The misadventures of a single, white female

I never talk about my blog. I love reading comments. But if someone talks about it I find I get rather embarrassed. 

The realisation that someone I know, a friend, read the rubbish I wrote about my visit to the Cheese Farm....or whatever it was.

But it is flattering all the same.  That is how I felt the other day, when conversation over shisha surprisingly turned to my blog. (You sweet, sweet lady!)

I then think: I should write more. I should use spell check spend more time on my posts. I should have more of a focus. Maybe I should write about my experiences of an International jet setter teacher.

But all I really want to tell you, is, that in the past day I have tried two new (to me) restaurants. Eaten crab with a bib on at Seven(...well...eaten my be a bit of an overstatement...I cracked and poked and dug...but did not each much!), I met the most well behaved and beautiful baby, Iseult at Osteria, where we finished our meal with ice-cream...well her mum and I. The best ice-cream in Nairobi. Thankfully it is a long drive from where I live, otherwise I would be there everyday this holiday!

Not very productive, or very exciting or very adventurous is it?

My eyes are not as fresh as they first were. Life in Africa has now become the norm for me. A fantastic norm, don't get me wrong, but I no longer do a double take at the women carrying a heavy load of eucalyptus on the busy road or get uptight at the mutatu driver that feels the need to undertake me. Africa has struck a chord inside, but I forget to appreciate it at times. I feel though, that no matter where I go to next, whenever that will be, I will always be drawn back to Africa, even just to smell it through words in a novel. (You know- that dusty, burnt rubbish smell! Only joking!)

Amazing as Africa is, and I think it is, it is expensive here. The cost of living, like other parts of East Africa, has risen so much that the 'good life' is not so easily attainable. Even many white Kenyans, with their rusty Landies and Bata boots, now head to the Middle East to earn a living so that they can repair their coffee machine (well...that bit I obviously made up...but you know what I mean!)

So-my blog has drifted. I am going to try again to see things a new. To write about life like I'll go tomorrow. To journal my experiences, so that they are on paper, for me to read and remember in the future, so that I have somewhere to travel back to, if I need to.