The Ng'Itu Express, off road.

27 October

A note about protocol on the road, whether you're a pedestrian, a baisikeki, (bicycle) a hajaji (tuk-tuk), a piki-piki (motorcycle) or a car; you always give way to the stronger, bigger, louder or more dangerous. This list of attributes is nearly always attributed in ascending order as listed. When walking down a deserted dusty road and a small motor-cycle approaches, you should stand aside and not expect him to veer one inch from his chosen course.If you don't, he will surely hoot you.

I thought I'd got the hang of prices out here. Everything it seems is about 10 times cheaper but the people are 50 times poorer than in the UK.the quality is always inferior, and sometimes, apparently for no apparent reason. Last week in a reasonably good conference centre, chairs simply broke under the weight of our bottoms, today, tea-bags (what's difficult about a tea-bag?) disintegrated in the tea cup and the toilet seat cracked. You'd be forgiven for thinking that Tanzanians stoically accepted the failings of their own manufacturing and wished that they could afford the higher quality imports. Not so. When I enquired about bicycles, I was told that the second-hand bikes are dearer than the brand new ones. Yes. Second hand bikes dearer than new ones. That's because apparently the second hand ones are much better than the nasty Chinese imports. Imagine what fun it must be to ride on one of those!! Then there's clothes pegs. Cheaper in Wilkinsons than they are here. and here, everyone washes everything by hand, sorts them out into mentionable and unmentionable (women's underwear) and pegs them on the line (unmentionables hidden by kanga). You'd think pegs would be cheap. Not so. They are just poor quality.

So our second day is almost over. We have equipped the kitchen with plastic containers for water, rice, beans, onions, garlic and spices and every utensil we possess. The ants will starve before they find their way into the sugar again. Gilbert the gecko seems happy enough, even though he must be scared stiff of Caroline. Every time he appears from behind a door, or up a wall or under a pan, Caroline screams, Gilbert scarpers and then Caroline reassures me – even though I wasn’t scared – that it’s OK and Gilbert is good ‘cos he eats the mosquitoes. I just don’t think anyone’s told the mosquitoes because they don’t seem particularly scared of Gilbert.

We have a superb bed now and a superb mosquito net. We have invested in another quieter fan and hopefully we’ll be able to get at least seven hours before the call to prayer and the roosters start again. Fingers crossed.