Toward the South

Here we are, geographically.

From Gonder to Nanyuki. Over 1000km in southerly direction. This has been our longest stretch in our favourite direction. It fills one with exhilaration and is just the tonic for morale - that tangible sensation that we are nearing the bottom of the continent. Our merry band has been bolstered. James White, Dave Cloete, Lawrence Mallen - all mentalists - have joined us for a gambol up Mount Kenya. McAlpine and I awaited their arrival with relish, deliberately abstaining from merriment on the Friday that they spent in transit in Nairobi. We couldn't wait to make contact with the outside world, and embrace family and friends who really knew us. No such approach for them, they had hardly touched down in East Africa before the Tusker started flowing. James lost his fleece on a grubby dancefloor and now he is very cold. Lawrence, who tripped on a cats eye and landed on his head in Comrades last weekend, arrived wielding a 12 year old single malt. He has made it very clear that we shall share the burden of this most prized possession and that James should rather focus on its safekeeping than his shivering bones.

She leers from the horizon.