music is my currency.”
“Is it alright if I sit here in the shade and play some tunes?”
Musafir is a word shared in several languages.
When I first aimed for Kenya it was going to be an in ‘n’ out operation.